And after that nice glimpse of the past, it is time to return to the present. Starting with a character that I know everyone is eager to see. And maybe another character that you were less prepared for.

There were a few facts that Vanitas was quite aware of as he hurried through the Realm of Darkness, snarling in frustration. None of these facts were improving his day.

First, Heartless sought out the darkness in people's hearts. They would try to steal those hearts and that darkness would become a new Heartless. But people with enough darkness and the strength of heart not to be overwhelmed by it could learn to control and command the Heartless. A task that was dangerous for most people since the creatures could turn on them, but it was an achievable path towards power.

Unfortunately, despite having a heart of pure darkness, Vanitas could not actually command the Heartless. Perhaps someone was only capable of commanding one type of creature born from some form of darkness and he was stuck with the Unversed instead. It wasn't like Xemnas ever directed anything other than Nobodies when Vanitas had glimpsed him. But since Vanitas's heart couldn't submit more to darkness even if he tried, the Heartless should theoretically have no interest in him. He probably felt like another Heartless to them.

Considering that he was Ventus's darkness, it was probably close enough.

Except there was one other fact about Heartless to consider. They tended to be drawn towards Keyblade wielders. And while Vanitas's dark heart might confuse them, it was currently carrying the broken fragments of Sora's heart in its depths. The kid was practically catnip for Heartless.

None of this would really matter except for one final fact that made this attempt to navigate the Realm of Darkness and find a way to help Sora even more frustrating and difficult.

Apparently, unlike Ventus, shattering his heart and needing over a decade to recover meant that Vanitas no longer had a freaking Keyblade.

Vanitas ducked out of reach of a Neoshadow. A Buckle Bruiser materialized to drive it back. Floods or Scrappers were enough to counter Shadows, but a Neoshadow needed something stronger. More aggressive emotions. And his Unversed were currently his only defense.

On some level, he understood what was wrong. A Keyblade might change if someone's heart changed dramatically, evolving into something new. And very rarely, a Keyblade could break. It was absolutely possible to lose a Keyblade, though it wasn't something that happened casually.

Ventus shattered both of their hearts over a decade ago. But while he returned mostly the same as he was before his nap in Sora's heart, Vanitas knew that he was changed by the experience. He was different after a lifetime with the friendly and welcoming boy. He was still darkness, but the kind of darkness that he chose to be rather than what Master Xehanort wanted him to be.

Even if Void Gear had somehow survived the destruction and reconstruction of his heart, was it that surprising that it no longer recognized Vanitas? It would have been even stranger if it remained, as if nothing had changed with him. He and his heart had gone through too much to be who he was before.

That didn't mean that he wasn't angry about the situation.

This wasn't what he wanted. He wanted the calm, protective, and soothing darkness that welcomed him. He wanted that peace. For the first time, he physically existed as his own person and didn't feel the pain of the ragged bleeding edges of where he was torn from Ventus, the harshness of the Realm of Light scorching at those invisible unhealing wounds. That pain was gone; finally healed from the separation the same way that Sora healed Ventus's heart with his own light. Vanitas wanted to finally rest now that he felt whole without the need of his other half.

Instead, he was dodging Heartless across a shadowy and inhospitable landscape. Scrambling up ledges, leaping between platforms, and trying not to resort to punching Shadows in the face. All because of a few fragments of Sora hidden in his heart. Fragments that he refused to allow to fade away completely.

My, how the tables had turned.

He needed to get Sora's shattered heart out of there. Not merely because of the way that his presence drew in the Heartless. He wasn't meant for the Realm of Darkness. It didn't welcome and sooth him like it did Vanitas. It would snuff out the boy's light and swallow him.

Vanitas refused to let that happen. He owed Sora too much. He'd saved Vanitas by sheltering his broken pieces in his heart alongside Ventus, even if he didn't realize it. And then he'd showed Vanitas everything that Master Xehanort denied him. Sora allowed him to be more than a weapon and to want more in his existence.

Darkness was allowed to be greedy and selfish. Vanitas wanted all of those things that Sora had and treasured so strongly. Freedom, the chance to explore various worlds, family, people who cared, a home. He would find those things for himself and keep them no matter what might try to take them away. He would have all of them out of spite of what Master Xehanrot wanted him to be.

He wouldn't surrender anything that belonged to him. And that included losing Sora. He refused to allow it.

Besides, he didn't like the idea of owing a debt.

If that meant fighting every Heartless in the Realm of Darkness in order to drag Sora to someone in the Realm of Light who might be able to fix him, then so be it. But it would be much easier with a Keyblade. It hurt when his Unversed were destroyed.

He didn't know where he was going. He didn't know where he actually was beyond the Realm of Darkness. So far, his usual attempts to travel via darkness kept dumping him out in random places that were still within the Realm of Darkness, including some type of canyon and a far darker beach than where Sora called home. Apparently spending years as a barely sentient collection of broken fragments did not help a person's navigation skills. He'd stopped trying to reach the Realm of Light that way after he landed in a swamp.

Currently, Vanitas was leaping between ledges of what looked like tall and narrow rock towers with tiny bits of blue glowing crystal chunks scattered in them. The ledges sometimes looked like more stone, but other times was a blue-green spongey material that could bounce him higher. But the heights didn't seem to discourage the Heartless.

"Don't suppose you could share that gliding trick, could you?" he muttered as two more Archravens formed to drive the Darkball away.

And as he expected, Sora's heart fragments remained uselessly silent. Not even a single clue about what to do.

Vanitas would have to take care of himself. Like always. Not like he'd had anyone to help him before. The very idea would have been impossible to imagine before spending twelve years in Sora's heart and glimpsing his drastically different life. Family, friends, and mentors always willing to lend a helping hand. Offering to help someone wasn't seen as foolish sentiment that would certainly lead to betrayal. And accepting it wasn't seen as weakness from Sora.

Once again, he felt vindictive pleasure knowing that Master Xehanort was finally dead. It felt good beating his smug face in.

Still smirking over the memory of possessing Sora's body to actually fight the old man, Vanitas leapt across another wide gap. Except as soon as he landed on the edge, something materialized directly in front of him. He only got a fleeting impression of it— a dark muscular humanoid with a heart-shaped hole in the torso, tall purple horns, wings, a bladed tail— before it swung its scalloped blue-blade sword and caught him in the middle. The Heartless, an Invisible, knocked him flying back.

Over the edge and falling down towards a dark chasm below.

Vanitas snarled as he regained his breath, twisting and trying to regain some control of his plummeting. Except that he hit a thin spire of stone hard enough to break through it and keep falling. More pain, more disorientation, and even less ability to save himself. No Keyblade and stuck with rusty abilities that he hadn't used in ages. He couldn't stop his fall, but he managed to turn a deadly crash into a slightly less damaging impact that sent him tumbling. Though still with an explosion of pain everywhere that consumed him as he hit and rolled roughly before coming to a stop on his back. But he didn't black out or immediately die.

Not bad considering the heights involved.

When the Realm of Darkness stopped spinning as much, Vanitas took a quick assessment of his condition. No broken bones. Which was good because he didn't know if being able to recreate his body from pure darkness meant that he could use it to heal his body too. His helm had shattered from the crash. Again. And his head pounded horribly while his body ached in a way that promised that moving would be awful. He didn't have any potions to take the edge off, so he was stuck with that pain.

In summary, Vanitas should be able to manage. It should barely slow him down. Master Xehanort would have scoffed at him for taking even this long to jump to his feet during training, but the old man deserved to rot.

Vanitas pushed himself back upright, not even dignifying the flashes of pain with a groan or a wince. It wasn't like he could do anything about the forming bruises anyway. And he was familiar with pain. Though he didn't appreciate how unsteady that he felt on his feet. The slight stumble was a sign of weakness that he didn't like showing.

Moving his head slowly to avoid agitating his pounding head, Vanitas tried to take in his new surroundings. Shadows high above disguised the towering stone structures. He'd fallen too far to see where he'd come from originally. What he could see was the high walls that surrounded him like he was standing at the bottom of a giant bowl. Or in a natural arena. Slightly sloped where the walls met the ground before they grew too steep to continue. The dark stone walls were lined with thin veins of those same blue crystals. But more importantly, those walls were too sheer for him to scale and too high to jump. And there were no ledges or crevices that he could use to escape.

As Vanitas vaguely wondered if he would be able to concentrate enough on the right emotional combination to produce a Vile Phial to try healing him, he abruptly stumbled again. And realized that his balance issues weren't solely from his head injury. There was an impact to the ground that made it shake slightly beneath his feet. Like from something incredibly large stepping towards him.

Already knowing that he would hate what he'd find, Vanitas turned around to face it.

The massive, black, muscular, and humanoid Heartless towered over him. Comparatively shorter legs and thin feet, but with long and powerful arms. A pair of tiny, twisted wings were attached to its back, far too small to be of any use. A large heart-shaped hole in its abdomen, punching all the way through its body. Most of its head was covered in dozens of twisted black tentacles like a patch of tangled bramble. Only the small yellow eyes peering through could be seen.

Glaring up at the Darkside, Vanitas growled, "Are you serious?" But, lacking any other options, he pulled up his strongest moments of rage and desperation, snarling, "Fine. Show me anguish!"

The pair of Tank Toppers that he materialized rolled towards the Heartless while the Buckle Bruiser stayed back with him for the moment. Naturally, the Darkside swiped at them. Which led to it stumbling backwards a step when they detonated. This time, Vanitas couldn't help snarling in pain. The destruction always hurt, but right now it was taking strength that he didn't have to spare. Not after his previous encounters fending off Heartless and then his fall. No more self-destructing Unversed then, even if they did manage to harm the creature.

And it wasn't like he could escape this time. There was nowhere to run. Vanitas was going to need to defeat the powerful Heartless while in the Realm of Darkness, which only made them more powerful, while limited only to using his Unversed and trying not to have them destroyed painfully in the process. Not to mention the potential concussion since it still felt like something trying to beat through his skull with a hammer.

Nothing like a challenge to keep things interesting.

Vanitas materialized Axe Flappers and Archravens to distract and confuse the Darkside. Slice and diving at its head to keep it from focusing on Vanitas or the Buckle Bruiser. That particular Unversed served as the muscle for the match. Its shields could block and deflect, but it could also throw them to attack from a distance. Keeping out of range and protecting itself when the Heartless sent dark homing strikes from the opening in its body or rained them down from the orb of darkness that it pulled into existence. Cautiously and carefully whittling away at an opponent might not be his usual style; Vanitas preferred speed and brutality. But it was proving effective.

Until the Darkside slammed its fist to the ground and Neoshadows spawned out of the pooling darkness instead of Shadows.

And then he noticed the dark flames around the Buckle Bruiser too late to stop the Invisible from stealthily destroying it, making Vanitas gasp and stumble from the painful loss.

Then the other Unversed were picked off by the rest of the arriving packs of Invisibles. Each sharp destruction leaving him more and more worn out. It wasn't usually that bad except the pain and flood of the returning emotions, but he was not at his best already. He could barely focus with his throbbing head. He certainly couldn't create any more.

Soon Vanitas found himself trapped with his back against the wall. Alone against the looming Darkside, the pack of Invisibles, and the small swarm of Neoshadows. All of them ravenous for the broken and fragmented thing tucked inside him.

The tiny glimmers of light hidden and sheltered within his darkness.

Vanitas glared defiantly at all of them and shouted, "Forget it. There's no way you're taking Sora's heart!"

Hands tightened into fists, preparing to go down swinging. Death never scared him anyway. Three of the Neoshadows leapt for him at once—

—except a huge flare of darkness sent all of the Heartless flying back several feet. And a sturdy weight rested in Vanitas's grip.

It wasn't Void Gear. He knew that immediately. Void Gear was larger, heavier, and bulkier. And despite everything, Void Gear had been a Keyblade of Light. What Vanitas held was certainly not that.

The handle and most of the blade were both black. At the bottom of the handle were two sharp spikes right above the pommel, curving over where his hand gripped until they nearly met the larger two red spikes of the guard that curved down. The long blade was mostly black, but there was a inlaid design that ran the length of it. Starting as red near the hilt and shifting toward purple towards the end. The tip consisted of a trio of small purple points. And the teeth of the Keyblade consisted of a dark purple Unversed emblem turned sideways in a way that strongly resembled an axe-head.

No gears. No chains. No judgemental eyes staring from it. The Keyblade of Darkness in his hand—

—Sentimental Shadow—

—didn't share many traits with his old Keyblade. But it was long, it was strong, and it was an actual weapon. Vanitas certainly wasn't going to be complain about being armed finally.

"All right," he said, taunting the recovering Heartless. "Which one of you wants to be destroyed first?"

His headache and battered body stubbornly ignored, Vanitas rushed towards the closest Neoshadow. A quick slash followed by a spinning slash that made his head swim, though it also drove the Heartless back. And then a final slash that sent a crescent-shaped blade of darkness to destroy it and two other Neoshadows.

An Invisible tried to drive its sword through Vanitas, but the blade passed straight through the afterimage as he dropped from above to shatter the creature. He twisted around to block another one before jumping up to unleash a Dark Thundaga. Lightning raced out in an almost fan-shaped assault. The arch cleared more away.

Vanitas warped above another clump of Neoshadows and swung down hard as an icicle burst out of the ground to hit them. More Heartless shattered as he laughed. He warped to the side of another Invisible and slashed several times in a blinding combo.

When the Darkside tried to rain down its dark projectiles, Vanitas dove into the ground as a shadow. He slid across the battlefield untouched until he sprang out to ambush the last of the Invisibles. It didn't stand a chance. He sent a Dark Firaga to thin out the Neoshadows further. But he knew those would keep coming back as long as the Darkside remained.

"I'm done with you," he snarled.

Leaping up, Vanitas unleashed a vicious combo on the closest hand before sending another Dark Thundaga at point-blank range. And between that and the damage that his Unversed already inflicted, the Darkside fell and dissolved away as it hit the ground.

Vanitas remained on alert for a few moments more, but nothing happened. The threat had been eliminated. He slowly lowered his new Keyblade and let it dematerialize in a dark flash. Breathing hard, he still managed to smirk.

"Is that the best you've got? No wonder Aqua survived this place."

Of course, with the fight over, his injuries were making themselves known again. And his acrobatics hadn't done him any favors. His head felt like it was splitting in two. His body throbbed and screamed at him. He'd experienced worse pain before, but it was still a lot for someone who hadn't physically existed in over a decade.

At least his heart didn't hurt. That constant pain from when Master Xehanort tore him from Ventus hadn't returned since…

Since when? Since their arrival in the deepest abyss of the Realm of Darkness? Or maybe since he finally fully healed in Sora's heart?

It didn't matter. One less issue to worry about. He needed to focus on getting out. Sora needed help and Vanitas wasn't that eager for another round against the local Heartless population, even with his new Keyblade.

"When I was stuck in your heart," he muttered tiredly, "I did try to pull my weight eventually. And I'm doing this all for you." Shrugging and ignoring the complaints from his muscles at the act, Vanitas said, "Of course, I couldn't do much before I started recovering. So I can't blame you too much with your current state—"

Vanitas flinched as something inside him flashed brightly for a second. Apparently those tiny fragments of Sora's heart decided to make themselves known. That was more than he expected.

And then he flinched again as a bright light blinded him. A thin line of light gradually growing wider like an invisible door opening in the middle of an empty space. Vanitas took a step back, trying to shield his eyes. He didn't think his headache could get worse, but now it felt like someone stabbed him in the eyes with a couple of spikes before driving two more into his temples for good measure.

"Is this you?" he hissed, fighting down nausea that made him almost certain now that he had a concussion. "If you could get us out, then why didn't you do it sooner?"

Unsurprisingly, there was no response. Vanitas was only left with a bright rectangle of light. An open doorway between realms. And since he didn't know how long it would stay open, he couldn't afford to waste the opportunity.

"Fine," said Vanitas, practically grumbling out the tired words. "But after I dump you somewhere safe, I'm going back to that dark abyss. Maybe without you acting like Heartless bait, I'll be able to actually enjoy it."

Not giving him any more time to second-guess himself, Vanitas staggered a few steps through the door to light.

Understanding other people had always felt impossible. Truly understanding them. Every person, every heart, held an entire world that no one else could explore. That meant that no one would see things the same way that anyone else. Every world was isolated and built on its own rules incomprehensible to another. Every person was similarly impossible to know. That had been the truth for as long as he could remember. There was no point trying to understand other people because it was doomed from the start.

And there was even less of a chance of understanding humanity when he was no longer truly a member.

He was born Yoshiya Kiryu, though the name of Joshua had always felt more right. But that had been a very, very, very long time ago. The isolated and disconnected child who could see more than he should. Not merely the world of the living, the Realground. The Underground, a place on a higher frequency filled with the Players and the Reapers that overlaid the Realground. He could even glimpse the Noise that were sandwiched between the two planes. That awareness had only served to isolate him further, making other people even harder to understand. Was it hard to believe that he would fail to see any worth in returning to the RG when he had the chance to leave it behind?

A Player could try to return to life, their Souls and their Imaginations being tempered by the experience like iron held in a flame, or they could become a Reaper. Even those with more Imagination who didn't win the Game were often offered the role if they were impressive enough and managed to at least survive. Reapers could climb the ranks. Some becoming Officers, occasionally serving as Game Master for a week. And perhaps they could even become the Conductor running the entire Game.

And then there was the Composer. The most powerful force in the UG. Completely detached from humanity to the point of only being known to the Conductor and the Producer. Once human, but now something more. Essentially the intermediary between their specific corner of the UG and the Higher Plane. Joshua had shed his humanity long ago, becoming an Angel.

Not all Angels were former humans. Or perhaps the change happened so long ago that not even an echo remained of who they once were. They existed on such a high frequency that no human, living or not, could comprehend them. Even down-tuning enough to deal with the RG, weakening their abilities and nearly blinding their senses, generally could not hide the way that they did not belong. Most Angels could no longer… see the world and the people like a human might.

Becoming an Angel should have stopped the feeling of isolation. He thought it would. The Higher Plane's natural state was a unification of minds. They operated under a web of social schema to guide their activities. Joshua should have been able to understand them as he never could when it came to other people.

Except even then, he'd felt a sense of disconnect. And as a Composer, while there was nothing more powerful than him within Shibuya, he was among the weakest of the Angels. Barely one at all. All the better to operate on the lower frequency of the UG and RG that were his responsibility. He was almost in a gray area between Angel and Reaper, belonging to neither.

Time passed. Only truly interacting with his Conductor and the Producer, an Angel by the name of Sanae Hanekoma that he'd already met in his more ignorant days of being human. But that was to be expected. For a Composer, the Producer was his only connection to Higher Planes just like Conductor was his only connection to other Reapers. He wasn't supposed to risk interacting with too many people. A Composer's high-vibes placed physical and psychological stress on people. He was just as isolated as ever.

Hanekoma did as much as he could. But no matter how the older and more powerful Angel tried to help, Joshua had grown bitter, frustrated, and tired. Of the Players. Of humanity. Of the sheer stagnation and complacency. Of the pettiness, aggression, apathy, selfish desires, and everything.

Shibuya itself grew. Just as it had before Joshua taken over. That's what the world did. Villages combining together, becoming a town, being swallowed up by the growing city. The Music of Shibuya built up as the Imagination and life within his territory flourished. And yet, it had felt like nothing changed at all. He'd only saw the Noise that the people caused and the discordant notes of the sympathy. He hadn't been able to see anything truly worthwhile. Nothing really improving. Nothing worth preserving.

But the problem had not been Shibuya. It had been himself. He would have been surrounded by Noise if he'd been truly part of the RG still. Joshua had been lonely to an agonizing degree that colored all of his experiences. He hadn't been able to recognize it at the time, but he could admit it now. At least to himself.

Joshua had reached his breaking point back then, deciding that Shibuya was beyond saving. He'd wanted to wipe out every trace of it and perhaps even himself. And that had led to a Game between himself and his Conductor for the fate of Shibuya. Joshua chose his Proxy, a teenage boy with a powerful Imagination who seemed to embody everything that was wrong with the city.

Neku Sakuraba.

The Game never went right from the moment that Neku had become a Player. He had seemed like the perfect choice on the surface, surviving the weeks and refusing to let himself be Erased. But he changed. He reached out. His heart opened and his world expanded. He connected. He saw past the loud, crowded, and frustrating masses that he'd wanted nothing to do with before. He learned to empathize, to trust, and to enjoy the moment. He saw Shibuya with new eyes.

And Joshua had started glimpsing his city through Neku's eyes. Watching his views change over their short partnership.

He lied, tricked, manipulated, and even murdered Neku. Joshua had given him every reason to hate him. To go back to being the person that he started the Game as and to lash out. And then he had given Neku a weapon and asked him to become the new Composer. To kill Joshua or let Shibuya be destroyed.

Regardless of how he chose to respond, Joshua had known that he would win. Either he would be gone or the city would be. But he'd known what Neku would choose. Joshua had given him enough reason to pull the trigger. And he wouldn't have stopped the bullet that time.

Megumi Kitaniji, his Conductor, had imprinted all the people of Shibuya to remove their individuality in order to save the physical city. Hanekoma betrayed Joshua in order to try saving the people from his plan should the worst come to pass. But Neku was the only one who chose Joshua over Shibuya, trusting him enough not to shoot even knowing that he and the city wouldn't survive the decision.

And for the first time in his long existence, Joshua had felt the connection that his heart always ached for. He'd felt seen and understood.

Despite everything, Neku truly was his friend.

Joshua hadn't destroyed Shibuya. How could he? Neku, the person who practically personified the city's stagnation and flaws, had changed. He'd let his world grow beyond his previous borders, clashing against the edges of others, changing from it, and coming to understand them a little more. Proving that if Neku could change, then Shibuya was not beyond all hope.

And more than that, Neku represented what Joshua had truly been missing and needing for so long. Joshua relieved his loneliness by opening his heart and letting someone in before he'd even realized what was happening. When he pulled the trigger that last time, he also discovered that Neku was not the only one who had changed during the course of the Game.

He honestly couldn't say which of them truly won and which of them lost. Joshua pulled the trigger while Neku refused, but it felt more like Neku made the winning move. Shibuya's fate was decided.

Neku returned to the RG. Others returned to their previous lives. Shiki, Beat, and even Rhyme despite her being Erased, though the entry fee of her dreams remained forfeit. There were still rules. She would have to find a new dream. Joshua didn't technically have to restore the others. But Neku cared about them and…

And Joshua cared about Neku. He gave his Proxy back his friends. Joshua wanted his friend to be happy, even if Neku would never forgive him.

For a little while, things had begun to settle. Neku and his friends remained in Shibuya. So close and yet so far despite the boy's invitation to join them, an invitation made without know if Joshua would receive the message. While there was no Conductor currently and most of the high-ranked Reapers were gone, Joshua was managing. He'd found a temporary Game Master who might earn other promotions depending on how she did. Minor adjustments were made to the rules for the Game. Despite Hanekoma's betrayal, Joshua managed to keep from losing his Producer; he was merely under temporary restrictions. The Music of Shibuya seemed stronger and brighter than before. Even the Higher Planes had seemed pleased with the outcome.

At least, they were for a little time. But nothing lasts forever. And that peaceful time didn't last long at all.

Joshua closed his eyes, the memories still strong and fresh even after the damage of that night was undone. It had been unsettling even for someone like him.

At first, they had thought the creatures were some kind of Noise. Perhaps especially dangerous ones, emerging from the shadows with glowing yellow eyes, but they assumed they were a rather familiar threat. Joshua's level of omniscience had its limits and they were something new to their world. He hadn't known the truth. He hadn't recognized the danger. There hadn't been time.

They realized that they weren't Noise when the living people of the RG saw the monsters. When they tried to run from them. When they were hunted down and killed by them.

No, not just killed. Joshua wasn't that concerned by death. He was surrounded by it constantly. It was a natural part of existence. Those with the will, Soul, and Imagination could fight for a second chance or preferably join the ranks of the Reapers. Anyone else would follow the normal path of death; their Soul dispersed throughout the rest of Shibuya to eventually become something new, because cognitive energy was still energy and never truly disappeared. Their hearts went where all hearts went in the end. There was a cycle and a natural order even in death.

But that wasn't what happened when the creatures attacked someone. Their hearts were consumed by darkness, creating more monsters in the same way that strong negative emotions beget more Noise. Their bodies vanished, leaving behind not a single trace. And their Souls did not scatter across Shibuya to help strengthen the city and the people who remained. That energy was lost. Everything about them was unnatural and wrong.

The sheer wrongness of their existence had made them horrifying. Which had only grown worse as Joshua saw them attacking everyone. Moving like a plague of locusts, consuming and destroying. It had taken almost no time to ravage Shibuya. The monsters were more like the Reapers, interacting with multiple planes at once. The people of the RG fell. Reapers fell. Players fell. They had even went after him, hungry and ruthless. Destroying them seemed to do nothing to reduce the numbers as they swarmed. Joshua could rain down his own power to burn them away, but even that had not slowed the flood. He'd tried to find Hanekoma, but there had been no sign of him and Joshua had wondered if even Angels could be taken by the creatures.

And it was not merely the people that had been threatened. He'd sensed the way his city started falling away, weakened and being harmed in a vital way. Darkness trying to take the heart of the entire world like it did the people.

The Music of Shibuya had shifted towards a broken and sickening melody that had terrified Joshua in a way that he couldn't describe. And then it had started falling silent. His city, his world, falling into darkness. And not even his power had been strong enough to save it.

Horrible irony when he'd once strove to destroy it.

Joshua hadn't had much time when everything was crumbling apart. He could risk fleeing to another reality, another worldline where everyone was safely playing Tin Pin Slammer instead of disappearing into the darkness. But he didn't. He couldn't lose everything. A part of him had rebelled against the idea. His lonely heart refused to give up what he'd just barely gained.

They had already been fading away when Joshua had found them. Because of course they had been together when the world was ending. They had sought out their friends, just like he did. He'd gathered up the fragments of the former Players. Pieces of who they used to be. It was all that he could try to save.

Rhyme. Beat. Shiki.

Neku.

Joshua had gathered what was left of them, the remnants of their Imagination and dreams, before oblivion could claim everything. He had honestly half-expected not to survive himself. That hadn't stopped him from attempting to save and protect what remained of them. But he had endured the loss of Shibuya and their world. Clinging on somehow. He had refused to submit to that hungry darkness. And with Rhyme's dreams, those that she forfeit as her entrance fee and could never reclaim, he'd managed to gain access. Creating a portal to find a sanctuary for them.

Not his best landing, practically crashing into the twin versions of the place and losing his grip on those precious fragments of his friends' dreams. But at least there had been no witnesses to it.

A new world built of the flotsam of other lost worlds, already bearing pieces of the destroyed Shibuya, even as its heart plunged into sleep.

Traverse Town.

He'd hoped that it would be a simple shelter from the destruction and cruel darkness. A place to lick his emotional wounds. But he didn't expect those scavenged dreams to take on physical form within the two versions of the sleeping world. He hadn't expected to see their faces and hear their voices again. And in the face of all that was lost when Shibuya was overrun by those monsters, four children lingering on in the form of their dreams was such a small thing. But it had been enough to keep his hope alive. A hope that perhaps he could somehow try restoring his friends' existence by piecing their dreams together.

Dreams weren't reality. Memories and time blurred, twisted, and stretched in unexpected ways within a dream. There was an internal logic all of its own. One that could rarely be understood when awake, but could smooth away inconsistencies and keep the dreamer content and unquestioning.

They'd thought that they were still Players. They'd believed that it was part of the Reapers' Game, not remembering that they'd already had their lives back. The logic of the dream meant that they had remembered Joshua, but did not question Shiki still being Neku's partner or still wearing her friend's face. They'd accepted the new surroundings, an unknown town that somehow incorporated pieces of CAT's graffiti, as another part of the Game without wondering how they arrived. They hadn't questioned the lack of Noise and merely adapted to the strange new creatures, Dream Eaters, without even blinking. And they'd never asked where the other Players might be, what day it was out of the seven, or why there weren't any visible Reapers lurking around.

None of them had remembered what happened to Shibuya. And Joshua had wanted to keep it that way.

Sending out missions to their cellphones under the guise of the Reapers was simple enough. It kept them busy, distracted, and accepting of what was happening. Giving Joshua more time to think, investigate, and learn about what existed far beyond their home world's borders. Such as the Heartless that first invaded Shibuya.

But properly gathering them together from where they'd been scattered was more difficult. The partners were split, landing in opposite versions of the dream Traverse Town. And they could be stubborn. It was like herding cats to keep them organized when they wanted to go off the rails.

And then Joshua had realized that they weren't alone. The black coat people had been troubling, promising the Players what they couldn't provide. Their missing partners… A way back home… All in exchange for the other strangers.

Sora. Riku.

Thinking about those two brought a faint smile to Joshua's face. They had been unexpected in all the best ways. And their Keyblades… Certainly more powerful than their appearance would suggest. He'd studied the boys with his sense and found them to be very unique.

The weapons resonated with their hearts in countless ways that affected every part of them. The way that they wielded Imagination, "magic," was impressive. Directing that power through the Keyblades vaguely similar to how Players would use their pins, but with far more versatility and power drawn from their Soul than Joshua would have expected from someone who wasn't a high-ranked Reaper. And there was something about the way the Keyblade that affected their hearts and the rest of them… They seemed to stretch across a much wider range of vibrations than they should have, rather like a Reaper. But without being dead or having the skills to directly up-or-down-tune their vibes. Joshua suspected that they would be able to affect both the RG and the UG if Traverse Town had such a thing. The Keyblade unlocked so much of their potential and yet they mostly used them to whack enemies.

Well, that and saving worlds from darkness.

Because that's what they did. Most of Shibuya would have been freed from the shadows when Sora apparently sealed the Door to Darkness, but enough fragments were tangled in the slumbering Traverse Town that it couldn't truly return. It remained scattered and incomplete. Until Sora and Riku unlocked the Sleeping Keyholes. Not a merely one for Traverse Town. Not even two, one for each half of the dreaming world. They'd needed to unlock the Sleeping Keyholes on both visits because they'd needed to awaken both Traverse Town itself and the pieces of Shibuya woven into it. And while it took some time to separate, it worked. Sora and Riku did it. They restored what was lost.

Joshua could take his friends home.

Most of Shibuya didn't realize what happened. The living humans, the Players, and even most of the Reapers didn't remember much about the events beyond what felt like a nightmare. Terrifying, but easy to brush aside in the morning and continue with their lives. Only a handful remembered that everyone and everything was swallowed by darkness.

Neku and his friends figured out the truth when they realized that they shared the same dram of destruction followed by their time in Traverse Town.

The Angels remembered everything that happened. And while they would never admit it directly, the experience scared them. It terrified entities that powerful to be brought down and to be utterly powerless to stop it. Falling into darkness with no escape. Nothing was supposed to be able to touch them, but the Heartless took their entire world away. Some even lost their own hearts for a time. It had been too long since they had been vulnerable in any way. And that unspoken fear came with the desire to have someone to blame.

Unfortunately, Joshua found himself as a perfect target. The Heartless first appeared in Shibuya and that was where they found access to the heart of the world, leading towards the collapse. And the hive mind aspect of the Higher Plane meant that they quickly united against the Composer in charge of it. They decided that Shibuya must have something inherently wrong with it in order to attract all of those dark creatures to it. They suggested that Joshua should have gone ahead with his previous plans to wipe Shibuya away in order to spare the rest of the world that fate.

Instead of seeing Shibuya as the ideal to strive for, they now referred to Joshua's decision to let it continue as its Impurification and the cause of their world's temporary destruction. And he ended up on thin ice. Leaving him needing to be cautious. They were watching him even more closely than they were Hanekoma. Bending any of the rules would not be treated leniently.

But, sitting up on top of the 104 building staring up at the stars now that the rainclouds had departed and listening to the Music of Shibuya, Joshua wouldn't change a thing. His city and his people kept growing, changing, pushing beyond their limits to become more than they were before, and thriving. The beat, rhythm, and melody of Shibuya thummed through him. Somewhere out there were Neku and his friends. All those connections and expanded borders. And even if he had to keep his distance and not interfere directly, Joshua was still allowed to be a small part of that.

By ourselves, we're no one. It's when other people look at us and see someone… That's the moment we each start to exist.

He wasn't alone anymore, even if he there was no one sitting next to him. People had seen him. Really seen him. Neku had seen him. Joshua was part of the hearts of others. And he'd finally welcomed them into his own. His world wasn't as closed off and lonely now. And that was worth everything that had happened.

His senses prickled, making him frown and climb to his feet. Something was coming. Something dark that reminded him of the Heartless, but not quite. But it was close enough for Joshua to be concerned and on alert.

Getting directly involved, working hard, and sweating wasn't really his style. And depending on the circumstances, could risk breaking the rules. But he would not allow Shibuya to disappear again.

Besides, he could manage a few loopholes if necessary. And after what happened last time, Joshua was fairly motivated.

He stretched out his senses across the entirety of Shibuya, trying to narrow it down. Trying to locate exactly where it was trying to slip into their world. And Joshua found himself looking up.

A bright twinkle like a star in the sky. And then a dark shape started falling. Frowning, Joshua manifested his wings and took to the air. And he threw out an illusion to conceal the falling shape from anyone in the RG. No one would notice him, living or Reaper. Not with how high his vibe was at the moment. Even the most sensitive Reaper would only see a bright adult-shaped figure that they couldn't look at directly. But it was the falling figure that needed concealment. The last thing that they needed was the living humans panicking and churning up a large swarm of Noise on top of everything else. He followed the plummeting shape with his eyes and angelic senses as it landed surprisingly gently in Scramble Crossing.

His powers diverting attention and the paths of the pedestrians from the crumpled figure sprawled on the rain-damp pavement, not an easy task considering that it was one of the busiest intersections in the world, Joshua landed lightly on the ground and immediately hid his wings. He preferred keeping them out of the way and out of sight. It was easier. But regardless of what it might feel like, it wasn't a Heartless that he found.

At first glance, it almost looked like a person. Albeit one wrapped in a skintight and almost organic material with no obvious seams. Black with red lines. Heavy boots. Some type of frayed half-skirt held in place by a red leather belt. Not the most common outfit, but Shibuya attracted all types. The wild spiky black hair almost seemed familiar, but not quite right. But it wasn't until Joshua used his foot to flip the new arrival over on his back and saw the face that he blinked in surprise.

"Huh…" Studying a little deeper with his more angelic senses and finding even more unexpected elements at play, he muttered, "You do seem to get into the most interesting messes. You broke yourself quite thoroughly this time, Sora, but we do owe you. I might need to consult a friend on how to help you without getting into more trouble with everyone on the Higher Plane. And I'll definitely want more information about who this guy is."

Designing Keyblades is a lot harder when you're not mostly recoloring an established one. Like how Kiru's Keyblade was a pastel version of Riku's old Way to Dawn Keyblade minus one creepy eye.

But Vanitas needed a new Keyblade since I'm trying to reduce the Master of Masters down to a single Gazing Eye. I was inspired by the Missing Ache Keyblade that originally showed up in "Chain of Memories." But more importantly, it was the Keyblade design that Ventus apparently had in "Union χ" in its upgraded form. I used that to influence Sentimental Shadow's design. The handle and guard were based on the original form of Missing Ache, the blade was influenced more on the next upgrade to the Keyblade since it had a bit more color, and the teeth were inspired by the Unversed emblem. And of course, I changed the color scheme so something more suitable. I lack the visual artistic talent to be able to draw it, but you're welcome to give it a try if you want.

And while I can't guarantee that my attempts to make the worldbuilding of "Kingdom Hearts" mesh perfectly with the worldbuilding of "The World Ends With You," I gave it my best shot and hopefully have something relatively workable. I'm sure that other writers have done better. But the important thing is that Shibuya is back, the characters are back, and this is set after the first "TWEWY" game and "Dream Drop Distance," but before Shinjuku was Purified (also known as wiped out of existence by the Angels). Meaning it is the perfect time to drop Sora-inside-Vanitas on Joshua's doorstep.