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 3
Something was wrong. That was clear, as clear as the cloudless sky. For nearly a quarter of an hour he had not heard anything. No messages, no prayers, no favors being asked for, no nagging from his siblings, nothing. It was disturbing; it was leaving him with an anxious feeling in his gut.
Yet, at the same time he was grateful. He was free, free from the constant stress that was his job. He had free time, time to himself. It had been a long time since last he had time to relax. In fact, since he had taken his current job, he'd never had a moment to relax. He had never been given a moment of time away from work, unless you count the battle just over two months ago, which he did not count as free time.
He had curly salt-and-pepper hair, and elfish features. He wore a suit, making him look overly business like. On his head he wore a pith helmet, which sprouted wings, and he sported winged shoes. In the crook of his arm was a long staff entwined with two living serpents. He was Hermes, eleventh of the Olympians.
He felt a tingling in his spine, and knew something was wrong. Athena's presence, something Hermes was always aware of, had just disappeared. That was bad; New York already seemed to be lifeless and deserted. If Athena too abandoned the city, things had to be in terrible shape. For a moment Hermes wondered if Kronos was responsible, but he quickly discarded that idea.
The last thing he remembered was delivering a message to some hospital on the west coast. Then there had been a flash of black light, and he had awoken in Manhattan, surrounded by peace and quiet, blocked off from his responsibilities as a messenger. He could, faintly, feel the godly presence of all the other eleven Olympians, save Athena.
Look behind you. Said one of the snakes wrapped around his caduceus. Hermes turned.
There was a person standing near the god. The person, for Hermes was unsure if it was a man or woman, was clad in black boots, black gloves, and black cloak that had pointed shoulders. A hood covered the person's head, casting a shadow on the person's face.
"What's up?" The person, a man based off his voice, asked, his English think with a California surfer's inflection. Hermes was surprised the man hadn't called him bro.
"Are you the one responsible for all this?" Hermes asked, referring to the desertion of life in New York.
"Me? As if. I can't take responsibility for this. I'm just a nobody, not even a paper pusher."
"Who are you?" Hermes asked.
"Original much. Why is it people always ask you who you are. Do you think I'll tell you who I am just because you ask? As if. I think the question you need to as is WHO ARE YOU?"
"I know who I am." Hermes responded reflexively.
"And who would that be?"
"I'm Hermes, god of roads, speed, messengers, commerce, travel, and thieves."
"You, a god? As if. You don't look half as powerful as the gods I've seen." The man reached up and removed his hood, revealing elf-like ears, upturned eyebrows, and dark hair with several grey streaks tied into a long ponytail. He also had two visible injuries on his face; the first being a damaged right eye covered by an eye-patch, while the other is a large jagged scar extending from his left cheek to just under his left eye.
"You doubt I'm a god?" Hermes asked with a sly grin.
"Duh. Dude, that's what I just said. Why? What are you going to do about it?" The man asked.
"This." Hermes rushed forwarded, swinging his caduceus at the one eyed man's head. The man vanished.
"Missed me, missed me, now you've got to kiss me." The man taunted. This stopped Hermes for a moment.
"You want me to kiss you?" The god asked, confused.
"You, kiss me? As if. It's an expression, dude." The man sneered.
Hermes again rushed over to the man, swinging his caduceus in a wide arc, the two snakes ready to bite the man. Again Hermes was met with empty space. Again, the man's voice called out from behind the god.
"You're not very good at fighting, are you?"
Do you have any rats? One of the snakes asked, earning a short laugh of surprise from the man.
This is hardly the time, George! The other snake snapped.
"So, will you tell me your name?" Hermes asked, trying to distract the man.
"Tell you what. If you can score a hit on me, I'll tell you my name. Deal?"
Hermes rushed forward. As he reached where the man was standing, Hermes twisted his body, and fired two lasers from what had been his caduceus. The two red beams of light lanced out and struck the one-eyed man as he appeared out of thin air. The man staggered back, then dropped to one knee.
"You clever little sneak!" The man muttered. Standing, using his one eye to glare at Hermes, the man said "The name's Xigbar, number two of Organization Thirteen."
A black mass of energy formed around each of Xigbar's hands, slowly shaping into purplish, strangely shaped weapons that appeared to be somewhat similar to crossbows. Six purple rhombus shaped points extruded from the grip of the weapons, and a rhombus of purplish energy rested in the part of the weapon that would normally house a bolt on a crossbow.
Xigbar raised his weapons, pointing them at Hermes, and smirked playfully. "Got ya now."
And their battle began.