"Wait, 'death?'"
"Yes. The natural end for those whose hearts and bodies perish together."
-Sora and Chirithy, the Final World
.
"Three elements combine to create a life: a heart, a soul, and a body."
-Secret Ansem's Report 4
I
Really, it's a pretty lame joke in Sora's not-so-humble opinion.
And no, not just the fact that his nose keeps trying to escape his face. Though the constant crossed-eyes he has to make to focus on it and scold it back into place is getting quite old. And so is the fact that the sky keeps trying to hide under his shoes, while the ground drifts around in little blocks above his head alongside wisps of tree leaves. It makes getting around incredibly annoying.
Not even the Final World was this nonsensical. It was endless. It was ethereal. Gravity would shift at the press of a button. And of course the multitudes of himself running around was weird and unnerving. But there was still logic to the place. There was still some sense and reason it was following, even if it was just its own rules.
But this? Complete and utter nonsense unless he concentrates hard enough to form a little patch of sense to exist in. But each time he manages to get the floor down and the ceiling up, some part of his body tries to run off without him. It's not doing much in the way of actually letting Sora figure out how and why this all happened. Why, after everything, the world just decided to end.
He's seen the end of the world more than once now. Individual worlds. His own personal world. The world, even. So it comes as a bit of a shock to find that all of existence has come to an end. Actually, for real this time. No last ditch heroic efforts. No do-overs.
The greater surprise is the fact that he's not alone.
"Quit trying to make sense of it," Roxas groans. "If we go upside down one more time, I'm gunna be sick."
"I don't think you can get sick, Roxas," reasons Sora. He tries to lean against Roxas where they sit back-to-back, but Sora tips through him completely. His body mixes like thick paint through clock towers and ice cream and fire and seashells. Despite the fact that Sora's pretty sure he doesn't have ears at that exact moment, he still hears Roxas's cry of alarm.
And turns out Roxas was so wrong about not trying to make sense of things, because if Sora hadn't put the floor there, how would he have been able to tumble out the other side of Roxas onto it? He'd have just kept falling forever!
Roxas is staring down at where Sora lies sprawled across his makeshift ground. The look on his face is equal parts bewildered, offended, and horrified. And oh, oops. Sora's tumble through him has left Roxas holding his side in place with his hands as it oozes around his fingers like wet clay. Colors and fabric and skin melt and twist together until Roxas scowls hard enough for everything to sort itself out and settle back in place.
"See?" Sora says, grinning as he gestures to… all that. "I don't think you have a stomach to get sick with."
"You know, funny enough," Roxas says dryly, "that doesn't actually make me feel any better."
"So where do you think we are?" Sora asks, pulling himself up to sit facing Roxas with crossed legs. He lets the world around them fall away so he can focus on Roxas without some part of himself vanishing into… into wherever they are. It feels wrong to call it 'space.' 'The void' doesn't feel appropriate either.
"I… don't know," Roxas replies, and Sora hates the vulnerable look that passes over Roxas's features, eyes darting away. It reminds Sora of those early days of Roxas's life, feeling lost and unsure of everything. Of the many unpleasant memories Roxas had shared with Sora, the overshadowing sense of confusion is one of the worst parts to remember. "Don't you feel it, though?"
"Feel what?"
Roxas looks back to Sora with reluctance. Or maybe trepidation would be the better word, like he's afraid of answering. Roxas licks his lips, and dark colors and rain and city lights briefly flicker in and out of existence around them as he says, "It's over."
"What do you mean by that?" Sora asks with a nervous laugh, but he doesn't actually want Roxas to answer because Sora already knows. He does feel it. And yet, he can't stop himself from questioning it, anyway. "What's over?"
"Everything," Roxas says simply.
"...Are we dead?"
"I… I'm not sure."
"I don't feel dead," Sora decides. When he'd been to the Final World, it hadn't felt like this. Neither had Unreality.
But with the way Sora has to focus on his chest and imagine his heart into beating… he doesn't feel very alive, either.
"So why is it just the two of us?" Sora asks, hands locked together behind his head as they walk. It took a while to get that part down - lots of stumbling over nothingness and a few unfortunate mishaps of losing his feet altogether and his shoes popping into place on his hands instead.
Roxas glances at him, subdued. Some of his bangs blur around the edges, darkening to brown. Sora's pretty sure he's not the one changing Roxas's appearance like that, but he doesn't have long to think on it before Roxas's hair has remembered that it should be blond.
Roxas's clothes have been doing something similar; they're mostly in the fashion he likes from Twilight Town, but a black hood keeps trying to attach itself to his collar. And his sleeves can't seem to decide if they should be short or long, dark leather occasionally replacing the skin on Roxas's arms altogether. A few times, Sora's pretty sure he's seen some of his own clothes briefly sew themselves into Roxas's outfit.
"I'm guessing everyone else is probably somewhere like this, too," Roxas finally says. It's been like pulling teeth to get much out of him, and even now he sounds reluctant to answer. "If this really is the end."
"Mmmm." Sora pinches his lips around the uncertain sound. He tilts his head back and forth, squinting out around them. They're not really walking to anywhere. The ground beneath his feet is mostly sand, but Roxas is walking on cobblestone and pavement. And the environment isn't really changing in any meaningful way. The ocean on Sora's left is still stubbornly sideways and chunks of discolored worlds float in and out like gummiblocks around them. But it feels good to move, regardless. "Sure, okay. But then why aren't they here? Seems weird that we would be but not anyone else."
"Sora." Irritation colors the way Roxas says Sora's name, and he breathes out sharply. "Are you really gunna make me say it?"
"What?" Sora says, frowning. "C'mon, don't say it's because 'you're me,' or anything like that. I thought we were past that. You have your own heart, Roxas. I've seen it. I can't even feel what you do, anymore!"
Roxas doesn't reply to that, just glares down at the ground. For the span of a blink, Sora sees himself in front of him. But then Roxas is Roxas again and Sora can't be positive he didn't just imagine it.
Still, he reaches out to grab Roxas's wrist. His fingers sink in a ways, soaking in textures of white rooms and exhaustion, but he doesn't pass through Roxas this time. Roxas flinches, stops walking. When he turns to look Sora in the eye, his wrist has solidified under Sora's hand, perfectly realized down to the texture of his skin.
"Look," Sora says seriously. "I don't know what's going on, but I know you're still you. So stop that pouting," he adds with a teasing grin, poking Roxas's forehead with his index finger. Roxas flinches a little, but hey! Look at that! Completely solid to the touch this time. "And if you're here, then I just know the others must be! But until we find them, I'm really glad you're here with me, Roxas! I wouldn't want to be in this weird place all alone."
The shadows in Roxas's eyes betray doubt in Sora's claims, but the light behind his tiny smile is sincere.
"Okay," Roxas says. It's not exactly an agreement, but at least he's going along with it without any further protest. More reasons Sora knows they're not the same - for someone with an attribute of Light, Roxas can be so gloomy!
But maybe Roxas has held onto some of his powers over Light here, because the way Roxas allows Sora to keep a hold on his wrist, and even lets him join their hands more comfortably… Well, that sure makes Sora feel really bright inside.
"I can't believe it. It's actually all over."
Sora looks up sharply at Roxas. Coinciding with Roxas's abrupt statement, the features on his face crumble and distort and twist in weird ways that makes Sora feel a little sick to watch. One of Roxas's eyes crunches towards his nose before pinching so tightly shut that it disappears altogether.
"Hey, don't say that!" Sora says urgently and grasps Roxas's shoulders to give him a little shake.
"It's just starting to sink in," Roxas gasps. His remaining eye flys open, shortly followed by the other popping back into place so he can look at Sora with a stricken stare. "They're really gone."
Sora's face hardens. "No, they're not. Roxas, c'mon, man. You gotta pull it together. We've been in worse situations before."
Roxas adamantly shakes his head and, through eyes narrowed in pain, cuts Sora with a look of betrayal and pity. Roxas takes a step back, away from Sora, and the gesture punches a literal hole through Sora's chest. Sora grits his teeth and forces his torso to fill back in and behave. No time to be - literally - falling apart if his only companion is on the edge of some sort of nervous breakdown.
"No," Roxas says. There's no anger or malice in his voice. Just cold realization. He looks down at his feet to where fiery sunset skies take shape below. Blue tiles and fire lock into place above them. "You even agreed when I said it at the start. It's over. After everything, they're- it's all -"
"Roxas!" There's no levity in Sora's voice anymore. "Stop."
Roxas just shakes his head again and brings warping, fracturing hands to his face. In a burst, he begins to sob. Unrestrained, like all his short lifetime's worth of pain catches up to him all at once. There's no floor for him to fall to his knees, but he somehow does anyway.
Roxas won't let Sora comfort him. Any time Sora reaches out to try to touch him, his hands just go right through.
They have to stop walking for a while.