CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Riku was in the computer lab when Roxas entered, in the same position he'd been in the last time he'd seen him here, perched on the back of the smaller chair, swinging slowly back and forth. His brow was creased, as he peered down at Sora's hands moving over the main keyboard, the brunet's expression identical to his lover's. Both glanced up as Roxas' clanging steps sharpened into clicks as he stepped over onto the tiles, Sora giving a tired smile. "Hey, Roxas, thanks for coming."
The blond waved off his gratitude with some confusion. "That's fine. Not too sure what you think I can do – I've barely learned anything about the computer stuff."
"Too busy being hospitalised," Riku nodded, with a crooked half-smile. Sora lifted his head, glared a little, but Roxas smiled in weary agreement.
"Axel said you're not sleeping," Sora said, gaze softening as it transferred to the blond.
"That makes two of you," the silver-haired teen said with an edge of sharpness. "I haven't seen you in bed for nearly forty-eight hours."
"I took a nap earlier," the boy protested. "Besides, this isn't about me, I was talking to Roxas." He turned his blue eyes expectantly to the blond, who blinked, then shrugged.
"Uh, yeah. I haven't been sleeping too great. So – uh, thanks for the opportunity to occupy my mind."
Sora sighed, shaking his head. "Trust me, I need the help."
"Just not from me, huh?" Riku asked, eyes narrowing, stilling his movements for a moment to fix the brunet with a hard look. "You're serious about this. You're actually going to make me leave now that Roxas is here?"
"You have to," Sora insisted, the conversation obviously having existed prior to Roxas' presence in the room. "I'm sorry, you know I am, but this is how DiZ wants it."
"All you and Leon do is suck up to that old coot," the older boy muttered, earning a scowl and a middle finger.
"He's an old coot who knows what he's doing. Me and Leon are basically the only ones that understand that, and you should know better by now!"
Riku sighed, moving his hand in a 'yap-yap-yap' action. "Yes, Sora. Fine. Let's all just bow down to DiZ." He jumped from the chair, grabbed the back of Sora's and leaned down to kiss the boy, Roxas' eyes going elsewhere, taking time to admire the glow of the screen bouncing against the ceiling.
Something flickered blue at the edge of the room, bringing his gaze sharply around. Nothing there. He sighed, as Riku pulled back, eyes stuck on Sora's, a serious expression in place. "Take care of yourself. I don't want anything happening to you."
Sora laughed softly, shaking his head. "We'll be fine, Riku. I keep telling you, Vincent's totally all over that guy!"
Roxas tuned back in to the conversation. "You mean the one that attacked me and Axel? You're still worried about that?" The two boys nodded, Sora rolling his eyes, Riku grim. Roxas smiled a little. "I don't think you need to worry, really. Me and Axel were in town for a couple of hours earlier, and nothing happened. You'd think if he was around, he'd have chosen then to do something – we couldn't have done much to protect ourselves."
Riku's face eased slightly, he nodded. "I guess so. Thanks. But still." He went firm again. "Do you have your keyblades?"
Roxas raised an eyebrow. "No? I didn't think I'd need them."
"You should bring them on every shift," said Riku sharply. "If there's a raid, this is where they're coming, this is where the core is."
"There isn't going to be a raid," Sora said, tugging on his shirt with exasperation. "Vincent would have known if they were preparing to."
Riku's mouth thinned. "Vincent's not infallible, So."
"Maybe not, but you're paranoid," the brunet said softly. He tugged the teen down for a final kiss, before pushing him away. "Get out of here, so me and Roxas can talk. We're switching shifts at two, so you'll see me then." He slapped Riku's ass as the boy turned. "Don't wait up for me!"
"Do you have your keyblades?"
"Yes, dad, I have my keyblades, thanks for ruining the surprise." Sora threw up his hands. "Get out, before you blurt something else." He twisted in his chair, shoving the silver-haired male with a foot.
"Yeah, yeah, I love you, too," Riku replied sarcastically. He flipped Roxas a short wave. "See you guys later. Take care of each other." He left, Roxas frowning after him.
"Wow. Riku's pretty intense about the safety thing."
Sora sighed, hooking his legs over the arm of the chair, forearms winding beneath them. "Yeah, he worries easily. He holds himself responsible for my protection, stupid person."
Roxas moved over to the smaller chair, lowering down with raised eyebrows. "So, what was that about – keyblades?"
Sora pouted. "It was meant to be a surprise," he huffed, swinging his feet back down to the ground. He leaned down and, with a low clink of metal on metal, pulled two long objects up from the ground, brandishing them for the blond to clearly see. Roxas was awed. "I don't believe it. You actually – made some?" He blinked blankly. "How?"
Sora shrugged. "It wasn't so tough. Your dad's design was pretty easy to follow. He did a great job with his own." Roxas leaned forward, inspecting without touching.
"They look different."
Sora tipped his head to one side, propped one between his legs, turned the other in his grasp, holding the simple handle out. "Wanna see?" Roxas hesitated, reached out and wrapped his hand around it, testing the weight. "It's more even," the brunet said. "Your dad's ones were just for show and fun, these ones are made for combat. I had a good time making them," he enthused. "It taught me some different methods, and I think they could do a lot of damage."
Roxas held it up, this one far plainer than the ones his dad had made, more purposeful. "Yeah… my dad's ones… they were always better as bludgeons…" He felt a slight shiver, lowered it, handed it carefully back to the brunet. "You did a good job," he said uneasily. Blue flashed in the corner of his eye, making his head whip around, startling Sora.
"Whoa, what?" He twisted to look around the room. "Did you see something?"
Roxas blinked sharply, chin jerking slightly. "No, it's fine. I'm just… tired."
Watching him with a hint of wariness, Sora nodded. "Okay."
"So how come you haven't been to bed?" Roxas asked, trying to forget the vision, hands clasping together to try and warm the chill against his palms where he'd touched the keyblade. The brunet's expression soured. He lowered the keyblades carefully back down, readjusting his position in the big chair with a sigh. "You remember how Twilight Town was having problems?"
"Has something gone wrong?" Roxas demanded hastily. "My friends, are they okay?"
Sora shook his head, a frustrated motion to clear it. "Everyone's fine, or at least they look it, but weird stuff keeps happening. I don't get it." He turned his eyes pleadingly to the blond. "I thought that, since you were in there so recently, you'd be able to help me figure out what's going on."
Roxas' eyes widened. "What could I help with? I told you, Sora, I don't know any more about using the computer than I did when I got here. I'm useless."
The brunet brightened. "Ah, but not completely," he said, wagging a finger. He turned to the screen, started typing swiftly. "I've spent the last couple of days recording visual information from the simulation, and some audio of conversations that Tron brought up that didn't sound right…"
"Tron?"
Sora's head came around, expression perplexed. "Yeah, you know…" His eyes widened, rolled back. "You don't know. Jesus, what're they teaching you? I mean, are they teaching you?" He shook his head quickly, continued typing. "Never mind. Okay, crash course time: Tron's the backup system, he records and processes all the data that the core produces. The core is the main system, and lately, it's been acting funny. I can't access it like I could, which, believe me," he said fervently, twisting his head without taking his eyes off the screen, "is a majorly bad thing. If we lose control of the core, there goes a chunk of our resources, right there. We really depend on it, and not just because of Twilight Town."
"Okay…" Roxas said slowly.
"So I've been using Tron more and more lately, coz the core hasn't been picking up even half the anomalies he's noticed. He found a bunch of data that didn't fit the 'normal' rating that the core is giving itself right now, but no matter what way I look at it, I can't figure out why it's so abnormal." He stopped, scowled, turned the chair sharply and dropped his elbows onto his knees, hands becoming animated as he spoke. "I mean, I can see why it's weird – there's this – this change in a lot of people lately, and the parents aren't acting right. There's been this shift in their personalities, but it's nothing extreme, nothing I can necessarily put my finger on, you know?"
"A change in people? So this is affecting the people inside the system?" Roxas asked, tensing. Sora sighed, ran a hand through his hair.
"Yes? No? Maybe and a bit of both? A lot of it's due to the way the adults are acting. I mean, you know they're part of the sim, right?" Roxas nodded carefully. "Well – " He let out a noise of frustration. "Look, just – have a look at the stuff I'm pulling up, okay? Maybe this was already happening, and I didn't notice. I need to know when things started going wrong. You're the closest thing I've got to an inside expert right now, because I'm now allowed to trust any of the other techies." He grew distressed, straightened in his seat. "That sucks. I trust all of them. But DiZ thinks, and I agree which is worse, that this has to have been caused by an outside source. That means a techie. Someone's fucking with Twilight Town, Roxas," he said unhappily, "and we don't even know why."
Blue. "Fuck," the blond hissed, trying to not automatically jerk around again, fingers digging into palms. Damn it, why wouldn't this leave him alone? He was so goddamn sick and tired of his head playing tricks! Sora, thinking he was exclaiming over the troubles with Twilight Town, nodded glumly. "So will you help me?"
Roxas snapped his gaze up to Sora's, grimaced, nodded. "Of course I will. I don't want anything bad happening to Twilight Town. My friends are still in there – and, well, a lot of other people, too. They need to be taken care of, right?"
Sora agreed, with a hint of relief, "Yeah, they do. Thanks. I seriously appreciate it." Roxas waved it off, eyes darting to the sides briefly, seeing nothing. "What am I looking at?"
A couple of hours passed, the two boys trawling through the information Sora had gathered – or rather, the computer, Tron. Weird name. Roxas had a set of earphones on, listening to snatches of conversation. To begin with, the sensation had been kind of creepy – what kind of peeping Tom had he become? And had this happened to him while he was in there? Had his entire life been eavesdropped on? With Axel around, it was entirely possible.
The feeling gradually faded, replaced with concentration. This wasn't about prying, it was about – about research. This was work. And it felt good. He got this upsurge of satisfaction, to be sitting here, knowing what he was doing after two hours of discovering and learning. There was an element of self-respect instilling itself in him, a sort of pride at being able to handle himself around the complicated electronics, and not just that, but helping. He had a notebook like the one Naminé had been using, scribbling down anything that sounded off in his opinion. At the same time, he watched silent interactions on the smaller screen in front of him, observing the body language and reactions of the Twilight children with their pseudo-parents, searching for hints of the unusual behaviour that had disturbed Sora. For a long time, he was puzzled – there was nothing, to his mind, that seemed terribly strange. Nothing that he'd imagine would spark the tense fear and paranoia in both Sora and DiZ like it had. But eventually, something started tugging at his memories – as he watched, as he listened, a sense of unusualness laced its way through it all. Perhaps this was why it was so difficult to discern the cause of it – it was subtle. It was crazily subtle. For anyone to have noticed at all baffled him, but then, he supposed that was what the computers were for.
At last, it hit him, why things were seeming so odd. "They're all… the same," he said aloud, puzzled, voice muffled to his own ears, which were still hearing the voices from within the system. Sora barely glanced over. Roxas tapped hesitantly at the controls before him, the ones the brunet had shown him to use, running back through the various scenes and conversations for several long minutes. He nodded, reached up to yank his headphones down, twisting to frown at the boy. "Sora. They're all the same. All the adults belonging to the system."
Sora looked over, dark under the eyes, and nodded tiredly. "You got it. It's small, but it's like… They're all programmed to be like their original selves, right? At least a little bit. DiZ had information on everyone in the city, just regular stuff, and with the war a lot of people went through psychological evaluations for if Hollow Bastion decided to become a factor in it all other than just neutral, so he had a decent personality base to work from. But now… they've all evened out, haven't they?"
Roxas nodded, understanding. People were different. Some were happy, some were calm, some had a tendency to fly off the handle – he knew that, because he'd experienced it. Twilight Town hadn't been filled with robots, it had felt like they were real people. But now, the highs had lowered, the dimmer personalities had lifted, and all followed a straight, even line. They were reacting similarly to different situations, all of them, spouting the same litanies, adopting the same tone, same mannerisms. There was a part of Roxas that recognised this single entity they had become, but he couldn't figure out from where. "It's like the core's losing its ability to differentiate between them," Sora said, frustrated. "But that shouldn't be happening."
Roxas hesitated, a crawling dread occurring slowly. "What if – what if it was me? I attacked the system. I cracked the casing near the core, right? It was fine before then."
Sora shook his head. "No, it was thoroughly tested at the time for errors and anomalies, and nothing's changed between then and now that wasn't already happening." He slumped glumly, massaging his forehead with his fingertips. "And the thing is, you now know pretty much what I know. That's stupid. I have so many years of experience, but I can't figure out more than it took you two hours to."
"What about the computer? The backup? Can't you figure out stuff with that?"
Sora lifted his eyes briefly. "Who, Tron? No, he's not built for doing much more than detecting the stuff. His functions are too different from the core. It's the core that has the most intelligence, the most power over it all. And she's all but blocking herself off from us!"
Roxas lifted a brow. "She? And while we're at it, he? You're talking about them like they're people."
Sora grinned a little sheepishly. "Yeah, well, spend enough time in their company, and you start thinking of them that way. They have names, see? Tron's the name of the backup. The core is called Jenova, although we tend to refer to her as an it."
Blue flicker, blue flame. Roxas' head moved slowly, as the small radio on Sora's hip, the same sort they had been carrying on patrol, went off with a buzz, distracting the brunet's attention.
She was standing there, in the corner of the room, flickering. Her hands were hidden by wide sleeves, her feet by her long skirt, her face by the veil. No longer white – blue now.
Roxas.
Not even a voice anymore. She was just – inside his head. He felt a chill, eyes darting to Sora. "Whereabouts?" the brunet was saying, with a frown.
She was here. In reality. Out of his head. In a heartbeat, the dreams were remembered, the images flooding through his mind, muscles locking and jerking, breath hitching as his eyes narrowed. What the fuck was going on? She just – stood there. Watching him. She had followed him, because he had – he'd escaped. She had tried to take him in the dream, and now – now here she was. She had clawed her way from his skull.
Sora's eyes flashed over to the blond with a small amount of alarm. "Sure. No problem. I'll be there in a couple minutes." He lowered the radio, staring for a moment at the beaded sweat appearing on Roxas' brow, the quick breaths, the wide eyes. "You heard that?"
Roxas blinked, tore his eyes anxiously to the brunet. "What? What did I hear?"
Sora stood, bent and hauled up the keyblades, measuring their heft, fingers tightening. For a blinding, panicked moment, Roxas thought he'd seen her. He froze, preparing to launch from his chair – to run, to defend? – when the handle of the plainer weapon was shoved into his chest. He blinked down at it in bewilderment, then up at the brunet's blue eyes. "What are you – what?"
"There's been some kind of disturbance," Sora said quietly. "Vaan's found one of the gate locks broken. We're heading over that way, along with some of the Committee members to see what we can find." He hesitated. "I don't like leaving you alone, but this is pretty far from there. You're safer here than if you come along. I'll send someone back to take care of you, but I'd prefer to be fighting if it's… him again…"
Roxas' blood froze. His eyes flicked to the woman in the corner, still, watchful, nothing more coming into his mind than that initial speaking of his name. He swallowed hard, throat bobbing. "You're leaving me here?" he asked, breathlessly. Sora nudged him with the handle of the keyblade.
"Take this. Just in case." He glanced around the room. "Take care of Twilight Town, Roxas."
The blond shuddered, stomach churning hideously, shaking fingers reaching up to take the blade. Too many, too much, all at once, oh fuck. "Axel – where's Axel?" he asked with a sudden, desperate thought. "Is he going, too? Please – " He caught Sora's sleeve. "Don't let him fight. He'll want to, but he's already been hurt. Please."
"If I see him, I'll send him this way," Sora said softly. He gently unplucked the boy's fingers from his shirt. "Good luck, Rox. Be careful."
Roxas drew in a trembling breath, nodded. "You, too." He watched the brunet leave the room, heard his feet clanging on the metal walkway, then nothing as he passed beyond. Roxas was left in a thick fog of silence. He couldn't gasp enough air, head swimming, eyes on the figure in the corner. "What are you doing here?" he asked, voice harsh with fear. "You're not real."
She made no sign of having heard him, remained in place like some kind of stationary image. "Fuck," he hissed. He rose slowly, inched toward her, heart pounding, the room suddenly stifling. "Mom," he said loudly, forcefully, "you need to leave. Whatever you want, you can't get from me. I belong here, with Axel. Please go."
Roxas. Mother is sick.
He jerked, flinching away from the words behind his eyes, hands yanking up towards his face. "I'm going crazy. I'm fucking nuts. Oh, man, why am I all alone?" he moaned.
Roxas, the bad boy is coming.
He choked slightly, drew his hands away, keyblade swiping the air, shouted, "Shut up! Shut up about the bad boy! You had your chance to tell me who he was, and you didn't, mom, you didn't tell me, I don't know how to help you!"
Roxas must fight. He must break bones for mother.
"Why won't – why won't you move?" he demanded, high-voiced. "What the hell are you?" He reached out with the keyblade, jabbed at her ethereal form. A hand came whipping up, wrapping around the shaft, and a second later a bolt hit Roxas out of the blue, cracked through his body, made his body dance up onto its toes as his head wrenched silently back, back arching insanely. He dropped to the ground, the keyblade clattering down a moment later, her hand returning to its sedate position, gently pressed against her skirt. Roxas' fingers twitched, throat raw as he sucked each rasping breath, a rattle of saliva sounding with each inhalation. His mind was briefly empty, stunned into submission, and into that void she whispered, Follow mother. When she is gone – follow her to where she showed you. Break the bones, and follow.
A low, whimpering groan came from between the blond's lips. A hand slapped the ground, clawing briefly in a small, clumsy arc. He touched something cold, something hard, something like the handle of a keyblade, but a spike of electricity stung his fingers with a high pop, made him snatch them back with a hiss. He curled into a ball, rolling onto his side, eyes wide and anxious. The keyblade lay beside him, harmless-looking. The strong urge to begin weeping built within his skull, trickling down his throat to spread through his chest, continuing down to twist his gut. His panting became shaky, mouth curling down, eyes watering up. But this wouldn't do.
Teeth gnashing together, he slammed a fist into the floor, letting out a low, enraged noise, directed at himself, at his mother, at this whole fucked-up predicament. What the hell was going on? He pushed up with one elbow, turning over onto his hip, reaching once again for the metal. It snapped at his flesh, a numbing, dulling, cutting pain. He grabbed it regardless, suffered one more shock to his palm, pushed from the ground, propping his legs up, dragging his upper body up by his thigh, nails twisting into the thick denim. Sweat streaked his features, dampening the sides of his shirt, making the material cling to his back, prickly-hot under his sweater. He coughed, sucked in harshly, glanced into the corner she had haunted and found himself alone – properly, this time. No signs of life, no signs of… shadow.
This… was bad.
She had manifested. He was seeing things, he was – was he feeling things? He still… buzzed. His flesh and sinew hummed slightly from the – the stun. He swallowed, mouth dry, choked a little on nothing, rubbed his sleeve fiercely over his forehead and down his cheeks. He felt sick, dizzy and weak, wobbling around, feet unable to quite keep still, shuffling a couple inches this way, a couple that, before he caught himself, pressing the heel of his palm against his hairline. His eyes slipped shut, a deep breath being taken in the name of control. "Okay. I need – I need to get help. Something's wrong with me. I need – Axel. I need help." He shook his head slowly. "I'm losing my mind."
"Roxas?"
The blond spun, tripping over his own feet in his haste, tumbling back against the large chair. Vaan crossed to him in a few quick steps, grabbing him before he slipped, expression concerned. "Jesus, look at you," the other boy exclaimed, eyebrows shooting together. "What's wrong? Are you having a heart attack or something?"
Roxas shook his head hurriedly. "I'm okay. I just – got dizzy." He pushed away from the blond, closed his eyes briefly. "What's going on? What happened to the breach? Did you see Sora?"
"…Yeah, I did, he sent me here," the white-blond boy responded unsurely. "It looks like some Zanarkand soldiers got in. The others are keeping them busy – I came to get the core."
Roxas frowned, rubbed the corners of his eyes. "The – the core?"
Vaan nodded. "I need to get it somewhere safe in case they break through."
"But…" Roxas glanced over at the bank of controls, the flickering screens, confused. "But I thought if the core was disturbed, Twilight Town – you know. Isn't it the whole reason Twilight Town is going?"
"It's fine, Roxas," the teen reassured. "Tron'll make sure Twilight Town stays running. This is standard procedure." He made sure Roxas was steady on his feet, patted his shoulders slightly, and went over to the computer. He sat smoothly, started typing. The stumbling tack of keys filled the air. Roxas went slowly over to the smaller chair, sat down and helplessly watched. Fear fluttered in his throat. "Is Axel okay? He's not – he's not fighting, is he?" Vaan didn't respond, caught up in his concentration. Roxas stood again, agitated. "I should go help. It's not the guy that attacked me, so I should – I should go see if they need me – "
"Yeah, you do that," Vaan said distractedly. "I'll take care of the core, promise."
Roxas nodded, fingers tightening around the keyblade. "Where should I go?" Silence. Roxas tilted his head slightly, studying the other teen. A thought occurred to him. "Didn't… Sora send you to take care of me? He said he'd send someone."
"Look, Roxas." Impatience. "Just go, okay? You'll be fine. I'm sure Axel will protect you, or Demyx or someone. It's really not a big deal, just a little breach of security. They'll be cleaned up in no time."
"Then – why are you taking the core?"
Vaan paused, scratched his forehead roughly with his fingertips. "It's just safer this way," he said sharply. "Now will you quit with all the questions and just get the fuck out of here? You're not even on duty tonight."
"No, I know, but Sora asked if…" Roxas paused, gaze narrowing slightly, watching the teen. "No one's ever said about the core going anywhere. I thought the system was – delicate."
Vaan crashed his fists on the keyboard, startling the blond back a step. His head whipped around, eyes slitted, hissing, "I think I know the procedure better than you, newbie. Just get the fuck out of here, before I decide to kick your ass, huh?"
Roxas' eyes widened. "I'm the one holding the keyblade," he said with an edge. "I doubt you'll kick me far before I end up cutting you. What the hell is up with you?"
The boy ran his hands through his hair, obviously fighting for control, frustration bubbling up. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? But if things get out of hand, I need to make sure the core doesn't fall to the enemy. There's pressure on me, kid, and I'd prefer to not fuck up."
Roxas faltered. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, he didn't know Vaan, but without anyone else around, he didn't know how to act upon this. Vaan seemed genuine, he was a techie, for Christ's sake – there was a disturbance in the castle, and if he said the core needed protecting, who was Roxas to try and disagree? There was plenty he didn't know, by his own admission, so who was he to try and prevent the teen from fulfilling what could well be a duty of protecting Twilight Town from the hands of the raiders? But… Sora had said that what was happening with the system – it was caused by a techie. Someone he trusted was betraying him – and Vaan's behaviour was weird right now. Sora – he'd asked Roxas to take care of Twilight Town.
He wavered. It wasn't like he could contribute much to a fight at the moment anyway… and… there was just, there was an uncertainty about Vaan, this air of agitation. "Can you leave, please?" the white-blond said tersely. "I can't fucking concentrate with you hanging over me like that. Go help the others. They need you. Axel's there, he needs you."
"Axel's fighting?" Roxas' brain snapped away from the room in an instant, panic for the redhead filling his every pore. All thoughts of staying fled as he gritted his teeth. "That idiot. Vaan,where do I go?"
"Go?" Both blond-topped heads swung around, as an unfamiliar man entered the room, confidence oozing from every ounce of his being. Roxas stared for a moment, before his eyes drifted to the single-barrel shotgun propped against the man's shoulder. Eyes widening, he sucked in a breath, backed away sharply, keyblade coming up. The stranger said, smirking, "Oh, you're not going anywhere, old boy – wouldn't want you alerting the others, now, would we?"
"Zanarkand," Roxas guessed, voice hard. Apprehension gripped his lungs, eyes darting back to the gun. Its bearer shrugged.
"If you say so." He sauntered closer, lips pursed, an utterly casual air about him. "So, then, how about you place down that curious-looking creation and take a seat like your friend, sunshine?"
"You can't have the core," Roxas stated, fingers firming around the keyblade despite the oil of sweat slicking under his skin. "We won't let you take it."
The man lifted an eyebrow. "'We'?" He glanced over at Vaan. "Are you just about finished, or do I have to come and do that for you?"
There was a beat of silence as Vaan paused, hands poised over the keyboard, face tilted slightly towards Roxas as the blond processed these words mutely. Quietly, the taller boy said, "I can do it, Balthier."
The man twirled a hand elegantly. "Well, then, get on with it. If I'd thought we were going to stay and chat, I'd have brought a picnic, but sadly, we really do have to rush." He smiled at Roxas. "We'll be out of your hair shortly. My apologies for the inconvenience."
Roxas gazed blankly at the white-blond. "What - what are you doing?"
"Who, Vaan?" the intruder asked, a charming smile in place. "He's working, feverishly no doubt, to pluck that pretty little piece of machinery from the system so we can all prance off into the night and leave you in peace."
Dread settled on his stomach, the keyblade sinking. "You're… stealing the core?" he asked quietly. Vaan resumed working. Roxas snatched the keyblade up, smashing it into the smaller chair to grab his attention. "You can't do this!" he shouted furiously. "You'll destroy Twilight Town!"
"It's a virtual town," replied Vaan passionlessly. "It's not even real."
"There are people in there," Roxas argued. "It's real to them! They're living their lives in there!"
"Then they're not real either," the teen muttered.
Roxas took a breath, staring in distress for moment, before stepping back and sweeping up the keyblade, uncertain but determined. "I won't let you take it."
The gun was suddenly down at hip level, pointed at Roxas, loaded noisily, deliberately. Wearing a broad, amused grin, the man said, "Now, now, no playing rough. Just relax, lad, this will be over before you know it."
Roxas stared for a moment, eyebrows lowering in defeat. "You can't do this," he said desperately. "Damn it, Vaan, what the fuck are you doing?"
"I'm getting out," he said tightly, not glancing up from where he worked. "You might be content wasting your whole goddamn life away in this shit-hole, but I want to be free. I want to be a pirate, Roxas, and this is the best way to get there."
"Consider this his virgin outing," the cheerful man drawled. "He gives us the Jenova core to do with what we will, and he gains a spot on my ship." He paused, added brightly, "He hates you all, you know."
"Shut the fuck up, Balthier," Vaan snapped. He spared a glance at Roxas. "Look, Roxas, don't take this personally. I don't hate everyone, I just want this shit to end. I want to be in the sky, and this is my only ticket up there."
Roxas blinked rapidly. "Don't take it personally? These are – my friends. You'll kill them."
"No, I won't," he replied patiently. "They'll be fine. As long as the core survives, they survive."
"But – what are you going to do with it?"
"Sell it? Crush it and smoke it?" Balthier suggested. "It's a valuable little trinket. We'll take special care of it." He winked. "Pirate's promise."
In a snap-motion,Roxas leapt forward, aiming a backhand whack at Vaan's head with the blunt side of the keyblade, clipping him a split-second before the man's gun rammed in and knocked it away. Vaan hissed a curse, not pausing in his work except to quickly check to see if there was blood beneath his hair.
"No brains coming out? Good, keep going," Balthier said swiftly, unsympathetic. "We don't have time for this little game, Vaan. If you want to come with us, you get that core out now." He slipped in front of the chair, facing Roxas with a sigh. "As for you – very rude, I must say. Attacking an unarmed man? I dare say, that was cowardly." He stabbed with the barrel, driving it deep into the blond's stomach. Roxas let out groan, dropping to his knees. A moment later, he vomited, tasted sourness and blood from where he'd bitten himself. "Leave him alone," Vaan said sharply. "He's already got cracked ribs. Fuck, he doesn't need us beating him up."
"Just returning the favour," the man said airily. He swirled the gun impatiently. "Why is this taking so long? You said two minutes, tops."
"I wasn't expecting to have company, okay?! The lab was meant to be empty."
"Ah, yes, but your dear cracked-rib friend has spoiled that, hasn't he?" Balthier's voice hardened momentarily. "Make sure you're serious about this, Vaan. It would be a bad start to your career if you were to slow us down."
"It's nearly done," the boy insisted. "There's something interfering with the last of the virus. The core's fighting us."
"I do so love my women feisty," Balthier sighed. "But really, we haven't the time for this." He twisted to Roxas' heaving form, kicking him with a toe as the blond attempted to drag himself up by the other chair. "You, do you know anything about all this? Maybe you'll do better." He lifted the gun with a pleasant smile. "With proper encouragement, of course."
"Don't bother," Vaan said crossly. "He doesn't know how, he's too new."
Roxas sat back on his heels slowly, clutching his middle, gasping, eyes glued shut. He still held Sora's keyblade, knuckles white around the metal. His middle was on fire, all centred on a whirlwind in the centre, a choking pain spiralling to encompass his chest. He struggled to regain his breath, the rapid tick of typing increasing to a fever-pitch for a moment, before: "There. It's done." Roxas' head snapped up, eyes horrified. A small panel opened up in the centre of the controls, a red light blossoming from within. Balthier raised his eyes, glancing around, apparently pleased with the lack of alarm.
"Bravo. I'm impressed. You took less time than I thought you would." Vaan shot him a glare, got up and reached in, arm disappearing almost to the elbow inside the control bank. Roxas watched with desperate helplessness as a small grape-sized ball was withdrawn, hair-thin wires ravelled around it. Vaan all but brushed them off, their grip so gentle, so delicately placed.
Roxas' eyes darted about. Why was nothing happening? Why wasn't the castle in an uproar by now? The core was out. "Don't," he said hoarsely, eyes boring into the side of the teen's head. "Please." Vaan barely looked at him. The computer screen flickered, briefly blue, then died. Roxas stared in horror. Oh, God. Hayner, Pence, Olette…
Balthier stepped forward, tucking the shotgun under his arm, bringing out a small box, the sort usually reserved for holding glittering engagement rings, diamonds the size of rocks, dark blue velvet, silken insides. Vaan carefully placed the seed of technology within, eased the lid shut. The pirate tucked the box into a pouch around his middle, backed off to allow Vaan to stand and exit the terminal. "Let's go," the teen said tersely. "Fran can't keep the others busy forever."
"My thoughts precisely, old boy," the man agreed suavely. "But – " He gestured with the gun. "Your friend?"
The boy hesitated, glancing down at Roxas for a silent moment, gaze going from one pleading blue eye to the other. "…He won't stop us."
They turned to leave, started towards the core was being taken right out from under Roxas' nose! A spike of panic flashed through him. "Vaan, wait! You can't do this!" He dragged himself to his feet, keyblade clanging dully against the tiles."Bring it back!" They ignored him utterly, and as long as that bastard was toting a firearm, there was nothing he could do.
Or at least, almost nothing.
He took a deep breath, let it out in a hiss. He turned, eyeing the terminal for a moment, sizing it up, hoping that whatever Vaan had done with the computer hadn't shut off the security system indefinitely. Then, biting his lip, he swung the keyblade up over his shoulder, baseball style, every muscle tensing, readying, and drove it straight into the controls with a crash. The vacating thieves leapt at the noise, spun around with identically round eyes as Roxas wound up, took another wild smash, face contorted with effort. A frantic edge crossed Vaan's expression, he started back, reaching out a hand, stuttering, "W-wait – !" Spurred on, a thrill of hope sparking to life at his tone, Roxas stuck a foot onto the edge of the bank, lifted straight up, and buried the keyblade into the core's former resting place, feeling the walls shred under its sharp teeth.
Sirens erupted out of nowhere, screaming deafeningly, the world becoming a blaze of strobing lights. He ripped free, continued with one last blow, stabbed the screen with a deep, muted growl, watched it shatter, spit and sweat flying. The keyblade remained where it was, rammed deep, the blond backing away, lost inside the insanity blaring from every inch of the room.
A hand wrapped around his neck, shoved him across the room, thudding against the wall. A moment later, the shotgun slammed against his throat, blocking his airway. He inhaled instinctively, nothing happening except for the swelling of his tongue, the revolt of his lungs. He gagged and writhed, fingers plucking futilely at the metal as a mouth came up against his ear. A murmured shout: "If I were a more spiteful man, you wouldn't live to see the sun." A forceful grinding of the weapon, threatening to crush him, and suddenly Roxas was released, sagging down the wall, one hand scratching at it to keep from simply collapsing, while the other clutched at his neck. He screeched air, choking and gasping, brain a nervous wreck from the profusion of lights and noise. Nails digging into his skin, he looked up, found the room deserted. Hopelessness crashed over him.
They were gone, and they'd taken Twilight Town with them.
Roxas crumbled into exhausted tears.
