I am surrounded by the dead and the damned. Keyblades, so many of them broken, so many of them truly lifeless, only the husk of their metallic forms remaining.
So many, but not all. There are maybe a thousand in total... Those Keyblades that still lived, clinging to life, even after all this time. Those Hearts and Souls were with them... Ancient Keybearers that had not given up.
I moved forwards.
Behind me, the husk of the dead Keyblade picks itself off the ground, drifting after me. Several more husks do the same, pulling out of walls, ceilings, out from crags... Quickly, a veritable wall of metal gathers behind me.
I pay them little attention.
I just keep walking inwards, my cloak fluttering in the wind. The further I go, the more empty husks appear behind me.
Ruined as this land may be... I still know it. My destination is where the χ-blade was shattered...
It only took several minutes of walking to get there.
Right in the center of it all...
There it is. Tens of thousands of Keyblades, arranged in a circle, with a cross of empty land going through it. All of them are planted into the ground, handles sticking in the air...
I don't stop. I don't even slow. I just continue to move forwards, heading right for the center of it. The wall of husks behind me spread out, and across the other side of the field, the husks that surround it begin to lift out and join it.
I close my eyes, feeling the World around me. More husks, further out. I summon them, too, and then summon more, and more, and more. I grab every single fragment of every single Keyblade, of every single husk, and gather it all around here.
Some parts still resonate with each other. Those, I reassemble, applying the most basic of a repair spell that will simply link the broken material together. It's all that's needed.
And then...
I kneel, upon this ground. And I examine them. The Keyblades rotate around me, and I search through each and every single one of them.
It takes me five minutes to find the first.
I pull it closer, the spinning Keyblades halting. It's brown, but a quick spell washes the dust off and returns it to vibrancy; white and gold mixing together in a ornate design. It's cracked, but otherwise whole.
It's still dead. And that? That hurts.
"Joker's Game." I say its name. "Marone, my old friend... I am so sorry I left your blade to rust."
I hold it close, cradling it with a gentle touch. It's so fragile, nothing like the terrible strength it once possessed.
The first Keyblade of my old companions...
But not the last.
The next one I find is part of a pair, right next to each other. I smile, at seeing them.
"Storm's Edge. Tsunami's Rush." I say their names. "Levi and Leli... You died, back to back, didn't you? I'm sorry..."
There were so many of us. Hundreds. My friends, dearest companions... How many had made it to the final battle? How many still had Keyblades that were intact? Not all.
Ah... That hurts me. That really, really hurts me.
Still, I go on. Three, so far.
So many left to go.
Thirty four.
Millions of Keyblades, here, and I found only thirty four that belonged to my friends. I know that at least eighty of us had joined this particular battle. To find less than half was... aching.
An aeon ago... And less than a month, at the same time. These Memories are painful.
But still, I cherish them deeply. If I didn't have them, who would be around to remember them at all?
None. That's who.
Everybody else is dead and long gone.
Now... it's just me.
I wave my hand. The husks of the Keyblades, none of them belong to people I knew, spread outwards, and join the other Keyblades in being buried in the ground, the circle widening as millions join the already existing tens of thousands...
Thirty four husks still float around me. These ones... I can't just let go of.
They vanish. I'll take care of them later.
But first...
There are others I need to deal with.
I hold my hand up. Across this World, those living Keyblades shudder. The Hearts and Souls stir, feeling that they've been singled out. Apprehension runs through them, though not fear...
Keybearers who had hung on this long would never feel such a thing. That they'd remained, even when all others had perished, even in the face of the Great Darkness, spoke of a inner strength that almost defied comprehension.
It takes a minute, for them to appear. These Keyblades fly in from the far corners of the land, soaring through the sky, gathering above me.
But then...
They pulse, and my grip upon them is immediately broken. Light starts to shine within them, and the Keyblades rearrange themselves, forming a set of circles within each other.
They shoot down, stopping just above the ground. Those Hearts...
Such determination.
Ba-bum.
They jitter in place. From the Hearts, I sense surprise. To feel such a Light, especially that Light, from within a Darkness like mine... Hah... Who wouldn't be surprised?
"Peace." I say. "I come here with no ill intent."
Ba-bum.
The Keyblades shivered. As one, they shifted, making space between them, widening the circles, some raising and lowering so that all of them could have a direct line of sight to me.
One, in particular, came forwards. A simple Keyblade, the Starlight, used by so many in the Unions founded by the Foretellers, though this one had been refined into its third form.
Ba-bum.
The Heart and Soul surged, drawn forth by this Light within me. Around me, in front of all the Keyblade, ghostly forms began to appear, the spirits of those long dead but whose Will had caused them to remain. A wide variety of people, mostly transparent, but enough of an impression remaining to see them clearly.
I even recognized one. Appearing from the Starlight Keyblade.
A boy with grey hair, cyan eyes, and a red scarf.
Ephemer.
A child who'd sought to unravel the mysteries of the World. We'd met, a few times. More, when he sought me out for my knowledge and wisdom.
And of course, I'd known of him beforehand.
But... It's ironic.
I wouldn't call him a friend. A good acquaintance, perhaps. Still, he knew me quite well. One of the few people who could claim to know me...
"Who are you?" Ephemer asks, his voice having an ethereal quality.
And he doesn't recognize me.