And boom! The hiatus is over. Or at least until I take too long for the next chapter, hmm. Hope that the readers out there enjoy; I've been inspired as of late and I'm really going to gun for more chapters at a better rate. Then again, like two months a chapter would be a better rate, huh? Heh, I can assure you all though, that I'm working hard. ^^
VII - Plans
It is said that even in a heart teeming with light, justice, and good emotions, there will always be a speck of darkness dwelling in its deepest confines. Being purely light, while perceived as something righteous and positive, is unnatural for any living thing. The Reapers of Twilight Town, living in a particular building, knew this as fact. The distinctive magic and abilities used by the Angels made this apparent; something seen as "good" used to destroy and oppress. And kill. And drain the very hope that was all they had left.
The reverse was true as well. A heart stained by evil could never blot out that last bit of light. The potential of light is infinite even with the darkness surrounding it. One person who knew this best was the Archangel, having learned with decades of experience, just how tortuous that light could be. That tiny, infinitesimal remain in the heart can tear one to shreds, light or dark, good or evil. It can be unexpected, and with unprecedented results.
And just like the hearts of man was Hollow Bastion. The old castle, a silent sentinel among the flat landscape, which housed far more secrets than one could ever imagine. Secrets that nearly brought it to life. In its depths, beneath the endless hallways and odd, was a very plain, but very different room. Blindingly white, cylindrical in shape, the stark cleanliness made it unbelievable that it was located in a building so scarred by time. More perplexing were the individuals present in the room, seven of them, all seated in towering thrones. Each of the chairs were white as well, with the only real contrasting color in the room being of those sitting. Five of them were dressed in black cloaks, tightly bound to their bodies by studded belts and padding. The gothic style was uniform for Angels, as were the white, feathered wings on their backs.
Three of the cloaked figures had their faces concealed by hoods. Another, head uncovered, tilted his head towards the throne to his right. It was far taller than his own, but the height was justified, as it was the throne of the Archangel, the very leader of the gathered Angels.
Said lesser Angel pulled himself from his reclined position, and ran a hand through his graying hair. He was disappointed to have left the scene of the 'battle', as he was having such a good time offing any Reapers unfortunate enough to wander into his path. He had hoped to take out more than ever during this Raid, but of course, a meeting was called to interrupt his pleasures.
"So," he called up, "what gives?"
The Archangel looked down, hollow eyes observing the subordinates through a black visor. One distinguishable thing setting the Archangel apart from the others was a suit of armor that covered their body entirely; a number of obviously old metal plates, mail underneath clacking with every slight movement. Both intimidating and curious with extraneous parts jutting up from the helmet. It was an odd choice of wardrobe, though it made the wearer very safe in battle.
"The reason, Braig," The Archangel responded, voice flat and booming, "is that I felt a presence here."
None down below looked very impressed. Surely their leader was already aware of the Reapers' invasion. They had known in advance for weeks.
"…A particular one." The Archangel concluded, accenting surmountable distaste at their reactions.
"Oooh. The experiment reached your expectations, Superior?" Piqued one of the hooded Angels. His elbows were propped on his arm rests, fingers weaved together below his chin. He had an icy tone; sinister, and ecstatically cunning.
"Yes. The plan is finally coming to fruition. There is little time left before my goal has been reached." The Superior then looked across the room, the black glass of the visor settling on another throne. It was far lower than any of the others, and its occupant was different as well, being the only person other than the Archangel not wearing the usual black cloak.
"My apologies, Vanitas. It is 'our' plan, after all, is it not?"
The oddly dressed Angel kept his helmet on, avoiding the eyes of his peers. Vanitas nodded a little, head leaning on one hand.
"And I have the utmost confidence that all will go to your accordance, Superior." Added on the very eager Angel from before.
"Should all the pieces fall into place, yes." The Archangel sighed, raising a hand. "And your part has been played, quite well. I believe what matters at the current is Ienzo's progress."
The second Angel without a hood shifted in place, crossing his arms as the party's attention was brought to him. He brushed a length of silver hair that hung in front of his eye out of the way. It fell back as he began to speak.
"Due to the recent…intrusion. Yes, Superior, I was able to gather data."
"On that other specimen?" Sneered the shrill, hooded Angel. "A waste of time."
"Even, if you would be so kind." Ienzo said through his teeth. "I've been able to deduce a significant change in psyche. Some sort of, if you'd pardon the choice of words, emotional change."
"Why does this matter?" Asked the Archangel. "Do you believe that one of them feeling something that resembles emotion could mean harm?"
"Superior." Ienzo began. "While I am ever-so pleased with Even's success in the replica department, I believe that there are certain limitations. They cannot be trusted to such an extent. Our goal should be taking advantage of a natural being, something or someone already on the inside. We manipulate that and half of the work is done for us ahead of time. Odds of failure are comfortably low."
Even was on the edge of his seat, fingers curling over the arm rests.
"Inconceivable! What I've managed to create is a much more controllable variable."
"It is unstable. Uncontrollable. The previous time this technology was used it-"
"Both of you." Sighed another hooded Angel. "Completely underestimate the power of a heart, you know."
"Ah, but that isn't what we're dealing with, is it? Not a true…" Even looked towards Vanitas, who sat quietly, watching the two quarrel. "Not normal beings, am I correct?"
"You are correct, in that." Said the Archangel, growing tired of the feud. "But, neither of you are completely aware of what you are delving into. You must take into account the level of unpredictability. A heart is not something you can ever take a complete hold of."
"Superior." Even pleaded, struggling to make his point, and ignoring the piece of advice. "What makes this project so special, you see, is how intricately we were able to manufacture certain elements, what strings to pull, you know this! If it were not for your input, this project would be impossible."
The Archangel nodded continuously. "Yes, yes. We discussed this earlier. That is why I am allowing you to put our experiment into the field."
Even was taken back, but delighted, a devious smirk forming on his face. Ienzo, however, was ready to stand in his seat. His eyes, one still covered by hair, were wide in rage and disbelief.
"But, Superior, I have data regarding the work I've completed. If you'll only see what I've been able to accomplish in testing, surely you can reconsider."
His leader looked upon him, and Ienzo was, to an extent, worried he acted to rash.
"You feel as if your own experiment will yield useful results?"
"Yes, Superior." He was nervous now, knowing that this was the point of no return. "P-prior research h-has proven this."
"And, should I allow this to continue, will your plans not interfere with my own?"
Ienzo blinked, and looked to his left, to the third hooded Angel, the tallest and bulkiest of those in uniform. A couple of short nods were exchanged.
"…None whatsoever, Superior."
"Very well then. You have my permission."
The room went quiet. One Angel was thrilled, another outraged at his leader's carelessness. A third just wanted to leave, maybe take a nap. The Archangel did not really care or notice any of these attitudes, and only leaned forward, gold-tinted wings stretching out.
"Even, later we will arrange the conditions for the experiment to be released."
The scientist Angel nodded, and disappeared as a bright column of light took his place. The light died out a moment later, throne empty and unscathed.
"The rest of you are dismissed. Vanitas, remain at the castle until tomorrow. A few tests need to be run regarding the new creation."
The helmed Angel lowered his head, acknowledging with some half-nod, and teleported away from the white room in his own flash, followed by Braig and the two other hooded Angels. Only Ienzo remained, who began to raise his own hood.
"You're certain your plan won't intervene?" The Archangel asked, catching Ienzo by surprise.
"Oh, ah, yes." Ienzo said, clearing his throat. "You'd be surprised, in fact, of the precautionary steps I took. If they were in the same room together, compromising interactions would be at an improbable."
"Interesting." Stated the Superior. There was momentary silence. "I imagine you were hasty and have already begun work?"
Ienzo felt blood go to his cheeks, his bluff having been called.
"Ahem, well, Superior, things have already started rolling, yes, but I assure you this had was not me acting out of line. The seeds that have been planted have not ended up this way by my hand. My test subject, that Reaper, has been a pawn for the last few years and has been completely oblivious to it."
Raimyd heard the squeaky hinges on the front door that signaled its opening, and winced when sunlight suddenly gushed into the lobby. Mornings were not exactly his thing; that gross, orange dawn always made him want to return to bed.
Those that caused this small moment of discomfort for Raimyd were of course acquaintances of his, meaning he would be sucked into conversation with them while his head was still groggy. The newspaper held in front of his face did nothing to trick Leyla, who took the seat across from him. Gabryl followed, seating himself between the two of them at the round table.
"So, you guys enjoy your morning stroll together?" Raimyd asked, the first resentful comment of the day. He set down the paper, half a bagel had been concealed by it, slathered in jelly.
Leyla stared at it, then crossed an arm over her own stomach, showing hunger, perhaps even as a way to ask for some baked goods of her own.
"Well, really, half of it was flying." Gabryl quipped. He had come to realize that the heaping amounts of sarcasm exchanged around his new home required he start being a smart ass as well. But, much to his dismay, the other two Reapers just saw it as him idiotically stating something. Maybe he needed to be a higher-class sardonic.
"Lot more empty this morning, you notice?" Raimyd said, glancing around the room. A handful of Reapers were lounging around, but all were in low spirits. They sat in clusters, in tattered clothing, with solemn expressions. It was the polar opposite of the loud, quarreling crowds that had filled the same room twenty-four hours earlier.
"It's just been a day. Few guys might be coming in late, or sleeping now. I would be." Leyla reasoned, though she was not too sure herself.
"Mm, we'll see."
"Why, are you implying anything?"
Raimyd sighed heavily, leaning his head back, and letting it hang over the back of his chair.
"Not…really. I mean, what's there to be suspicious about? That all of them are dead? If we made it out then plenty of others should be fine."
"I thought we were smarter." Gabryl said, a little quieter than he would have liked. He felt as if he had said something appropriate, and was hoping for a positive reaction, but there was only an uncomfortable silence. Raimyd rolled his eyes, while Leyla leaned forward, looking Gabryl over for a moment before starring at the ceiling.
"But it helps them having giant birds chase down anyone, I guess." He added, forcing a smirk.
"Yeah, Heartless are a problem too." Raimyd nodded, "'specially since they started popping up around town, like that one the other day. Can't have those things wrecking too much havoc around here. Last thing we want is for them to take out too many of us."
"Why?" Gabryl asked. He felt a little dumb asking why it was bad for his fellow Reapers to get clawed to pieces, but it seemed so strange that Raimyd would care in the first place.
"We-ell." Raimyd began, clearing his throat. He apparently took the question well. "Death by Heartless isn't a natural way to go. They themselves are just corrupted hearts, the leftovers of anything we don't harvest in time."
"And Reapers are their favorite food." Chuckled Leyla.
"They got this instinctual hatred for Reapers, which is why the Angels use them as bodyguards. If that Neoshadow back there got to you, their darkness would've turned you into one of them. That's all they do; eat and multiply."
"Eat and…multiply?" Gabryl wondered, blinking. He looked back and forth between them. "So, what, if we're not killing anyone then they do instead?"
"Pretty much it, bud."
"Yep."
The shock set in for Gabryl when he thought back to that week of fasting from killing. All of that pain he felt, for his will and remorse of taking lives- was it all for naught? Those creatures were just taking his place, and doing even more harm.
"Well!" He shouted, making the other two jump. "Well…that isn't right. They're just making things worse, and if they make more Heartless they'll keep doing more and more damage. Why can't we do something about it?"
Raimyd rolled his eyes, and took a bite out of his breakfast.
"They make our jobs easier."
"No they don't." Gabryl argued. "They just make more monsters that'll try to kill us."
Another bite of his food, and Raimyd sighed. As if he had some kind of philosophical, insightful reason to bolster his point. Something that might change Gabryl's mind if he told him, if only his priorities were not preoccupied with eating. However, right when he had swallowed the last bit of his meal, Leyla managed to usurp the conversation from him.
"Could be a fun way to spend a night, you know, hunting for a few of the things." She offered. Gabryl nodded rapidly; it was weird for her to be suggesting some form of recreation, but it was an idea that was in his favor for once.
"Yeah. I don't know, I could get better at fighting maybe?" He added on.
"Sure. C'mon, Rai, give him a break. I did see you slacking back at the castle before."
He groaned under his breath distastefully at the comment, and shifted in his chair.
"Can I go back to bed for a few hours, at least?"
Leyla stood up and walked around the table, lightly slapping him on the side of his head with the back of her hand as she passed. Again, to his distaste.
"We'll leave at dusk, how's that? You can sleep all day."
"I do like the idea of being nocturnal."
"So do I, I wouldn't have to see you all day." She let the corner of her mouth jut up in a smirk a moment before she turned to Gabryl. "Let's let him rest. I'm gonna go tell Ansem that we'll be leaving later."
Gabryl bid her farewell, then Raimyd, and rose to leave to his own room. It occurred to him that he had an injury, and had been awake since before the sun even came up. Sleep sounded pretty good to him.
Fast forward, twelve-ish hours, Gabryl had spent most of the day napping, regaining his energy and training his wings to hold him in the air long enough to balance out his limping. Those new appendages were of such convenience outside of regular transportation- though he had a knack for knocking things over and clipping a few feathers indoors.
"Gabryl." Raimyd called, knocking on his door. Gabryl knew it was almost time to leave, and he was just trying to neaten his room, to relieve it of that musty feeling. But even some heavy sweeping left the place dreary.
"Ready, ready." He called back, closing his closet. He was checking a few old cracks and cleaning out spider webs. Gabryl then appeared from his room, wings folded vertically, so as to not bump them on anything more than he needed to, and pulled the door shut along with him. 'So is it just us or- Ow!"
Raimyd blinked. "Jeez, what is it, your leg?"
Gabryl grunted, opened his door a tiny bit, and quickly yanked the tip of his right wing out. He slammed it closed, glaring at it.
"It's uh…yeah, my leg. It's nothing. What's with your, um, injury-thing?"
"Covered it up, no big deal. Starting to get the feeling back in it." He lifted his shoulder some and rotated it, wincing. "
Raimyd turned, and lead the pair to the lobby. Through the windows, Gabryl could tell it was turning out to be a beautiful evening, with the sunset Twilight Town was known for beginning to shape up. Long shadows were cast outside, and the clock tower in the distance was a black rectangular blob.
"There you are." Leyla said, arms crossed, legs pressed together and knees locked Surprisingly, she had not been standing like this to look more intimidating but because of the ensuing cold. Autumn was close, or maybe it had already started.
When Gabryl saw her shoulder jitter a little he realized that he actually had never known when the seasons changed, exactly. It may have just been a cold day in the Spring.
"Huh, didn't pack a change of clothes with you, I see." Leyla commented, motioning towards Gabryl's shredded trousers. He just wobbled on his chilled legs and rubbed his hands together, wishing that he did.
"No problem, I got some extra clothes for you. I like to keep a few high-quality articles of clothing lying around." Raimyd offered. Leyla started walking down the sidewalk, brushing her hair over her ears for warmth.
"Sure, if you like loads of khaki and shitty camouflaged jackets."
"Hey! I said it was a gift." He shot back. It really was the umpteenth time he had told her.
And while it was a visually off-putting jacket, Gabryl hoped he would get to wear something like it soon. Perhaps a chance at some Heartless target practice would heat him up, too. The stroll to the park was silent, but full of anticipation that managed to warm Gabryl's bare legs. Cheeks flushed, he asked them,
"So, do you guys have a place in mind? Those things even have a favorite place?"
"Well, wherever there's people." Raimyd explained. "But they like to spawn in dark places. That's why we're going out to the forest on the edge of town."
"And cut them off before they go out…?"
"Gabryl, relax." Leyla said, stopping. They were standing on the curb before a street, one of Twilight Town's trams making its evening run. She turned to him, with a disapproving expression. "You're starting to obsess."
"So what?" He asked, bewildered at her lax attitude. "These things are going to do probably twice the killing we would. That's too much, that's stupid. Why should we let that happen?"
The traffic light on the opposite side of the street changed color, and they walked across; the tops of trees were visible around the next corner.
"Because it's a natural order." Raimyd explained, strolling along. "It's the way things have always been, and you never saw any problem when you were alive, right?"
"I…guess not, but-"
"Exactly, you didn't." Leyla said. "Because there is a balance that exists. The Heartless and what they do are what assure things don't get chaotic. You know that Chapel Hearts religion?"
They had reached the next block when the asked, and Gabryl was a little busy peering into the dark mass of trees close by.
"Um, yes, I guess I do."
"They say that we, the living, and everything you can see here is made up of light. People, mostly their hearts, contribute to the light in the world. But you can't have light without darkness," she pointed to the long silhouettes at their feet, "there's always going to be a shadow cast because of that light. That's the Heartless. They feed off of us, yet we need their existence to survive."
The group came to the forested area, where the town's noises were less prevalent. Gabryl distanced himself from his friends, facing a thick tree trunk. He kicked it once, then twice, then sighed.
"So there has got to be thousands, or millions of Heartless to match all of the people in the world? Even the dead ones like us…I just can't imagine-"
"Mm, no." Leyla interrupted. "I said that the Chapel believes that 'what we can see in the real word' is light. We're invisible to them. Reapers are different then people. Our hearts, they're not…they're not all there. We lack the light that hearts give us, leaving darkness in place of it. We're almost like Heartless; their darkness overpowers the light they steal from normal humans."
Gabryl licked his drying lips, and turned a little, away from the force of an oncoming breeze.
"You're saying we're like Heartless? Like those things that mindlessly attack people?"
"No." She corrected. "Almost like them. We're still our own kind of being. We have our brains, the ability to make lives for ourselves, it's just that no one will ever really know. We're nobodies."
And it was hearing this from someone else that made Gabryl feel, even in his new life with friends and a home, like he was the loneliest person in the world. It was not as if he ever thought that way, about never being known and the like, but it was hearing someone confirm it that almost freaked him out. Like if someone had told you that your nightmares were real.
"Way to make the guy feel down, Ley." Raimyd said, frowning at her. "Gabe, let's go, you and me, take out a few of these things. It'll be fun, not like hanging out with this girl."
Leyla scowled, but she let Raimyd lead Gabryl away, into the forest, without stopping them. Perhaps she had laid it on a bit too thick. It had not been her intention at all to scar him with the reality of their position, especially since they had gotten along so well just earlier that day. Perhaps she would have to remember how fragile his naïve Reaper mind was. He was like a baby to her. A really whiny one, with questionable fashion sense.
"Hey, uh, will Leyla be okay on her own?" Gabryl asked, snapping out of his depression. It just occurred to him that she was alone in this apparent birthing place of Heartless.
"Oh, sure. She's always been a good fighter, especially on her own. Probably wouldn't even call for help if she had to face two of those big bird things that attacked you, heh. She can be pretty cocky, you know."
Gabryl cracked a smile, and brought a hand up to hide it, pretending to wipe his nose.
"Who, her?"
"Hell yes, all the time, especially back in the day. Always been best when she was out on her own, though. Still, I can't even believe we've been out this long without her bragging."
They both broke into smiles this time, illuminated by the small blaze in Raimyd's hand. He had placed the red, spiked Keychain on his palm and let it ignite into a contained fireball to give them some light and warmth. It added a cozy feel, but before either could enjoy it Raimyd closed his fingers into a fist, extinguishing the light. He was suddenly very quiet, in such a foreboding way that Gabryl did not need to be told to not make a sound, and brought his scythe into his right hand with a quick swishing noise. Gabryl had never noticed the strange shape of his partner's blade; it was unlike his own in that it was a wide crescent shape, extending from each side of the shaft at equal lengths. He could not see many other irregularities in it, though the shade from the canopy combined with the late time of day made it impossible to see the dark metal. All Gabryl realized he could do was bring forth his own scythe and prepare for the worst.
Some leaves, possibly above them, shook in what definitely did not feel like a gust of wind. It was too abrupt. Raimyd turned, weapon held out at his side, his back hunched over as if he was ready to lunge at whatever may come at him. Gabryl began to turn as well, but more rustling, from the ground this time, distracted him and drew his eyes back around to their front. His eyes were immediately drawn to the ground; leaves moved, yes, but large indents accompanied the displacement, like footprints.
"Watch it," Raimyd hissed, "it's invisi- buwh!" Before he could get more than a couple words out, he was hit squarely in the chest and sent flying into a clump of bushes.
Gabryl slashed out wildly with his weapon, hoping to catch whatever-that-was at least a little. But the blade made contact with nothing but air, and Gabryl felt his stomach lurch, fearful for not knowing where his enemy was.
"Huh? Where…?" He turned around, then the other direction, and then back to the first, mumbling to himself. "I…Rai! Where is it?"
"The eyes glow!" He shouted form the darkness. "Look for them!"
"Eyes…okay, right, where are the eyes- Gah!"
There the eyes were, not too far from where he stood in a sweaty shock. The two eyes, yellow and rolling in unseen sockets, darted bizarrely in his direction, prompting Gabryl to take a step back. The eyes glowed brighter, almost doubling in size before they discharged all at once; the glows projecting themselves at Gabryl as two beams.
"Lasers what?" He yelped, jumping to his left. He landed on the ground just as the blasts fizzled into the leaves where he once stood, leaving a plume of smoke. Clambering back to his feet, Gabryl slashed, again, and fruitlessly, into nothing. He gritted his teeth and kept turning to find the assailant, but there was no more sound. Had the Heartless left? He had to assume it was a Heartless. Crap, could it possibly not be one? What else could it be? Gabryl became more conscious of his sweating.
And then, finally, what sounded like footsteps. Gabryl pulled his scythe-wielding arm back, prepared to strike out at his side, when a red light came out of nowhere in place of the two familiar orbs he was expecting.
"Watch it!" Raimyd shouted, conjuring a ball of flame in his hand. He whipped the fire across the forest clearing, and hit a tree trunk. Gabryl could hear him growl through his teeth, and he threw a second fireball. It must have missed whatever he was aiming for, because Raimyd cursed under his heavy breath. "My aim, I hate it!" And for the third attempt, a larger, even brighter flame ignited in his tightened fist, which he threw with gusto. The larger area must have done something, because this time the projectile stopped before hitting anything, or at least, anything they could see.
"Finally." He sighed, exasperated.
Whatever he had hit was moving, fast, running in circles and shrieking in this alien voice. Raimyd took the Keychain and thrust it into Gabryl's hand, patting him on the shoulder before he began to run at the Heartless.
"Give me back up if it does anything…!" Raimyd called, and with that he jumped up, straddling the monster's neck. The damage had distracted the Heartless to turn visible, making this an easier task. The thing they fought looked like a lizard of some kind; Gabryl assumed a chameleon due to the obvious. Its thick, curled tail thrashed wildly behind it, which must have been what knocked Raimyd out of sight before, and it hissed and roared and made all sorts of sounds a reptile should not be making.
The fire began to die down with Raimyd's presence smothering it. A sizzling and very perturbed chameleon-Heartless felt like changing its target to the Reaper it could get its creepy hands on. Gabryl saw its eyes begin to glow again, so he was ready to dodge the incoming attack. Or, at least the one he was expecting.
What Gabryl did not expect was the Heartless opening its maw and assaulting him with an impossibly long tongue. The sticky, elastic organ launched itself from the Heartless' mouth in less than a second, and all Gabryl could do was struggle when it wrapped around his arms. He felt the tongue getting reeled in by its owner, immediately increasing the worry that he was to be eaten. Raimyd could do next to nothing, as he was currently attempting to put the chameleon in a headlock to prevent it from doing even more harm. All that was left, Gabryl figured, without access to handheld weapons, was the magical piece in his hand.
Oh well. It was set yourself on fire just a little or get digested. Great. At least one of those involved him living a little more.
He closed his eyes, trying to tap into the power like he had down only days before. He felt a heat rising up in his arm, and then his shoulder- Was he on fire? Gabryl did not feel like looking very much, what with it being his arm on fire, but he had to make sure he was taking that step towards not being eaten.
His eyes opened. There was fire, but not a lot. He worried; he was starting to get yanked ff of his feet by the pull of the tongue.
"No, no, no, no. Not…eating me! Get off!" He twisted around, but was stuck. It was funny, he mused in the most inappropriate time, how he had always been told the tongue was one of the strongest muscles in the body.
But, right, bad time to be thinking about trivialities. What he needed was a way out of this. He needed to move his arms, just grab on to something and tug back, but how could he do that? He was trapped, this was it. The terrors of dying and losing what he had gained began to sink in, just like they had back at the castle.
As Gabryl worried more and more, he felt something inside of him tugging- not as his body, but at something in his chest. He gasped, feeling like something was digging through him, like a worm through an apple. It made him feel nauseas, and his vision started to blur. What Gabryl was able to see, however, was something coming close to the length of tongue still between him and the Heartless. Something large and black, with digits, like a hand. It descended upon the stretch of pink before him, grabbing it tightly within its grasp. He heard the chameleon squeal as it happened, meaning he was not just getting delirious.
However, before Gabryl could find out what it was, or where it came from, another shadow came down from above. This one was smaller and faster, and carried with it a long, sharp object. Before the figure hit the ground, the Heartless' tongue had been sliced in half. It squealed louder than it had before, more in pain than distress. It jumped up and down vigorously before flopping on its side to the ground.
"Yes!" Raimyd yelled, sounding very much elated. "Die, thing!"
And after a few very generous blows to the head, the Heartless was evaporating into a black mist.
Gabryl was sitting on the ground, now very cold even after being on fire. The figure that had come down before, which he now recognized without his head spinning, walked over and offered her hand.
"You alright?" Leyla asked.
Gabryl took her hand and grunted as he stood up.
"Leg bothering you?" She was being weirdly kind.
"Not really, I guess." He has to admit it he was experiencing the effects of that accelerated Reaper healing. "Just, almost being someone's dinner rattles you up I guess."
She seemed entertained by the statement, perhaps getting used to Gabryl's brand of hopeless-trying-to-be-funny humor. Therefore she did not think it would hurt to smile a little, and she did.
"You'll be fine. Speaking of which, I haven't had dinner yet, you?"
Gabryl had not eaten…anything. For some time.
"I guess I could eat."
"Man, me too!" Raimyd announced, leaning on his scythe where the Heartless had been slaughtered. His clothes were terribly burnt and torn, but he looked like he did not notice or care. Both Gabryl and Leyla found this odd.
"The damn coat still looks good though, damn." She whispered to herself.
"Is the coat bad for some reason?" Gabryl inquired, with justified curiosity.
"That thing is," She rolled her eyes, "well, I'll tell you later. Long story."
"Oh, alright." People keeping promises to him made him feel delightfully like he was in the loop.
The sun had set by this point, leaving the forest almost pitch dark and, logically, full of more Heartless. For this reason they hurried out of there, to the safety of the outskirts of an urban city at night. They walked leisurely to a restaurant or café or whatever was on the way and cheap.
"Thanks for helping me out back there, Leyla." Gabryl said, breathing in the cold nightly air.
"Well I felt more than obliged." She responded, scoffing jokingly.
"But, hey, can you show me how to do that sometime?"
"Do what?"
"The thing you did, to get rid of the…thing."
She looked at him, raising an eyebrow and then lowering it, and making a show of doing so.
"I jumped."
"Yeah, and the other thing."
"Using my scythe to cut the tongue?"
"And?"
"…Landing?"
Gabryl felt very stupid all of a sudden and also felt like the feeling was warranted.
"If you wanted to get better and jumping around trees or something, it's really more about flying. I don't think there's a lot I could tell you, uh." She scratched her head, completely unaware of what he could have been asking about.
"Oh, um, yes, thank you." He was suddenly bluffing. "I will be sure to do that."
"Okay, good for you."
The awkward levels rising, they mutually decided to cut off the conversation. Gabryl felt fine, though. If he was not pretty sure that she was his friend then there would be grounds to worry, but he was in a fine position to mess things up.
"Nice." Raimyd said to the two of them looking down the street. "That place I like over here is still open. You would love it, Leyla, it has these great…"
The ensuing conversation faded in Gabryl's ears. While he did feel strange about the failed interchange he just went through, it did leave the question as to what that hand thing was, and where it came from.
