AN: Hello, and welcome to my first "serious" KH fic! To be honest, I'm rather new to the KH fandom, and I hope I'm not getting any big details wrong. I've written some KH crack before, but this isn't gonna be like that. I'll warn you now that this will get rather dark, even with all the Disney characters. Another warning: this isn't a Vanitas redemption fic. I have nothing against those, but this story's interpretation of the character isn't the redeemable sort. Also, I usually like to keep my chapters around three thousand words at least, but since this is just a prologue and ends at a natural stopping point, and I'm gonna try and finish the actual first chapter soon, I'm letting it slide this time.

Destiny is never left to chance.

Just how many times had Vanitas heard that? How many times had he been lectured on fate by Xehanort? The number must surely have been in the hundreds by now, given how much his Master liked the sound of his own voice. He'd told Vanitas all sorts of things, mainly about the future that he'd sworn to live to see — the aftermath of the new Keyblade War, though he hadn't really gone into the specifics. The parts he'd deemed most important for Vanitas to know were all centered around his union with Ventus and the forging of the X-Blade, the entire purpose of their split existence.

It could've been perfect. Vanitas could've joined with Ventus fully, darkness and light blending into a single being, something better than both of them, better than the haphazard fusion he'd piloted around while fighting Aqua on the outside and Ventus within their heart. They'd been so close to a complete union, a complete X-Blade, and Vanitas had felt it — the warmth, the light he'd been missing for so long. It'd been like regaining a lost limb — the sheer euphoria of reunion, right there, his for the taking, his light —

And then Ventus had rejected his role, his one purpose, and shattered their heart, casting them both into oblivion.

Vanitas remembered it very, very clearly. He'd kept grabbing at the X-Blade, desperately clawing into the void around him as it floated just out of reach, as if it was taunting him. It'd been of no use, of course, and eventually his body had stilled, and he fell, still staring at the X-Blade as it dissipated into light.

Only light. He hadn't seen even a speck of darkness.

When at last the X-Blade had disappeared and Vanitas could feel his own body start to break apart for the second time that day, he took one last look at Ventus. The boy's eyes were closed, his arms and legs beginning to dissolve around the edges, and Vanitas doubted he was even conscious. Still, he was smiling. Why was he smiling? He'd just killed himself in the most complete way imaginable!

Vanitas still couldn't understand that, but even so, thinking about the little smile made his fists clench in anger. Was Ventus really so eager to cast aside his own darkness that he'd destroy his entire being to do it? Was that a smile of victory?

Too bad, Ventus. You haven't won. I know you're alive, just as I am. I can feel it. I wasn't the only one to be saved.

Saved wasn't exactly the best word for what'd happened, though. Vanitas had a strong hunch that whoever had brought him back had only done it so they could use him for something.

What else was new?

Still, his brush with death had been terrifying — not that he'd ever admit it. Earlier, in the Keyblade Graveyard, when Ventus had stabbed him right through the stomach, he hadn't felt concerned in the least. He knew that one of them would have to lose their body, and why should Ventus's be put to waste? He was the one with a real, non-construct body, after all. Besides, it didn't even hurt that much. Vanitas had been stabbed before, of course, and all his excitement about the upcoming union made a good painkiller. It wasn't a real death; it was a rebirth.

The second time he felt himself slipping, however…

Xehanort had always told him that the X-Blade was all-powerful, its wielder invincible. Of course, Xehanort had always planned on being the wielder; as far as Vanitas knew, he had no idea that Vanitas's plan was to run him through with it the moment it was in his hands.

And then it'd been forged…and he'd still lost. Then again, it wasn't completed, was it? It was broken, unstable. Surely he could've killed Aqua easily with a complete X-Blade; surely he could've beat Ventus into submission if it wasn't broken…

Still, the fact was that he'd lost, and then he was dying, his body slowly going numb, but not numb enough that he couldn't feel bits of himself flaking off. He'd wondered, then, what would happen to him. He knew that all hearts eventually returned to Kingdom Hearts, but what about a heart that'd been destroyed? Was he just going to cease to exist, or was there something worse awaiting him? He had no desire to find out, but he couldn't even move anymore — he was completely limp as he fell deeper into the void, nothing above and nothing below, just emptiness, his namesake —

And then something, someone, had reached down and yanked him back up.

It'd been painful, what with all his senses returning to him, but he'd never been more glad to feel pain — to feel anything.

And then he'd woken up alone in the Keyblade Graveyard, maskless, lying flat on his back, alive.

Xehanort had always stressed the importance of the X-Blade, the power it would give whoever held it, but even knowing that, Vanitas had sometimes felt dubious that he could actually manage to kill his Master with it. Clearly, he didn't stand a chance without it — Xehanort was powerful, as he'd demonstrated many, many times. He couldn't just be killed by an ordinary Keyblade Wielder…

Except, from the looks of it, he had been.

Vanitas continued to stare at his Master's corpse, stretched out rather pathetically at his feet. His Keyblade was gone, his eyes stared up at nothing, and from this angle, he just looked like a dead old man. Perhaps that was all he was.

Vanitas had been staring at the body for the past fifteen minutes, and in that time, Xehanort hadn't magically resurrected himself, hadn't called on him telepathically from a new body, hadn't even kept the buzzards from picking at his corpse while Vanitas had walked up to it.

Perhaps he really was dead.

Nobody was around to explain what'd happened; Aqua was nowhere to seen, as was the mouse; Braig was gone, likely having run off after Xehanort's defeat; Ventus wasn't there either, though Vanitas could tell he was alive, and Terra…

Well, Vanitas had a bit of an idea about his fate.

There was a pool of blood a few feet away from Xehanort's body, and within it lay the scattered pieces of Terra's armor. Near the edge of the puddle, Terra's Keyblade stood, embedded in the ground just like the thousands of other Keyblades in this place. A memorial to a fallen wielder.

There was no body, but no one could lose that much blood all at once and live. Perhaps Aqua had grabbed his body before she left. The likeliest scenario was that Terra had managed to kill Xehanort for good at the cost of his own life. Since Xehanort wanted to use Terra as his vessel, perhaps Terra had stabbed himself before Xehanort could take full control — almost like what Ventus had done.

That's right, Ventus. You said you'd do anything to save your friends, but Terra's still dead. Exactly what did you hope to accomplish by shattering our heart?

Vanitas continued to stare at Xehanort's corpse for the next half hour.

For the first time in his life, he had no orders, no one telling him what to do. His life, twisted as it was, was his to do as he pleased with.

The thought was practically alien to him. No Master? As much as he'd wanted Xehanort dead, he'd never really thought about what he'd do next. He'd always figured that he wouldn't really be himself by that point — he would be one with Ventus, and the fusion would know what to do.

Still, even unfused, Vanitas knew what he would do. A plan was forming in his head, growing more certain by the second.

He would lay low for now; as much as he didn't want to admit it, he'd been defeated, and should he be defeated again, whoever had pulled him back might not see him as useful enough to revive again. Using a few small, stealthy Unversed as his eyes and ears, he'd find out exactly what had happened and what was going on. He would find Ventus, and then he'd take back his light and be engulfed in the bliss of a complete fusion. Ventus wouldn't deny him again — Vanitas would make sure of it.

No matter what it took, no matter how long it took, the two of them would have their reunion, and then there would be no more lines, no more space between them. The strength of darkness and the warm embrace of light, wrapped together so tightly that no one could ever unwind them again. The X-Blade would be forged and completed, and then the Keyblade War would begin anew — without Xehanort around to see it.

Yes, that was what he'd do. Though the circumstances had certainly changed, his goal was the same. Not for Xehanort's sake — it'd never been for the old man's sake — but for his own fulfillment.

Can you feel me, Ventus?

Eh, you will soon enough.

His mind made up, Vanitas reformed his mask, opened a dark corridor, and stepped forward into the next stage of his life.