For those of you who have enjoyed my story and have been very patiently awaiting more, I apologize for the length of my absence, being extremely busy coupled with writers block has delayed me, but I hope to be a little more active now.

In another city not too far from the capital stood a skyscraper used to house those of ill temperament and fallow sanity. A Dark Portal opened in the center of the hallway eight floors from the top and the seven floors above collapsed in upon themselves from the sudden change in air pressure.

A shotgun like blast of fragments of black ice shot out of the portal and opened a hole in the wall and the two Chasers emerged and took up positions on either side of the hole inside the room. They aimed their Keyblades at the room's sole occupant. His feral smile and dead eyes grim testament to the fact that his unwanted passenger had on numerous occasions exerted power and control over its unwilling host.

"Well ladies, it appears to me that your brother has been quite actively against his imprisonment. Shall we grant his wish and cast him free?" There was a tortured scream of terror and anguish from down the hall and a mad cackle from the man whose solitude they had broken as surely as the wall of his cell.

"Set me free or leave me be, it matters naught. Death would be preferable to this torment, yet I know that if you get your way which I cannot prevent I'd be doomed to a far more cursed existence. I can't deny you, oh no, for the one with the strength for that has not come yet. But I defy you. Yes, that at least I can do."

With another insane laugh he lifted his shirt, which he had thus far held carefully away from his chest to reveal a hole carved out of his flesh by the debris of the wall when they had blasted it open. Just visible in his damaged chest was a quivering lump that was the remains of his failing heart. "Quickly now or you'll lose your prize."

Elsewhere, so close at hand that it was a wonder that none knew of the location's existence, there was a chamber filled with light. A woman so old that it was a wonder she still lived sat upon a chair of carven wood. She was clothed in a simple cloak radiantly composed of light that shone in all colors and none.

This crone cackled mirthlessly and without pity. "Petty children squabbling over borrowed time on a handful of worlds that were never theirs. Nearly all the pawns are in play now and soon the board shall be swept clean once again."