Chapter 103

On the Radiant Side

Dilan closed the door in the interrogation room and sat down in the chair across from Braig. The one-eyed former Nobody wore an orange prison jumpsuit, and his arms were cuffed to bars built into the table. A silver band was wrapped around his ankle, with an obsidian stone embedded in it to prevent him from teleporting anywhere. Dilan looked at Braig with his usual scowl, but Braig returned with his patent-pending cocky grin.

Dilan cleared his throat. "Are you ready to answer the questions we left you with?" he asked.

Braig shrugged his shoulders. "Are you ready to quit asking stupid questions?" he shot back dryly.

Dilan chose to take that as a simple "no", and work from there. "It doesn't seem as though imprisonment has done much for your attitude."

Braig chuckled. "Well, I spent the last eleven years being surrounded by idiots. Some of these guys have about as much personality as they did in the first few. Cafeteria food's not much worse than 'the slop that never was'; you and Vexen weren't much of cooks."

Dilan nodded his head to the side, conceding the point. "You know the funny thing about those idiots?" he asked. "They've all woken up as people, and they've gone back to being regular people. All except for one."

Braig let out a mock gasp. "You don't think a part of him might still be running around, do you?" he teased.

Dilan shook his head. "You and everyone else knows that both Xehanort's Heartless and Nobody have been slain. Therefore, under normal circumstances, he should have reformed in the same place where he had first split his heart from his body."

"So? You think I'd know if the old goat had anything up his sleeve? As if!"

Dilan raised an eyebrow, noticing Braig's choice of words. He had just referred to Xehanort as an "old goat", but the version that they all knew, whom Ansem had taken under his wing, was younger than Braig by at least a decade. Dilan had been told of the actions of the old Master Xehanort, who, according to the mouse king, was the same person as the younger Xehanort who had become Xemnas. If Braig knew as much about the man as the other former apprentices had until recently, he would not have known about the elder Xehanort. This proved that Braig knew more about Xehanort than he was letting on. Studying Braig's face, Dilan noticed a small twitch in his brow and a slight gulp in his jugular, signifying that he had realized his folly. This had both positive and negative implications: Dilan may be able to get Braig to slip up and reveal important clues, but the fact that he had caught his own mistake meant that he was likely to be more careful with his wording from now on.

"I remember how, after we first found Xehanort, you spent a lot of time hanging out with him, in spite of his quiet demeanor," Dilan recounted. "None of us really gave him much thought, aside from Ansem, until he convinced us to conduct our forbidden research in secret. But even before that, you acted unusually close with him. And then, when we became Nobodies, 'Xigbar' was the last one to materialize aside from Xemnas himself, and yet you became Number Two in the Organization and his most trusted subordinate, until Saïx was promoted."

Braig snickered. "Then you should go ask Saïx, since Xemnas clearly trusted him more highly in the Organization than he did me," he argued. "Xemnas kept his secrets. There was a lot that he didn't tell me. I even did some eavesdropping to see what else he had going on. Zexion can back me up on that."

"But now, wherever Xehanort went, rather than rejoining us in the castle on reformation, he left you behind," Dilan continued. "Whatever stake you had in his plans, past or future, he threw away as he cast you aside. And now, the rest of us are rebuilding our old lives, fixing what we destroyed. And where are you in all of this? Ah, yes. Rotting in a mildew-infested prison cell, putting up with poor hygiene, plastic cutlery, and humorless thugs who won't react too well once they are made aware of your involvement in the ruination of their former lives and the loss of ten years of normalcy. You don't even have your powers, so you must learn to sit still for more than an hour, unable to jump to security when you provoke someone with your terrible jokes. Perhaps your aim will deteriorate as well over time, and then you will be nothing more than Number 213568." He shrugged. "Perhaps that is already the case. Perhaps Xehanort threw you away like rubbish because he realized that is exactly what you are."

Braig's eye burned with rage. He tried to throw himself at Dilan, but his restraints prohibited him. "I am not rubbish!" he spat angrily. In spite of his outburst, Dilan did not flinch. Braig slowly realized that Dilan had intended to incense him like that. He took a deep breath and regained his composure, leaning back into his seat lazily. "Yeah, it is a shame. I don't know what to tell you, pal. Can I go back to my plastic cutlery and prison slop, now?"

Dilan nodded. "I suppose. Although I hope you'll change your mind and tell us in due time, before Ansem answers our questions and you lose all possible benefits and pardons that a simple confession would gain you," he said, standing up from his chair.

Braig looked at him, confused. "Ansem?" he parroted.

"Yes, Master Ansem the Wise. He is alive and well," Dilan explained. "And he was rescued from the Realm of Darkness, along with a woman named Aqua."

Braig's eye widened in shock, and he could not prevent himself from letting out a gasp. He calmed himself quickly, but it was too late. Dilan smirked as he left the room. He had not gotten the answers that everyone desired, but he had gained evidence that Braig knew far more than he was letting on. The only question was how he would deal with the information that he had admitted in between this session and the next.

Dilan turned down the hall while two guards went into the interrogation room to uncuff Braig and escort him back to general population.

In the castle's computer room, Even ran another program of his design over the computer's software. When the process was completed, he tried to open one of the corrupt files, but a window popped up proclaiming "THE DATA IS CORRUPT". Even cursed.

"No such luck with that algorithm, it seems," Ansem noted solemnly.

Even sighed. "I have done everything I can think of to clean up the corrupted code, even inventing new anti-malware programs to root out blind spots, but this—this mess is indecipherable!" he complained. He raised his fists to slam down on the keyboard console, but a message popped up on screen, saying "PLEASE DO NOT DO THAT", which guilted him into restraining himself.

Sighing in defeat, Even turned to Ansem. "Would you happen to have faced this problem and developed a solution?" he asked. He had devoted himself to repairing the files on his own, but by this point his ego had been bruised to the point where he was finally willing to branch out for assistance.

Ansem stroked his short beard in contemplation. "I do believe that such errors ring familiar," he admitted, before shaking his head dejectedly. "But alas, my memory is still a blur. Some things I remember, some I cannot, while others come and go. I am afraid that this is one such challenge that I cannot overcome on my own, with my current state of mind."

Even groaned and pulled down under his eyelids. "Of course the forces of Kingdom Hearts would have that sort of humor," he muttered. "Can it not see that an application of your knowledge would prove beneficial to those under its eyes?"

Ansem let out a chuckle. Even turned to face him, bewildered. "What is it?" he demanded.

"I don't quite know. I may not remember you or the others completely, but your outbursts at the failure of your 'pure genius' experiments twinge deep in my heart," the older man replied. "Another thing this also brings to memory: when conventional studies fail, it helps to think outside of the box. You might find your answer in the strangest of places."

Even breathed a short laugh. "That brings back memories as well," he mused. "You were always there with a word of wisdom, even when things seemed bleak, or we did not want to hear it. Especially when we did not want to hear it."

The scientists shared a brief laugh. After a moment, Even raised his eyebrow as something occurred to him. "Well, perhaps I should check the remaining files, in case my programs did serve to repair even a small amount of the corruption," he decided before scrolling through the list of files.

In the castle library, Shera walked down the rows of bookshelves, running her finger along the spines of books. She stopped when she saw a title that piqued her interest and pulled it off of the shelf to examine the cover.

"Well, fancy seeing you here," a voice said. Shera turned to see Ienzo standing at the end of the aisle near the bottom of the stairs. "What brings you here?"

Shera smiled. "Oh, hello, just looking for some light reading," she replied, holding up the book that she had drawn. "A little something for tea time. What about you?"

"I'm trying to find something that might tell me about the crystal that Zeromast had. The one that caused Aeleus' axe sword to disintegrate," Ienzo explained.

Shera nodded. "It was unnerving to hear about that. Any luck?"

Ienzo shook his head. "None yet. I've been combing through whatever writings I could find on magical artifacts and crystology, but it seems none of those scholars have come across such a gem. Then again, I suppose that if something of such power has fallen into mainstream research, it would have been exploited quite a bit throughout history."

"Of course. And there's also the possibility that it was from another world."

"That I cannot determine based on our knowledge of this Zeromast, which just so happens to be next to nothing."

"He could also be in possession of the only text on the subject."

"Which leads us right back to that other mystery," Ienzo said, sighing.

"Still can't repair the files?"

"Afraid not."

Shera clicked her tongue in disappointment, and the conversation trailed off. She opened her book and skimmed the preface and first few pages, then closed it and put it under her arm. She glanced back up at the bookshelf to find another book to read, but she stopped and turned back to Ienzo.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked

"I don't see any problem with that," he replied.

"What was it like being a Nobody?"

Ienzo cocked his head to the side. "Why do you… Oh. You never developed a Nobody, did you?"

Shera shook her head sadly. "No, I didn't. The last thing I remember was being smothered with the Shadow creatures, and everything after that was a swirling, indecipherable haze, an unshifting nothing for a really long time. I didn't even have any sense of time. I didn't have a sense of anything at all. From what I've been told, if your heart is especially strong enough that your body and soul create a Nobody, your primary consciousness continues on in the Nobody, with all of your memories intact. But I… I never had any of that."

Ienzo shook his head. "I'm not sure if I should pity or envy you. Of course, if you had formed a Nobody, you most likely would have become a Dusk or something, and I never really understood the human condition of the Nobodies that did not retain human appearance."

"What was it like for you?" Shera reiterated.

There was a pause as Ienzo gathered his thoughts. "Can you imagine a state of being that is about the same as normal human activity, but nothing provokes an emotional reaction? Everything else is normal, but you can't feel anything around you. You can think, you can remember, you know what it is to feel, but you feel nothing. You just feel empty. Nothing provokes more than the plainest, most basic reaction. You just 'exist', but it is a state of being that so contradicts what you think you know about yourself that you start to question even that."

"That sounds scary," Shera replied.

"That's the thing. We couldn't even be scared. We couldn't feel sad about it. We couldn't feel anything. Just… just… beh," Ienzo said, unable to properly define the situation.

"How did you deal with it?" Shera asked.

"We settled on a purpose. Something to give us a reason to keep going, and something to do instead of just sitting around doing nothing."

"Getting your hearts back," Shera guessed.

Ienzo nodded. "It seemed a logical enough idea. It was actually Xemnas' suggestion. Go figure."

"Did you know that the Organization was hurting others in their mission?"

"Some of us noticed, but in the state we were in we didn't care. Perhaps I felt a twinge of something, but I didn't know what it was. I'm not sure that I had developed enough of a heart to feel any guilt over my actions. I probably would have had to have built up some sort of connection with individuals outside of the Organization to feel anything toward them."

There was a pause as Shera tried to think of a way to respond. "I'm sorry," she finally said, "for what you had to go through."

Ienzo nodded. "I am also sorry, for my role in what happened to this world, and to you."

Shera shook her head. "Don't blame yourself. You were just a boy," she protested.

"I still participated in the experiments, those twisted, cruel experiments. I conducted them with as much knowledge and culpability as my colleagues. Xehanort may have led us into performing them behind Ansem's back, but we all chose to do so. I was the one who advised Ansem to construct the laboratory where we did so, the containment cells and hidden research facility below the manufactory. And for what? A pursuit of knowledge? A nagging curiosity? Some other ambition?

Shera put her hand on Ienzo's shoulder comfortingly. "I don't blame you, Ienzo. I don't think Ansem would either, if he still remembered," she said. "What's done is done, and it's in the past. We are all human again, and you're out from under Xehanort's thumb. What we do from now on is up to us."

Ienzo nodded. "Thank you," he replied.

The blacksmith stopped hammering at the heated steel when he heard the door open. Putting his materials down safely, he stepped out of the workshop and appeared up front to greet the prospective customer. When he saw who it was, he rubbed the ash out of his fire-and-soot-blackened face to make sure he was seeing things right.

"Lali-ho! Do me old eyes deceive me? Is that really Aeleus?" the bearded blacksmith asked with a grizzled voice.

Aeleus nodded. "Hello, Giott. It has been far too long," he greeted.

Giott laughed heartily. "You could say that again, my friend. How has that Skysplitter been treating you?"

"It has served me well, thank you," Aeleus replied.

Giott blinked in shock. "Hold, friend. Served? As in the past tense?"

"Afraid so. It was destroyed in a recent battle."

"Bah! I was certain that it would withstand almost any fearsome force! What sort of monstrous blow pushed it to its limit?"

Aeleus shook his head. "Nothing of the sort. It suffered from the destructive magic contained in a cursed gem. It was reduced to nothing at a touch."

Giott shook his head. "I see. How unfortunate. I fear there is nothing I can do to ensure that does not happen again. Sorcerous resilience is not one of my specialties. Magic and I don't really go well together."

"I understand. Could you perhaps construct a new axe sword for me?"

Giott let out a hearty laugh. "I would be happy to! But you know that such a job would take a month, correct?"

"I am known for my patience, or so I am told. Viking should suffice as an arm in the interim."

"You won't be throwing boulders larger than your biceps with that hunk of steel," Giott scoffed. "That Ansem never put me to the test, only asking for simple arms of stainless steel."

"I can imagine that Master Ansem would not have wanted the castle to be destroyed with an earthquake whenever I incapacitated an intruder," Aeleus argued.

Giott snorted. "True enough. Tell you what. I am in the process of working on a weapon just as great as Skysplitter. I'll have it done within two weeks. Come back a fortnight from now, and I'll let you have it."

Aeleus nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Giott." With his business concluded, he turned around and exited the shop. Giott returned to the workshop and proceeded to reheat and shape the metal that would become a sword, eager to finish this commission so that he may return his attention to forging the new axe sword.

In the Restoration Committee's training grounds, clashing metal and heavy breathing could be heard as a sparring match went on between Leon, Yuffie, and Lea. Leon chose to attack at close range, having already determined that shooting fireballs was useless against the flame-throwing assassin. Yuffie, as usual, kept at a distance, throwing her shurikens at both of her rivals and teleporting in puffs of smoke to avoid punishment. Lea, however, was skilled in both close- and long-range attacks, and his twin chakrams and mastery over fire allowed him to cover both fields at the same time.

Aware that he could not keep Leon at bay for long, Lea held tight to one chakram and used it to block Leon's Gunblade attacks and deal his own strikes while he threw the other one around, sometimes with and sometimes without flames, to attack Yuffie. Since he was her primary threat at the moment, Yuffie directed the majority of her attacks on Lea, although some of her shurikens still went toward Squall.

"Come here, I'll make it all stop!" Lea taunted seconds before he conjured a pillar of flame around himself. Leon jumped back to avoid getting caught in the blaze. When the fire died down, Leon threw himself onto the offensive, dealing several rapid slashes that forced Lea onto the defensive. As he was forced to use both chakrams to hold back Leon's attacks, Lea was left vulnerable to Yuffie's shurikens, and the slicing stars made it harder for him to stand up against Leon's strikes.

Lea chuckled. "Now that's more like it!" He started to build up power, which he released in radial fire bursts when Leon was on the recoil from an attack. This knocked Leon back a few feet, and Lea returned to the offensive. "Burn, baby!" he shouted as he threw one flaming chakram at Leon and the other one at Yuffie. He caught both weapons when they returned and lunged at Yuffie with a trail of fire behind him, then knocked the ninja down with a spinning attack. Yuffie groaned and clutched her side as she fell on her rear. Lea then threw a flaming chakram at Leon, who deflected it with his Gunblade. However, this left him vulnerable as Lea launched himself at him, enveloped in flames, and struck him hard enough to send him flying back into the wall.

Laughing triumphantly, Lea calmed down and dismissed his weapons, willing the fires he left behind to die down. Yuffie stood up and focused her chi into restoring her vitality, healing her burns and scrapes. When she was well enough to walk, she ran over to retrieve a Hi-Potion, which she then brought over to Leon for him to drink and restore his own energy.

When he could stand, Leon's gaze met Lea's and he smiled, impressed. "That was a good round," he said.

Lea let out a laugh. "I got that memorized! You almost had me there for a minute," he replied. He walked over to Leon and Yuffie. "I'll admit, it's good to spar with you guys. It's better than dealing with Xaldin or Xigbar. Don't tell Dilan I said that."

"Well, in the Restoration Committee, we need to strengthen our bonds with one another, and the defense patrol needs to keep in top shape," Leon clarified.

"He's also saying it was fun," Yuffie interjected, translating the Leon-compliment. "It's fun to have more people to train with, too. We don't usually get to go at it with other friends outside of the Coliseum cups."

Lea scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah. I guess you didn't have much of that in the last bunch of years if it was just you two on the front lines."

Leon shook his head. "We sometimes trained with Aerith, but it's not quite the same," he admitted.

"Not that that's a bad thing," Lea argued. "You two work really well together."

Yuffie giggled. "Thanks! But you know what would be really fun?"

"What?" Lea asked.

Yuffie put her fists up, mimicking a boxer. "Buddy duo versus buddy duo!" Lea looked at her in confusion. "I mean you and Isa," she clarified. Lea looked away nervously, causing Yuffie to give a pout. "Oh, come on! He never hangs out with us!"

"Isa's not really opening up," Lea said semi-defensively.

"He's your friend," Leon argued. "Or, he was, anyway. You should try to get through to him."

"I'm trying, but every time I try to start a conversation… And I want to press so we get somewhere, but…"

Yuffie leaned in and angled her head to look straight into his eyes. "But what?"

Lea shook his head. "I dunno. I feel guilty and just give up. I feel like… I feel like I let him get like that. I feel like I let him become Saïx."

Yuffie stood up straight and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Lea sighed. "When Xemnas was getting into his head, and he was becoming colder, we drifted apart. He blamed me, saying I changed, and whether he was right or wrong, our friendship deteriorated. But I feel like I could have done something. I guess it's all in hindsight colored by the fact that I now know that we could have grown our hearts back. If I hadn't given up on him, maybe I could have helped him get his back, and he wouldn't have gone down that road."

Leon crossed his arms and closed his eyes, thinking of his own lingering guilt. Yuffie turned to get him to say something helpful, and noticed his expression. She looked back and forth from Lea to Leon. "You know, you two are starting to look a lot alike," she commented.

Leon and Lea looked at each other, wondering what she was talking about. Leon decided to ignore her. He looked Lea straight in the eye. "What happened is in the past. Here, now, you have a chance to fix things," he advised. "Talk to Isa. No one ever said fixing broken bonds would be easy. But if anyone can do it, it's you." He then smirked and tapped his temple with one finger. "Got it memorized?"

Lea let out a laugh, accompanied by a giggle from Yuffie. "Thanks, Leon," he replied. His grin then turned into a contemplative expression. "You know, I may be remembering from years ago, but I thought your name was Squall. What was that about?"

Leon's smile faded, and he began to walk away. "Another time," he said curtly. Lea stared after him in confusion while Yuffie gaped in disbelief.

It was dinnertime for the prison inmates. The main population gathered in the cafeteria to get their meals. However, those with special dietary needs remained in their cells to await guards to bring them trays with suitable meals, assuming that the meal processed in the kitchen was unsuitable for them, before they could join the others in the cafeteria.

Isa was on call to deliver a gluten-free meal to Braig's cell. He walked down the cellblock hallway, hearing a few rude jeers from some of the more rowdy prisoners, the sound of metal-on-metal as some guards rattled their clubs between the cell bars to order the prisoners to quiet down, and dripping water from eroded sections of the foundation. Ignoring each of these, he continued his trek.

When he reached Braig's cell and turned to look into the scoundrel's eye, he was shocked by a disconcerting sight. Inside the cell, he could see a bed with an iron frame and a simple mattress and a toilet, but no occupant. He glanced upward in case Braig was simply playing a dumb joke and was actually holding himself to the ceiling. However, he was not there either.

Dropping the dinner tray, he fumbled for his keys and opened the cell door, then went in and searched every inch for some trick that would either prove that Braig had not gone anywhere or explain where he could be. To his dismay, there was no such revealing clue, and it appeared for all intents and purposes that the Freeshooter really was gone.

He ran back out into the hall and located the nearest guard. "We have a situation," he said in a tone that indicated absolute urgency.

"What's the problem?" the guard asked.

"Braig is nowhere to be found."

The guard's eyes widened in horror and he ran back to the cell with Isa to verify. He raised his walkie-talkie up to his mouth. "We need to lock down the prison!" he shouted into the radio device. "Prisoner 213568 has escaped!"

Moments later, this was followed by the blaring noise of alarms going off. The remaining prisoners in the cellblock grumbled as they were forced back into their cells to eat their dinner.

Isa and the guards ran up to the control station to assess the situation and begin the search of the prison grounds for the escapee.