Treasured Memories
God of War and all associated characters and interpretations are property of Sony Santa Monica. Kingdom Hearts and all associated characters are property of Disney and Square Enix.
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Naminé's smile didn't wavered as they lowered their weapons.
"You are a memory," Kratos said. "Conjured up by Valhalla."
The young girl tilted her head to the side. "Not quite." She hummed lightly as she ambled over to them. The sheer ease and lack of care with which she moved unnerved Kratos. She either had an utter lack of care for her own safety or did not consider them threats in the slightest.
She stopped before them, pressing her hands together above her stomach. She tilted her head up to stare at the ceiling. "After Sora's memories were tampered with in Castle Oblivion, DiZ and the original Naminé determined that such a thing couldn't happen again. So, with Naminé's power over Sora's memories and DiZ's vast knowledge, they developed a defense mechanism against mind manipulation and implanted it deep within Sora's Heart."
"Oh!" Mimir exclaimed in awe. "Then, when Valhalla sifted through Sora's memories in order to fulfill its basic function, this mechanism."
"I did, yes," Naminé answered.
Freya hummed. "This Naminé crafted the defense mechanism in her image?"
"She didn't." Naminé tilted her head back down to look at her own body. "I'm meant to be an automatic defense—no sentience required. But this place, Valhalla—there's quite a lot to it. It's fairly expansive, and there's a lot of…odd gaps to it."
"Hræsvelgr's been slowly stripping away Valhalla's enchantments," Freya chimed in.
Naminé' hummed. "Well, I adapted to the circumstances. Filled in those gaps to better protect Sora." She grunted. "Though I'm surprised I didn't become Riku. His form was chosen to protect Jiminy's Journal within the Datascape for a reason, after all."
Kratos could almost hear the gears in Freya, Sigrún, Olrun, and Hildr's heads grind to a screeching halt. Himself, Atreus, and Mimir, much more used to the madness that was Sora's life, simply accepted the statement as fact.
Atreus stepped forward. "So, where is Sora?"
"In the deepest core of this place." Naminé replied.
"Can you take us to him?"
Naminé shook her head. "If I could do that, we wouldn't even be speaking right now. He's safe, though." She added, cutting off Atreus's next question. "He's…recovering."
"From his use of the Darkness?" Mimir asked.
"Oh, no." Naminé waved her right hand dismissively. "Rage Form doesn't negatively affect him like that. But that massive explosion? That's a lot even for Sora to take."
"Rage, eh?" Mimir chuckled. "Fancy that, Brother!"
Kratos grunted, ignoring whatever comparisons Mimir wished to draw with Kratos's own Spartan Rage. "Can you not wake Sora, or speed along his recovery?"
"That's not part of my functions, I'm afraid." The…simulacrum replied sadly. "He'll wake up on his own, eventually. But I know that you all need him to fix the World Tree."
Kratos nodded. "Ratatoskr finished his salve and wishes to fix the World Tree tomorrow morning. We cannot afford to wait." Naminé nodded, lips curling into a small frown. "You say that have essentially taking over Valhalla. Does it still function as a series of trials that progressively grow in difficulty?"
Naminé shrugged. "Yeah. It's just how this place is, I'm afraid. The absolute core of it, I can't change that." She winked at them. "But I can figure out how to make things easier for you. To start, you'll need this." She snapped her fingers, and a small orb of light appeared before Kratos. It faded away, in its place a thin card with three spikes along its top.
Kratos grabbed the card, inspecting it. It was firm, with a glossy finish. There was an image on the card; some sort of skyline of a city sitting atop a brownish globe. "What is this?" Kratos asked as he showed the card to the others.
Naminé turned around and pointed up the stairs. "That's what you'll use to enter the next area. Castle Oblivion operated on a convoluted, but oddly endearing, magical card system." She turned back and smiled at them. "Lucky for you, the only cards you'll be using are like that one." She pointed to it. "That shall lead you another World known as Traverse Town. Just hold it in front of the door up the stairs."
Mimir let out an excited squeal. "We're going to travel to other Worlds?!"
"Memories of ones." Naminé's body started to stutter and blur; like static on a screen, Kratos realized—and how long had it been since he'd ever seen that? "I'll meet you all on the other side." The last thing left was her ethereal smile before it too vanished.
"Ooh, travelling to other Worlds!" Mimir giggled. "How exciting!" Kratos looked down at his friend with a frown. "Oh, don't give me that look! You've already traipsed through dozens of worlds."
"This isn't a vacation, Mimir," Sigrún admonished him. "We must traverse through Valhalla and find Sora as quickly as possible."
"Doesn't mean we can't stop and admire the views," Olrun mumbled, prompting her sisters and Freya to glare at her.
"Can we get just go?" Atreus cut in, handing the card back to Kratos.
"Yes." Kratos said with a huff and led them up the stairs. At the top of the stairs was another long hallway, which led to a short staircase up to a pair of ivory doors. When they reached them, Kratos turned around to face the group—Freya and the Shield Maidens specifically. "You do not have to come," he said. "This has evolved beyond anything any of us expected."
Freya and her Shield Maidens exchanged glances. They all turned to him. "Really?" Freya asked, disbelief dripping off her tone.
"We do not know what lies beyond these doors, within Sora's memories." Kratos turned to the ivory doors with a frown. "But believe me when I say that what you can learn of Worlds beyond our own can be…harrowing." He closed his eyes, and took a deep, steadying breath. Unbidden, memories of his own journeys through different Worlds lurched to the surface of his mind. But, barring that one encounter with the self-proclaimed 'Shovel Knight', none of them were at all pleasant. The Polygon Man's vile tournament easily topped the list, by virtue of the fact that he was slowly undoing every World he touched in order appease his juvenile fantasies.
Sora, by all accounts, had almost exclusively faced monstrous foes that sought to destroy Worlds, if not all of Creation, multiple times. Creatures that, if Sora's beliefs were true, existed just beyond some unknown veil that separated Sora's home realm and their own. Creatures that, perhaps like Sora, could one day slip into their World by sheer happenstance.
A gentle hand on his shoulder—Freya's—tore him from his reverie. Her lips were curled into a soft smile. "We're not helpless, Kratos. And even if we can't handle whatever lies beyond those doors on our own, we are all in this together."
Kratos stared at her for a moment, before returning offering his own small smile in reply. He huffed. "Very well. I shall not attempt dissuade you further." With that said, he gently removed her hand from his shoulder, and held up the card in front of the door.
The card shone with a bright white light, before vanishing from Kratos's hand. At the same time, the door slowly groaned open, revealing an unending curtain of that same light. With a long, deep breath, Kratos steadied himself, and entered the door.
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Kratos felt a shift in the ground beneath him as he travelled within the light. There was a type of firmness to it that he had not felt in ages. He looked down at his feet where the light had faded just enough for him to the ground beneath his feet. Cobblestone. Well-worn, but also well maintained.
When the light faded, Kratos found himself in the middle of a city, its buildings made of wood and brick—but not the kinds of bricks they had within the Realms. No these were smaller, and precisely uniformed and identical to one another. Along the walls and on the streets were various lamps, and a few buildings had large glowing signs; there was a specific name for those kinds that he couldn't quite recall.
"Woah…" Kratos turned to see his son staring up at the buildings in awe. Freya and the Shield Maidens were in a similar state. "I've never seen anything like this," Atreus said, staring up at the bright glowing signs in the distance—neon! That's what they were called. Atreus stared at the neon signs, no doubt comparing the glowing letters to the ones he had seen in his travels. Kratos, calling upon the depths of his memories of other worlds, placed them as 'English'.
"What's so fascinating?" Mimir said, not even trying to mask his anticipation. With an amused sigh, Kratos unhooked Mimir form his belt, and pointed him forward.
The talking head's jaw dropped, his Bifrost eyes shining with wonder. "My word."
Everyone aside from Kratos spread out into the courtyard they walked into. Olrun raked her nails against a nearby building's wall. "Looks at these bricks. So uniform."
"I'm more curious about these lights." Hildr flew up to a lamppost and tapped its glass casing. "It's not fire in there, but I can't sense any magic."
"It is electricity," Kratos answered. "Harnessed through purely physical means."
"What means?" Mimir asked, practically salivating.
"I am unsure." Kratos gestured to the lamppost. "The basic mechanics of electrical devices was described to me as a network of copper wires."
Mimir let out a groan. "Oh, if only we weren't under such dire circumstances. I'd love to just take it all apart."
Olrun stepped up beside them and whistled. "I feel you there." She then giggled abruptly. When they all turned to her, she cleared her throat. "Oh, I was just thinking…Tyr's gonna be so pissed that he missed this opportunity. He'll probably foam at the mouth once we tell him." They all laughed at the image—even Kratos allowed himself a brief chuckle.
Atreus looked up at the roofs of the buildings. "So…what now?" He cupped his hands over his mouth. "Hey, Naminé! Are you here?"
"I am," a soft voice called out from behind them.
Atreus jerked around; a hand clutched to his chest. "Woah! You're sneaky!"
Naminé giggled. She walked forward, stopping between the two lampposts and turning to face them all. "Welcome to Traverse Town."
"The first World Sora ever visited," Kratos said.
"Yup." Naminé looked up into the starry night sky. "A refuge for all those adrift in the ocean of Darkness between Worlds."
Mimir hummed. "Then, should the worst happen, and our World falls, we'd end up here?"
"Some of you. Maybe." Naminé shrugged. "There's no real rhyme or reason to it, and Traverse Town itself comes and goes as needed." She tilted her head as she looked at them. "If your World does somehow fall to Darkness, don't worry about it. Whether you survive the destruction or not, eventually it and its inhabitants will be restored."
"What a reassuring sentiment," Freya deadpanned, though Kratos could see that Naminé's words struck a sharp cord of fear within her. She looked around with a frown. "The trials we are meant to face. I assume they're combative in nature?"
"There're other kinds?" Atreus queried.
"Valhalla personalizes itself for those that challenge it," Hildr answered. "I believe Mimir's experiences were largely passive in nature."
"Aye. I would relive the same events ad infinitum until it wore me down with the very truth of myself." He grunted. "I'm not a fighter, but I will admit I would have very much liked to punch something near the end of it all."
"And Sora, as we all can attest, is very much a fighter," Olrun concluded. "The question is"—she turned to Naminé—"what will we be fighting." The young girl just smiled, her teasing silence telling all. Olrun sighed. "Then where do we start?" At that, Naminé turned around, staring up at the building right at the end of the stairs just ahead of them.
At that moment, they opened, and out stepped Sora—a memory, given the fact that he didn't react to any of them. A younger version of him at that. His hair was styled wilder, and he wore an outfit Kratos had not quite seen even during his travels to other worlds—some kind of one-piece red under suit with a white and blue jacket over it, white gloves, and…large yellow shoes for someone his size. The only similarity to the furs he'd worn during his stay in their world was his silver crown necklace, proudly displayed around his neck.
But the most striking feature was his sheer youth. Sora was young, of course, but he bore a kind of tamed energy all experienced warriors did. This…This child before them still had a healthy layer of fat on his cheeks. And, more telling, his stature was halting and timid—a stark contrast to the confident, if not cocky, young man he had offered his home to these last weeks.
Staring at Sora, a melancholy quickly overtook them. When he sat on the steps, slumped over on himself, and dropped his heads in his hands, shoulders shaking. Acting on instinct, Freya moved forward and bent down to comfort him, but she simply passed through him as if he were vapor.
Freya rose to her feet with a sad sigh. "Oh, the poor boy. He's so young."
"He is still young," Kratos replied. And it was something that readily slipped his mind. Sora was only sixteen. And they saw him now at fourteen; his life, his entire World, destroyed.
Atreus had been around that age, when Ragnarök finally came to pass. Kratos had been in constant fear of events turning for the worst, and his son would be left alone. He at least held some assurance that he'd trained his son as best he could to survive. But Sora…by all accounts, he lived his life as any standard mortal. Perhaps not a truly carefree existence, but certainly not one that would require you to train for your very life.
Deep in his soul, Kratos offered an apology to Sora's parents, that their son was forced to endure such dreadful trials at such a young age. He promised that, at the very least, he would help Sora to safely leave this World as the first step to returning home.
Eventually, Sora lifted his head from his hands, and wiped his eyes clear of tears. He sighed, and rose to his feet, hands on his hips as he stared at the surrounding buildings. Slowly, his gloom gave way to genuine wonder. His lips curled into a smile, and he let out a soft giggle of disbelief.
He walked further through the streets, rounding the right corner of the building he'd exited.
Atreus turned to Naminé. "So, when are we going to start these trials?"
"Just follow Sora," Naminé said, before crackling like static and vanishing from view.
"Awful cryptic, isn't she?" Mimir stated as Kratos placed him back on his belt.
Atreus shrugged as he walked up the stairs. "I mean, as long as she's having fun?"
"Fun?" Sigrún blandly repeated.
"Once we take Sora out of Valhalla, she'll cease to exist, won't she? Since her current form is due to this place's magics." He frowned in sympathy. "I mean, it's a little annoying, but if I knew my existence was on a countdown, I'd probably get my kicks in wherever I could."
Kratos grunted. "I had assumed I would die come Ragnarök. I never saw the need to get my 'kicks'."
"Really?" His son sent him a flat look. "What do you call dragging me out to train from dawn 'till dusk every day of the week?"
"Every day?" Hildr repeated incredulously. Kratos kept silent, seeing no need to justify himself.
Together, they followed Sora through the streets, as he constantly looked around in awe. Eventually, after walking up to every fixture in sight, he opened a large set of wooden double doors.
The next section of Traverse Town was far more extravagant than the previous one. The buildings were all much taller, with red-tiled roofs, all facing a large stone courtyard. More glowing neon signs hung above doors and windows, all bright, vibrant colors. It was at that moment Kratos recalled that neon signs were mainly used by merchants or people that otherwise provided services to call attention to themselves. Traverse Town, inhabited by otherworldly refuges, must have had stiff competition in all fields.
At the end of the courtyard stood a massive, white-stoned building with stain glass windows. "What's that circle on the spire of that building?" Olrun asked, pointing to it.
Kratos eyed it for a moment—and held Mimir up when he loudly cleared his nonexistent throat—the word coming to his mind at the sight of the two arrows connected at the center of it. "That is a clock."
"A clock?" Olrun hummed, repeating the word beneath her breath.
"It is a timekeeping device." Kratos continued. "It makes use of gears and springs to tell time independent of the sun, moon, or stars."
Freya stared at him. "…You really know a lot about this stuff, don't you?"
"I learned much during my travels to other Worlds." Kratos replied.
Now everyone stared at him—even Mimir did his best to shift his eyes behind him. "Why?" Atreus eventually said.
Kratos shifted in place. "…You never know when you need to improvise a weapon."
"There it is," Hildr snarked, prompting a round of laughter. Their laughter died, however, when Sora walked up beside them. He too stared up at the buildings in awe, a wide smile on his face.
Only to freeze as a tall man ran in front of him, who then stumbled and fell onto his back. The man was practically torn to pieces, dark, smoking claws marks that cut his clothes to shred and dug deep into his skin. He tried to crawl backwards, but he barely made it an inch before he seized, his eyes going wide as a bright light burst from his chest. The man gasped out in pain as a stylized heart—made of crystal and glowing bright pink—flew out of his chest and into the air. Atreus and Freya tried to move forward but were held back by Sigrún and Olrun.
Kratos replaced Mimir on his belt and grabbed his ax as the man faded into dark, purple mist. His Heart—for this had to be the Heart Sora spoke so much about—floated away from them, towards a small, swirling ball of Darkness. The Heart sank into the Darkness, and from it spawned a…creature. It wore colorful armor—a stylized red-outlined, black heart emblem on its chest piece crossed with thorns and with an extended bottom point—and a massive helmet that rattled over its circular head. Two glowing yellow eyes—much like Sora's during his Rage Form—stared out from inky blackness. It twitched and convulsed in unnatural ways, before flipping in the air and vanishing in a brief flash of purple light.
Sora ran forward in utter shock to where the man once was. He stared down in horror, only to jerk back—along with the rest of them—as the shadows surrounding them rose up from the ground, forming more monsters. They looked like insects, ants, but with only two arms and legs. And as with Sora's Rage form and the previous creature, they too bore glowing yellow eyes.
Sora gasped sharply. "It's those creatures from the island!" he exclaimed, voice cracking in fear. He settled into his battle stance, summoning the Kingdom Key, and Kratos could not help but compare this Sora to the real one. This one's stance was sloppy—never mind how unorthodox Sora's chosen stance already was. His weapon trembled in his hands, his breaths came out in short gasps, and he kept shuffling his feet and jerking his head back and forth in a novice's attempt to keep track of all his foes.
Then, just before the first creature could strike, they and Sora all froze. None of them relaxed as Naminé appeared before them in a crackle of static. She stared sadly at Sora—frozen in terror—before turning to address.
"Everyone." She swept her arms out towards the creatures. "Meet, the Heartless." Kratos had his suspicions, but he couldn't help the tremor in his heart at the admission.
"So, these are the Heartless," Mimir stated with a low hum, a quiver in mirroring Kratos's own unease.
Atreus gulped, staring down at the Heartless closest to him. "They don't look like much."
"These are just Shadows." Naminé replied. "The most common Pureblood variant." She frowned. "Well, I say 'just', but even these guys can be trouble if enough of them get together. The one that disappeared earlier is an Emblem Heartless called a Soldier. I won't bore you with the details of their distinction." Olrun looked like she wanted to be bored with the details, but Hildr stopped her by placing a hand over her chest.
"So, these are what we're meant to fight?" Sigrún asked, receiving a nod.
"Are they dangerous?" Mimir asked. He rolled his eyes at the blank stares he received. "Aye, I know they're deadly, but are we at risk of losing our Hearts to Darkness—or however Sora described falling to them.
"Oh, no." Naminé shook her head. "If, by some odd misfortune, they do defeat you, you'll just end up back at the entrance to Valhalla. To do all this again." She hummed. "I mean, it'll still probably hurt. But you're all way stronger than he was at this point in his life. You'll be fine."
"And at later points in his life?" Hildr asked. Naminé just shrugged.
She looked at Kratos and gestured to the glowing circle. "Whenever you're ready." Kratos walked into the circle, which glowed brighter, encompassing his entire being. As that happened, Naminé's eyes narrowed.
"Ah, now I get." She murmured. She then pulled a sheet of paper and some sort of shaped, red clay—Kratos was certain he had seen it somewhere before—and drew on the paper.
"What are you doing?" Sigrún asked.
"Editing Valhalla's trials." Naminé replied, not looking up from her drawing. "It wants you to go through all of Sora's memories on this, and all Worlds, but that will take way too long." She held the paper above her for a moment, before shaking her head and crumpling it up.
"All his memories?" Olrun said incredulously as Naminé began drawing on a new sheet of paper. "Valhalla is only meant to pick out the memories it's challengers deem vital to their lives."
Naminé sent Olrun a deadpan stare. "Sora's very sentimental. But some memories are more impactful than others, should have a greater pull, you could call it. I'll chart out the best course I can." She turned around and pointed forward, clutching the paper to her chest. "Right now, your goal is Traverse Town's Third District. You'll find its entrance down the way—it's got a sign."
"And once we get there?" Kratos asked.
"You'll fight a big Heartless." Naminé replied. "The boss, you could call it, of the current band assaulting this World. An Emblem Heartless known as Guard Armor." She turned to address them all. "Any other questions?"
"Is this…really okay?" Atreus asked. "I mean, we are just stomping through Sora's memories. That's…pretty invasive."
"We don't have a choice," Freya replied as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Atreus frowned. "I get that, but…do we have to actually see the memories? Isn't taking his place during battles enough?"
"Unfortunately, no," Naminé said with a sigh. "Like I've been saying, I can't change the fundamental aspects of Valhalla. Part of that, as personalized for Sora, is viewing his memories. But don't worry." She smiled softly. "Sora won't really care. And it's not like you're the first people to view Sora's memories in some capacity. I'm pretty sure Ansem the Wise still has a copy of them stored somewhere in Twilight Town's servers."
"That's…fine," Atreus tiredly replied. Naminé merely shrugged and vanished from sight.
At the same time, the Heartless unfroze.
Kratos struck in a flash, slamming his axe against the nearest Shadow's head. But it just sank into the ground, as its name suggested, and scuttled away. When it reappeared, Kratos instead swept at it from the side. His attack easily cleaved through the Heartless, turning it to smoke. A quick look at his companions revealed that they too made short work of the Heartless.
"Weird little things," Atreus remarked as the last of the smoke dissipated.
"Don't underestimate them," Hildr replied, keeping her gaze to the ground. "If the shadows were any darker, they would have completely disappeared once they sunk into it. I can easily see them swarming victims in greater numbers."
"Come." Kratos led them all forward. "We must not delay." More Shadows rose from the ground as they walked forward. But before they could attack, Freya and Atreus shot arrows through their heads, killing them instantly.
As they entered the courtyard, Soldiers entered the mix. They were more durable than the Shadows, and packed a surprising punch that Kratos felt even through his shield, but they too fell to their combined might.
They found the alley Naminé described, and after another short battle, entered the Third District.
This district was smaller than the Second, or even the First District. They walked down a short pathway to another courtyard. The only thing of note were statues of two dogs nuzzling each other in what Kratos assumed to be a romantic nature.
Another memory of Sora ran ahead of them, only to turn around as a massive explosion boomed behind them. They all turned to see two figures flailing through the air, screaming all the way. Sora's eyes widened in alarm, and he tried to move, but was soon crushed under the figures.
Freya and her Shield Maidens all tilted their heads at the two people atop Sora. Freya spoke hesitantly. "Is that…a large duck and…dog?"
"Donald and Goofy," Atreus supplied. "Two of his best friends."
As Freya and the other processed that information, Donald and Goofy recovered from their crash landing. Immediately, their eyes landed on Sora's Keyblade. "The Key!" they exclaimed. At that moment, the ground shook, and pillars rose from the ground, trapping them within the courtyard. Heartless—Soldiers and Shadows—spawned all around them. Donald and Goofy leapt into action—the former branding some sort of staff and the latter a silver, round shield. Goofy also gently lifted Sora up by his shoulders to his feet, looking the boy over before focusing on the Heartless.
And then, they vanished, leaving behind a glowing green circle.
"Are we all prepared?" Kratos asked, receiving various nods. With that, he entered the circle, and began the next combat trial.
The Heartless attacked in greater numbers than before, displaying rudimentary tactics. Flanking, ambushes, swarming as Hildr suggested earlier. But Kratos and the others were all highly experienced warriors to the last. The Heartless stood no chance.
"Man!" Atreus chuckled as Hildr stomped the last Soldier to mist. "That was almost too easy." Before Kratos could berate his son—for a number of reasons—a high-pitched whining sounded from above them. They all turned to the sound, and were greeted by a massive suit of silver, red, yellow, and blue armor, the Heartless's emblem center on the cylindrical chest piece. By some invisible force, the armor rose into the air, the gauntlets, boots, and helmet positioned to mimic a person's stance.
Kratos settled for glaring at his son, who squirmed in place, before leaping forward with a roar at the Heartless.
The Heartless reared its right gauntlet back, before expertly swinging it forward to block Kratos's blow. They met with a loud clang, Kratos falling back as the gauntlet spun around before settling back to its side.'
"Attack the limbs!" Kratos bellowed as he re-readied himself. "I shall focus on the body." At his words, Atreus and Freya began shooting arrows at the boots, Hildr and Olrun rushed for the gauntlets, and Sigrún flew up to attack the helmet. As it struggled under the multi-angled assault, Kratos leapt forward once more, this time calling out his Shield and ramming into the Heartless's body. Whatever magic held it together could not stand against his divine might, and the armor fell to the ground in pieces.
Kratos landed with a grunt and unsheathed his Blades of Chaos. He sunk his blades into the creature's body, before stepping back a few steps, lengthening the blades' chains. He whipped the chains up, lifting the armor into the air, before roaring and slamming it down hard enough to crack the ground. As the others broke the gauntlets and boots pieces into purple mist, Kratos slammed the armor against every solid surface available.
Eventually, the armor shuddered, before shimmering with light. A massive crystal heart spawned from it, before, like the other Heartless, it vanished into mist.
At the same time, Sora, Donald, and Goofy reappeared before them. Sora let out a breath, swaying in place before Goofy held him steady by his shoulder. Seconds later, two people, a young man and woman, ran into the courtyard as the pillars sank back into the ground. The man wielded a blade that, bizarrely, had a gun's handle instead of a standard one, and the woman held multiple star-shaped projectiles in her hands. Shuriken, Kratos recalled.
Sora smiled widely at them, identifying them as Leon and Yuffie.
Atreus looked between the humans and Donald and Goofy. "Is it just me, or do they not look…the same? As in, their bodies and clothes are made of completely different kinds of…things, I guess."
"No, I see it too." Olrun stated, peering at Donald and Goofy. "Kratos, do you have any idea why that is?"
Kratos grunted. "No. It is not uncommon, however."
Mimir clicked his tongue as Kratos lifted him up to observe them as well. "I recall you stating that History's Greatest Musician was made of paper, Brother."
"History's Greatest Musician?" Freya repeated. "The one you fought in some kind of tournament?"
"Parappa was nowhere near so great," Kratos grumbled with a roll of his eyes.
Before Freya could delve deeper into Kratos's statement, Donald loudly expression relief that they finally found the Keyblade's chosen wielder—the one their king bade them find to solve the ongoing crisis.
Sora eyed the pair in confusion. "So, you were looking for me?" They nodded eagerly.
"They, too, have been seeking the wielder of the Keyblade," Leon added.
"Hey," Goofy spoke up. "Why don't you come with us? We can go to other worlds on
our vessel."
Sora's expression shifted to melancholy as he looked at his feet. "I wonder if I could find Riku and Kairi."
"Of course," Donald immediately replied. Something in the duck's tone gave Kratos pause. The hushed conversation he had with Goofy only increased his suspicions.
Leon stepped closer to the three of them. "Sora, go with them. Especially if you want to find your friends."
"Yeah, I guess," Sora half-heartedly replied.
Donald huffed. "But you can't come along looking like that. Understand?" At Sora's frown, he elaborated. "No frowning. No sad face. Okay?"
Goofy leaned down next to Donald. "Yeah, ya gotta look funny, like us!" Donald shoved him back.
"This boat runs on happy faces!" the duck declared.
Sora grunted. "Happy?"
Donald and Goofy nodded encouragingly at the boy. Soon, Sora sighed, and bent forward. He then lifted his head up, making some sort of high-pitched sound as he rolled his eyes upwards and spread his lips into a wide, unnatural smile.
"What are we looking at?" Sigrún asked with incredulity.
"An attempt to keep a child's mind off the fact that everything he's ever known and loved is gone?" Mimir somberly supplied.
Sora's expression faltered into awkward confusion as Donald and Goofy just stared at him. Then, Donald's shoulders shook, and he and Goofy burst into delighted peals of laughter.
"That's one funny face!" Goofy said in between breaths.
Sora smiled as he straightened. "Okay, why not? I'll go with you guys."
Donald held out a hand after he calmed down. "Donald Duck."
Goofy placed his hands atop Donald's. "Name's Goofy."
"I'm Sora," Sora said, before placing his hands atop theirs.
"All for one, one for all!" Goofy declared. Everything froze, leaving Sora, Donald, and Goofy smiling at each other. Then, the trio, and Leon and Yuffie, vanished, a pair of ivory doors—like the ones they entered this World from—appearing in their place.
Naminé, a smile on her face, stepped out from behind the door. "You guys have fun?"
"No." Kratos immediately replied.
"There was nothing 'fun' about witnessing a child despair and be thrust into a duty even a god would hesitate to accept," Freya, somewhat heatedly, added.
Naminé hummed sadly. "Well, you're definitely not going to like this next World." She snapped her fingers, and another card appeared before Kratos. This one bore the image of a metal castle—the Heartless's emblem proudly displayed—atop some sort of misty mountains.
"Hollow Bastion," Naminé declared. "The main base of the people that sought to plunge all Worlds into Darkness at this point in time."
"At this point in time?" Mimir repeated with bemusement. "And how many times have people sought to utterly ruin all of Creation without anyone knowing?"
"Well, technically most were all part of one large plan, but…" Naminé counted on her fingers. "Four times. Or five depending on if Marluxia's plot involved reshaping the Worlds in his image." She raised her other hand and extended her index finger. "Make that six, because if Jiminy's Journal went haywire who knew how much damage that would have done—though you could argue if that particular scheme was planned by a 'person'." And then her middle finger joined the rest. "Oh, and Maleficent wanted to use the dataspace to try and rewrite reality. I think. Sora was only told what happened during that whole fiasco, and Donald, Goofy, and King Mickey never went into much detail about it. And now that I'm thinking about it, did Hades, Jafar and Ursula ever plan to expand beyond their own Worlds?"
Even Kratos gaped at Naminé's blasé answer. She focused on her hands as she muttered to herself, before blinking, and staring back up at them. She flushed, before straightening and clasping her hands behind her back. "Uh, right. Anyway, see you in the next World." With that, she once again vanished in a burst of static.
Kratos let out a weary sigh before hooking Mimir back onto his belt and leading everyone through the door.
/+/+/+/+/
A/N: Sora's life is a real doozy when you think about it.