Summary: Xemnas, in a mad act of desire, has chosen thirteen new targets to turn into heartless. It's his belief that their hearts will finally complete Kingdom Hearts.
Characters: Olympian Gods and Organization XIII.
Universe: Game
Warnings: Mild violence and mild language.
Dedication: I dedicate this story to Apollo, for without him there would be no literature, and I would have no writing skills.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor do I own Percy Jackson.
Falling Skys, Chapter 2
Her nonexistent vision was filled with nothing; no bright blues or dark silver, the colors she most enjoyed. There were no yellows or light greens, the colors she found distasteful. There wasn't white, or whiteness, or any form of illuminating light; there wasn't black, or blackness, or any form of obscuring darkness. There was only a pool of ethereal something, an absent nothingness to fill her false sight with imagery.
She both felt and thought, and yet she didn't feel or think. At moments, she would swear that she hear the whimper of a fox, or smell the distinct odor of a lily. The next moment, she felt as though she couldn't feel at all. A world of conflicting paradoxes surrounded and drowned her; she was trapped in a world of devouring emptiness.
Years, or perhaps seconds, passed. She was alone; she felt like she wasn't alive. Nothing she did happened, because every action she took didn't occur. Then there was a somethingness.
"I can see you now." A voice filled her spectral thoughts. "Why is it you stay in this realm between realms? Why not allow yourself to fade away, and become a part of the Ether?"
Her reply was long to come; at least she thinks it was a while before she answered. "Who are you?"
Then she remembered. It was a flash, a succinct glimpse of her life, what she had been before this oblivion. And with that fleeting look at her history, she knew who she was. She knew what she was. She knew that she was powerful, that she wouldn't fade away.
She was Athena, goddess of wisdom, handicrafts, strategy and defensive warfare. She was Athena, daughter of Zeus and Metis, born from the flesh of Zeus himself. She was Athena, sixth of the Olympians, wielder of the shield Aegis. She was Athena, and she refused to fade away.
She expanded her mind, forcing her power outward, filling the surrounding nothingness with her celestial strength. She felt, momentarily, something struggle against her, then she again felt nothing. Then the nothingness broke apart.
She stood in an empty street, massive buildings rising upward, ever yearning to meet the heavens. She was in New York, though something was off; there were no sounds, none of the hustle and bustle that normally would be associated with the big apple. The only living person, if indeed it could be called living, stood thirteen feet away.
It was a boy, young and physically small, with steel-blue, the messy bangs completely covered the right side of his face, reaching almost two inches past his chin. On his left side, his bangs, though still rather long, were shorter than the right side, partially covering his ear, yet revealing his eye, a dazzling aqua. The boy was panting, as though he'd just ran a marathon, and he was tightly clutching his chest.
"You're a little vixen, aren't you?" He asked, his voice a calm monotone, despite his strained breathing.
"Who are you?" She asked again, using her powers to generate a blade of steel, her bronze armor forming on her body.
"Me? My dear goddess, surely you're aware the rudeness connoted to so blunt a question."
Athena tossed her sword into the air, and trusted her arm out. Her sword flickered, reforming into six oversized bolts of bronze. There was a slight twitch of her wrist, and the bolts shot forward. The strange looking boy watched the projectiles as they approached, saying at the very last moment a single, clear word. "Reflect."
A hundred panels of multihued energy formed, shaped into a dome of reflective power. The bronze bolts hit the dome, and then bounced off, harmlessly falling to the ground. The boy smirked, gave a small cough, and started clutching his chest again.
"Deplorable. How can someone like you, the protector of civilization no less, be so lacking in your civility?" The boy said. "I am Zexion, if you must know. I am the sixth member of Organization XIII"
"Now, what are you?" Athena asked, another sword forming in her hand.
"Again, you are acting overly vulgar. Don't I even warrant a hello? A simple how are you? No, apparently not. You just demand and demand, never even stopping to consider that you may hurt someone's feelings." Zexion's voice, despite the words being said, was a polite monotone. "I am a Nobody. I've been tasked with…what's the proper term? Ah, yes. I've been tasked with facilitating your neutralization
Athena changed, growing larger, expanding, becoming seven, eight, twelve feet tall. Her sword swelled, extended, becoming denser. Zexion gazed, head tilted up, eyes locked with the goddess'.
"And all this time I've been told size doesn't matter." Zexion smirked.
Athena swung, Zexion continued to smirk, and the blade impaled the earth. Athena had missed, yet she knew she hadn't, for she'd struck the spot she'd aimed for, and the boy hadn't moved. Logically, since she hadn't missed, the boy should be dead. He wasn't, though.
"It isn't nice to attack an unarmed opponent. Where is your since of honor?" Zexion's voice came from behind her, yet Zexion was standing in front of her.
Athena turned, glancing behind her. There was no one behind her, nothing except a few abandoned cars and the skyscrapers on either side of the street. Looking back around, the goddess was again met with no one. Zexion had vanished. Athena blinked.
The world began to spin, toppling in on itself, compressing and inverting. Athena held her ground, watching as reality seemed to reshape itself. Then there were no skyscrapers, no streets, no New York. There was only grass, long and waving in the wind. Athena wasn't twelve feet anymore; not she was just under six.
There was a sound, a repetitive pounding, which sounded almost like thunder. Shouts could be heard, and a mass of dust was raising in the distance. On the horizon, at the edge of Athena's vision, horses could be seen, there riders looking vicious and animalistic. Then they were upon her.
From a distance, unseen, Zexion watched as the grate goddess of wisdom, the famed Athena, did battle with his illusions. And the Schemer laughed.