The intensity of darkness.
He sat there on his throne, fingers steepled as he watched the stars. His brothers and sisters were understandably very interested in the Keyblade wielder on the world know as Earth Bet.
Though he supposed that he would be lying if he said he was not. It was a very intriguing situation. A magically dead world, people known as capes with odd and fantastic powers breaking all the rules of magic and science as they knew them, a new wielder of the Keyblade was chosen and was apparently willing to work with his kin for the first time since the great war.
And this is without mentioning the fact that the wielders apparent lover had become a magical source. Those were as rare as they were precious. He snorted in amusement as it occurred to him that Boco and Mog had struck gold there anchoring themselves to that one.
He himself had been gathering his power, as every esper had to be frank. They were all so very interested in acquiring new fayth again.
But as he waited and watched, as the little blue marble in the cosmos spun on its axis, he had caught sight of another one. One of these capes that baffled him and others oh so very much.
She was interesting to him, her emotions a swirling dark mess of anger and hate, not so different from so many others he had seen. But lately, there was something more to the girl. A sense of calm, of acceptance and something that, if he squinted, might pass for joy.
He had started observing the girl closely after this. Her hatred was understandable with the life she lived, but to see her tame it like this? Not lose it, oh no, but to tame it! Chained up like a beast to be unleashed when useful, slowly but surely, chain by chain.
He had enough energy to take a peek now if he wanted, to make a hole for a brief time. Granted, it would set him back for weeks if he did, and most espers would laugh if they knew what he was planning to do.
But as ever, he was a patient creature, having long since learned to bide his time. Yes! He would have a look at this one, perhaps even talk to her. The Keyblade could wait, it would still be there in a few weeks, but this was the first thing in a very long time that made him truly interested.
Sophia was tired. Training with Miss Militia did that to you, but fighting her like she did? She was just happy she could walk! Still, she was getting better at it. One of these days she would beat MM and then…. and then….
Sophia shook her head as she entered her room, wincing as she took off her shoes and socks. She had twisted her ankle with a bad step, and though the bruise forming was an impressive one, at least there was none of the tell-tale swelling of a larger problem.
She laid down on her bed, tired but oddly satisfied. She was getting stronger. Soon, no one would stop her ever again! Not Grue, not the E88 nor any car acci… She snarled and turned around. That was not worth thinking about, so she would just curl up, sleep and then go another few rounds with Militia tomorrow.
As she laid there in the dark, waiting for sleep, she thought she heard something.
"….s..p...a…."
She turned around to look at the door. Were any of the idiots fumbling about out there?
"... Sop...hia ….."
She sat up and glared at the door. "What? Anyone out there?" She said, trying to keep a calm tone. She needed sleep for fucks sake!
"...There you are, Sophia…."
She whirled around to look at the wall behind her, where the voice came from. There was only the darkness of the room. Though, as she watched it seemed to deepen, somehow growing darker, and heavier.
"... Greetings little one, I have looked forward to meeting you."
The voice rang out from the darkness, clearly this time, yet it had a hollow and sibilant quality to it. Now, the smart thing to do, would be to call for backup. But Sophia did not care, who was this to break into her room like that?
She flicked on the lights, grabbed a set of weights to throw at whoever it was... and stared at the pool of darkness on the back wall of her room before speaking in an angry hiss. "How the hell did you get in here? Speak up before I brain you!"
The voice chuckled.
"Oh, do not worry yourself overmuch Sophia, I am not there as such, merely speaking to you through this little shadow of mine. Though i suppose we could speak … eye to eye?"
Slowly, a pair of glowing red eyes opened in the middle of the roiling pool of darkness, shining with a malevolent light, baleful and demonic. Sophia could see the contained power in that gaze, the power of a predator. She chucked the weight at them.
As the weight smacked into the wall with a bang, the voice again chuckled infuriatingly, its eyes turning up slightly in mirth.
"Good instincts you have there, though come now, is it so bad that I want to talk, to meet you? One 'beast' to another, as polite society would call ones such as us?"
Sophia stared at the eyes for a moment. There was something… alien about them, yet at the same time they were so very familiar, as she saw eyes like that in the mirror every day.
No! She would not run from this one, she was stronger than that dammit. Decision made, she waved a hand vaguely at .. him. "Talk, then. What do you want?" She snarled.
She could practically see his amusement. "So much hatred in you, so much anger, far more than one would expect to see in one so young, one so fragile. It intrigued me enough that I had to see it for myself."
She cut him off. "So what, you like Gallant or something, then? You can't stand to see someone angry? You want to help them? Well, FUCK! YOU! I am stronger than any ward here, I don't need your help!" How dare this damn red eyed shadow call her fragile?
She was strong dammit! She was getting stronger still, with all the training. She should just sound the alarm and make this idiot leave, he was like all the rest.
To her surprise, he did not get angry or insulted. Instead, he laughed. A dark, throaty laugh that gave her goose bumps. He focused his gaze on her again and spoke, voice thick with mirth.
"Oh I haven't laughed like that in years. No, Sophia you do not need help. When I first saw you, you were like all the rest of them. Angry, hateful, lashing out at the world.
But now? Now you are mastering your hate! Chaining it up like the beast it is, lashing it down, controlling it, turning it into a weapon to be unleashed on your foe at your command.
I did not think a creature as far gone down the road of blind hatred as you were, could manage this. But you did, and it impressed me."
Sophia reeled back as if struck. What, how did-? She shook her head. Whoever this guy was, he was weird, and too clever for her liking.
Deep down he struck a chord with her though. Her hatred, a weapon to be controlled, huh? That was … an interesting way to look at it.
Everyone else tried to "help" her, tried to make her "let go of the rage". That never worked.
Miss Militia was better, tried to make her work it off, it was …. nice, in a way, Sophia had to admit. But this guy…
"Do not talk as if you know me!" She snarled. "How can you, I am a top predator not some… Lunatic like Lung or Hookwolf!" She was almost yelling near the end there, and reigned in her voice.
Though that was a strange thing, in and of itself. Why was she still talking? Why had she not just pushed the alarm yet on this joker?
Because... she wanted to know what he had to say, she realised with a start.
The gaze from the blackness tilted slightly.
"No I do not know you entirely, but I have seen the path so many times before. But no matter, my time is short and I have a question for you? Just the one, if you would humour me. I do wonder if you know the answer...
What are you angry at?"
The eyes widened slightly, and Sophia got the uncomfortable feeling that he was staring right through her.
"Fine!" She spat. "I am angry at all the weak people of the world, all those who won't help themselves, who won't be strong, at The Merchants for being such sacks of SHIT!"
The eyes tilted again questioningly.
Sophia carried on, caught up in her tirade by now. "I am angry at Grue, at the weaklings holding me back, at the fucking PRT for leashing me like this, at Taylor fucking Hebert for just standing there…." She panted, though it felt good to scream at someone who asked, in a way.
The eyes moved from side to side, giving the impression of someone shaking their head.
"No, not really, you are angry at much more fundamental things."
Sophia almost screamed.
"The fuck do you know anyway?"
How dared this .. THING tell her that he knew her better than she did?
The eyes looked almost… sad? No, that couldn't be.
"You are angry at the world for hurting you so much, you are angry at yourself because you feel you were too weak, you are angry at those in whom you see yourself, and at those in whom you see your failures reflected. But most of all, you are angry at your father, for dying and leaving you alive, missing him so terribly."
the voice spoke in a sombre tone.
Sophia sat down on the bed, her legs suddenly feeling boneless. What? What was he talking about?
She buried her face in her hands, eyes moistening.
No, no that could not be it. She was strong! She would never be weak again! Not like her fa...
Sophia curled up on the bed, staring at the wall blankly. The voice spoke again behind her.
"Hatred takes many forms young one, but it is ultimately born of tragedy. I have to leave you now, my time here is up, but I will be back to see how you are doing. Soldier on, young Sophia."
A tendril detached from the darkness and brushed over her arm. A feeling of cold fire rushed through her, soothing her in a strange way. The throbbing in her ankle subsided a bit and the bruises on her arm faded.
She turned quickly, and looked at the rapidly shrinking patch on the wall.
"Rest now and think on my words, till we meet again little Stalker."
The darkness shrank and dissipated entirely. Sophia was still sitting there on the bed, rubbing her arm thoughtfully, when Miss Militia entered a few minutes later to check up on the noise she had heard. Whoever that had been, Sophia wanted to meet him again.
He sat back on his throne. Some would have called that a waste of power, but they could laugh if they wanted to. He was well satisfied with that little venture. The one called Sophia was a fascinating one.
It had been many a long age since he had found a mortal he wanted to talk to... her hatred was strong but it could be tempered. It would be awhile before he could visit again, but he found himself looking forward to it.
He sat back with a small smile on his face feeling … happy, he supposed. Well, he would have to gather power for his next visit then, as that last touch of kindness had surprised him as much as it had the human. Oh well, it would take some time, but Diabolos was nothing if not patient.
The Moogle's Workshop.
Mog was fluttering about in the attic of the Dollhouse, as usual. These last few day he had come to prefer spending a little more time to himself than he usually did. After the events that came to light that fateful Tuesday, Sabah needed a bit of space, and he needed some time to think.
Pushing those dark thoughts to the back of his mind, he looked around the workshop he had cobbled together in the time since the debacle with that wannabe dragon called Lung.
Funny how that man thought he was so much better than others, just because he could turn into some pseudo-draconic monstrosity. Why, a skilled Dragoon or a true dragon would have handed him his own backside in no short order. Still, in retrospect, it was a good thing Ifrit had shown up when he did. Even if the knucklehead went about it in his usual brutish way.
Shaking those thoughts away as he silently lamented the ease with which he became distracted these days, he turned the knob on a tube connected to a small oven he had fixed up and repurposed. The people of Earth Bet had some fascinating devices, and they threw perfectly salvageable stuff away. It had been easy for him to find, fix and modify stuff to make what he needed.
His Synthesis assembly lines and machines looked like something out of a mad hobo tinker's lab. Wires were hooked up to an old TV that glowed green, cables and tubes running out of it connecting to flasks, ovens, refrigerators and other miscellaneous and sometimes unidentifiable devices and machines that Mog had modified as necessary.
And unlike his initial set up in Parian's old house, this one would not break. He was quite proud of the fact that he only had two minor explosions happen while setting it all up and testing it too!
Currently, he was cooking up a batch of ethers and potions, since if he was going to teach Sabah some magic he wanted to have those on hands for when she got tired. And in case of accidents, of course. Although, Taylor hitting Ifrit with a lightning bolt had been hilarious. But the esper could take it, even in his reduced form. A human would not have been so lucky. It had been a powerful bolt spell after all.
As he was turning knobs, checking the screen and setting up the boiler, he heard Ifrit call out for him from over by the hatch leading down to the Dollhouse proper.
"Mog? Are you up there, Moogle boy?" Ifrit hollered, loud and obnoxious as usual. Mog sighed, he should never have agreed to let the knucklehead up here in the first place. Though at least Ifrit had not broken anything, yet. Mog smirked to himself. Probably because the last thing the fire demon had prodded too hard, had promptly vented yellow steam at him and made the demon stumble around drunkenly for a while.
"Yes I am up here, Kupo, what do you want?" He yelled back as he made sure everything was running smoothly before turning around.
Ifrit clambered up through the hatch before answering. "Just wanted to see how you were doing. You have been very quiet lately, which was nice at first, but now it is becoming worrying. So, I thought I'd see just what you were up to. ...That, and I got bored." Ifrit said, shrugging.
Mog stared at him for a moment. "I am brewing up potions, if you must know. And you know very well why I have been quiet, Kupo." He said finally, glaring at Ifrit.
The Plush toy from hell in question snorted and made himself comfortable on one of the many pillows Mog had strewn about the place. "Still hung up on that?" Ifrit gave off a bark of laughter. "It was an accident, you got yelled at, and you punished yourself plenty already. In short: You fucked up, deal with it!"
Mog sighed in exasperation. Taylor was right, TV was having a bad effect on Ifrit's vocabulary. Still, he knew that Ifrit was correct, on a logical level anyway. On an emotional level however….
"I know that, Kupo! But forgetting about it is not that easy. I have to make sure this never happens again." He snapped and turned to adjust the boiler that had started making gurgling noises.
Ifrit shrugged and lay down lazily on his pillow. For a while, there was an almost comfortable sort of silence as Mog adjusted, refilled and tapped a variety of machines to fill up the bottles of vaguely glowing green liquid. Ifrit was observing the process with casual interest.
Mog knew Ifrit had a passing fascination with synthesis, but not the patience for the art. Still, the old goat had picked up a trick or two over the centuries from his observations, Mog knew.
Like how to crystallise magic into a solid form. That he had then used this knowledge to give Mouse Protector a magic sword? That was a headache Mog was glad he did not have to deal with. The PHO were going crazy enough over it already.
After a while, Ifrit turned around lazily to look at Mog again, before waving an arm at the small pile of potion bottles. "Where did you find the materials to make all this stuff, anyways? Far as I know, there are only a few different ways to do this. And none of them would be feasible on a world this magically barren." Ifrit asked, raising an eyebrow.
Mog looked at Ifrit for a moment. "You mean you have not noticed, Kupo?" He said, fluttering over to rummage in a bag off to the side.
"Noticed what, exactly?" Ifrit rumbled, getting up from his pillow and walking over to Mog.
"Well, I suppose I have been collecting most of it around here, and you do have to LOOK for them to find them, but the entire city, from what I have seen, have these things strewn all over. It is quite the conundrum, really, Kupo." He turned around and held up a lucid shard for Ifrit to see.
Ifrit jumped back slightly. "What the hell is that doing here? Do you know what this means?" Ifrit yelled as his mane caught on fire. He stared at the shard like it would jump up and bite him.
"Calm down, Kupo. I have not seen any other trace of … them …. But these things are scattered all over. So, for some reason, someone or something, has destroyed any presence they might have had, Kupo." Mog said while going for one of the fire extinguishers Sabah had demanded he put up here after seeing his setup. He thought she worried overmuch, but he was starting to see the point. He just hoped Ifrit would calm down before he scorched the floor.
Ifrit took a deep breath, his mane dimming slightly. "Ok, that is a good thing, I suppose. But what destroyed them? And what is preventing them from coming back?" He said, worry still tinting his tone.
"I … I do not actually know that, Kupo." Mog said, feeling a little embarrassed. He had tried to look into it with Boco's help, but had no luck in figuring it out so far.
Ifrit gave him a look heavy with concern. "That is possibly even more worrying. Especially with a Keyblade here." He sat down looking thoughtful. "Tonight, I will try to get in contact with the others. Diabolos or Ramuh might know something." He scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"I thought you disliked talking to those two, Kupo" Mog said, a strand of dark mirth making its way into his voice as he tried not to smirk.
"I do." Ifrit snorted. "But the Edgelord and the stuffy old coot are probably my best bet here, as Ramuh knows more things than I care to imagine, and Devil-boy spends more time in the darkness than is healthy for anyone." Ifrit shrugged. "Good luck with the potions. I will go gather the energy I need for this." Having said his piece, Ifrit swiped an Ether as he headed down the hatch again, grumbling to himself as he went.
Mog sighed. He could see why Ifrit might need one, but he could have bloody well asked!
Still. It was probably for the best that they figure this out soon.
Shrugging to himself, he turned back to his machinery. Ohh! It looked like the latest batch came out looking really nice! He might try making a few Hi-potions out of those!