Chapter V: The Truth of Things
The laboratory wing of castle oblivion was especially constructed to resemble Ansem the Wise's study from the castle in Hollow Bastion, apparently at Vexen's request. Xemnas could not help but be sickened by the sentimentality. Yet there was something reassuring about it, like slipping back into an old skin. So many memories, and (without a heart) no way to make sense of them.
There was a heavy thud as Xigbar dropped a heavy folder filled with charts and papers on his master's desk. The noise was enough to rouse Xemnas from his contemplations. "Nothing," he said.
Xemnas raised an eyebrow, "nothing?" he leafed through the charts, not entirely sure what he was looking for. "You performed all the tests I asked you to?"
Xigbar shrugged, "yup, except the mammography. So far as I can tell, everything's normal. Our little psychotic comrade is a picture of health, 'cept for the beating you gave her."
Xemnas closed the folder, "I see."
"Not sure what we expected to find, she's not a dusk if that's what you were after."
Xemnas sat down behind his desk, rubbing his temples.
Xigbar wandered around the room, stopping to fiddle with some of the lab equipment on a shelf, prompting a baleful glare from his superior. "I saw what you saw; she looked pretty damn dusky to me."
"If death was reversible, then perhaps that state is as well."
Xigbar snorted, "You didn't do anything to reverse it."
"We didn't do anything to come back from the dead." Xemnas seemed lost in thought. After a while he gave a pensive grunt. "What makes us different from them, Xigbar."
The one eyed nobody seemed a bit surprised by the question, "You want the short list? We have the same bodies we did as humans; our cognitive skills are intact, we remember who we are…"
Xemnas held up a hand to silence him, "You cannot see the forest for the trees. Tell me, why are we different than them."
"We have a stronger will than them, same thing that separates the dusks from the people who didn't produce nobodies at all."
"Exactly. For the longest time I assumed we resurfaced because the keyblade was not made to destroy ones such as us. The truth is far simpler, when we lost our hearts to the darkness our minds and bodies faded into darkness, but returned as nobodies."
"So what does that make us, immortal?"
Xemnas rose from his seat, "It means we are not some cosmic coincidence, we returned for a reason. I see the hand of fate in this. The great work must begin anew. There may be others of our number who we have yet to find."
"What about Rox… er Sora."
"That will be your task, we will need our world back. I am certain the keyblade wielder would be happy to oblige, with a little… convincing." The superior strolled over to the bookshelf and began to browse the titles.
"Is that a mission, boss?"
Xemnas waved a hand dismissively, "take help if you need it, and make sure the others are doing something productive. We have little time for foolishness."
Xigbar scratched his head, "you want me to give orders? Isn't that more Saïx's job."
Xemnas gave a hollow laugh, "indeed, you've moving up in the world. Just be sure to keep the others busy."
Xigbar stood before the desk for a moment searching for the right words. "What do I tell Saïx, boss?"
"Tell him if I need an intermediary, I will summon him. Until then, he too must carry his weight in the field."
"This isn't going to end well…" Xigbar muttered, turning to leave.
"Neither will disobeying my orders."
Without a word, Xigbar turned on his heel and strode out the door.
Xigbar halted at the entry to the common room and worked his face into what he hoped was an authoritative expression. The room was designed to encourage mingling but almost inevitably the nobodies dispersed themselves across the room in their own personal territorial claims, absorbed in their own petty distractions.
He took a deep breath, "listen up, ladies. Got orders for you right from the top." All eyes in the room were immediately locked on him, save for Larxene, who made an obscene gesture in his direction and continued reading. So far so good, he thought to himself. "There's work to be done. Larxene, Luxord, you two are coming with me, we're going after Sora."
Demyx snickered from his spot on a sofa, "what's that they say about doing the same thing twice and expecting different results."
Xigbar laughed in spite of himself, "As if, they've got me this time, what could possibly go wrong." Luxord muttered something about tempting fate but Xigbar pretended not to notice. "Demyx, you're on recon duty, boss thinks there might be more nobodies like us out there we haven't found yet. You get to scour the cosmos for em, lucky you."
The sitar player looked ready to object but sank into a sullen pout.
Saïx, who had remained silent until now, rose from his seat and started toward the exit. Xigbar smirked, "where do you think you're going."
"You all have your tasks, the master and I will need to discuss strategy…"
"No, you won't. The boss was pretty clear about that."
Saïx snorted, "I am not certain I follow your joke. At any rate if you've had your fun I have business to attend to." He began to walk away but Xigbar seized him by the arm.
"You really don't get it do you? The boss wants you on a mission, this is right from the horse's mouth. Take it up with him on your own time. Besides, someone needs to keep Demyx in line."
Saïx let out a low growl. "The master and I will speak on this later."
Xigbar smirked, "I'm sure he's dying to hear it." Without another word, two vortexes of dark energy materialized and the two groups of nobodies went their separate ways.
Pete's oversized ironclad boots gave a series of ominous thuds on the floor of the Imperial throne room. The creature gave a hearty guffaw, "now that just can't be all of you." He paused for a moment, "come out come out wherever you are." He strode up to the throne, where the ancient robed figure of the Emperor sat, impassively staring at the creature that had brought his homeland to its knees. Pete seemed content to ignore him, "none of you are going anywhere. You can hide from me but there ain't nobody what can hide from the heartless." He looked down at the Emperor, pretending to see him for the first time, "Well there you are. Only polite to come when yer called."
If the Emperor felt a hint of fear he did not show it. Instead, the old man's expression changed to one of curiosity. "The puppet speaks and dances, but where…." He trailed off, "where is the puppeteer."
Pete gave a halfhearted chuckle, "well that there is a new one. Most folks is a plead'n for mercy right about now."
"What master do you serve?"
Pete recoiled ever so slightly, as though the ancient, scholarly man had been replaced by a sack of refuse. "Sure do ask a lot of questions for a king without a kingdom."
"You are the victor this day, I will not argue that." The robed man sighed and closed his eyes, his voice adopted a rehearsed quality, as though he were reciting a prayer, "but in time good shall emerge triumphant. I regret I shall not live to see that. I ask only a favor from one civilized man to another, assuage my curiosity. By whose hand has my Empire been laid waste. Yours?" he paused, "or another's."
Pete's discomfort only increased, "well there's Malificent…" the emperor began to nod knowingly, but Pete erupted in an indignant rage, "the mighty Pete don't serve nobody! Ain't nobody nowhere what tells me what to do when I got the heartless at my back. Malificent's gonna help me conquer all the worlds." As he spoke he flailed his armored fists in the air and stomped the ground for emphasis.
"And what then?" The Emperor's question left Pete stunned he lowered a fist as he searched for a good answer.
"Then," a voice spoke, female and laden with diabolical glee and an almost palpable arrogance, "you will have power beyond your wildest imagination. A universe that exists only to do your bidding." A figure swathed in a ragged black robe materialized a few feet from the Emperor. With some imagination, one could call the creature a human woman. Her face was framed by a vile black cowl that ended in an enormous pair of curved demonic horns. The flesh of her exposed face and hands was a nauseating gray-green color, reminiscent of a gangrenous wound. Her eyes were the same, unblinking orange globes of her heartless legions.
The Emperor stared long into Malificent's eyes. "So this is the hand behind the evil that has befallen my homeland. "A deluded conjurer and would be tyrant," the Emperor pulled himself to his feet. "If I am to fall, I shall do so on my feet."
Malificent made a sweeping motion with one hand. There was a burst of emerald fire and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. The Emperor sprawled on the floor, a black scorch mark running diagonally across his body. "This is the end for you, mortal," she sneered, "there is no white knight coming to your rescue. This time the worlds shall taste true power. The power of darkness unrestrained." She made another motion with her hand and the emperor lifted off the ground, fighting for breath as an unseen hand closed around his throat. "Everything I need is locked away in your memory."
"I do not understand," the emperor said between gasps for air.
The witch whispered an incantation and a stream of roiling shadow energy projected itself from Malificent's outstretched hand to the Emperor's head. The old man's anguished screams were enough to make Pete take a step back, his ears flattened against his head in alarm. After a moment or two, it stopped, Malificent grimaced. "Your mind is more… resilient than I had anticipated. I see now why your people so admire you." She repeated the incantation and the spell began again, Malificent's face twisted into a mask of cruel triumph, "but it does not matter, one way or another I will wring out your mind like a sponge. Nothing will keep me from my destiny." She let out a victorious laugh and allowed the Emperor to fall heavily to the ground. She gave a carefree flick of one hand and a swirling cloud of raw darkness enveloped the Emperor of China. He let out a pitiful gurgle, then was gone, replaced by a spindly black neoshadow.
Malificent set upon her work with unsettling single minded focus. Tearing up cushions and searching for hidden compartments on the Imperial Throne. Pete spoke first, uneasily shifting his weight from side to side, "so uh… what exactly was that about?"
The witch let out a low growl, as though irate at being distracted from the task at hand. "Do you fear the darkness, Pete?"
Pete thumped his chest with a gauntleted hand, "course I ain…"
"Of course you are. If you were not, you would be a fool. The darkness masters those who draw more power from it than they can control. The late Emperor was entrusted with something more powerful than he could have ever possibly imagined."
"Well, okay then but if what he's got was so powerful how come he didn't do nothing with it. Ain't no one here what used any big nasty magic so far as I can tell." Pete let out a nervous laugh, "Lady I bet this is all just one big old wild goose cha…"
Malificent let out a triumphant "Ha!" and drew from a compartment hidden in the back of the throne a small leather bound book. "What a shame that the power in these pages will forever elude you. True, the darkness masters those who cannot master it. But this book," she turned to Pete, her expression one of cruel euphoria, "this book is the key to mastering the darkness."