Ten Years Ago…
The House of Romanov
"There was a time, not very long ago, when we lived in an enchanted world of elegant palaces and grand parties. My son Nicholas, was the Czar of Imperial Russia. We were celebrating the three hundredth anniversary of our family's rule. And that night, no star burned brighter than that of our sweet Anastasia, my youngest granddaughter…"
The Palace of the Royal Family of Romanov was alive that night, Ventus had never seen such a wonderful sight. The most he had ever seen to celebrate anything worth mentioning was the few times a year that Aqua made a birthday cake for each of the boys and the Master, and the disaster that one year when Ventus tried to repay her kindness by making her a half burnt but somehow still soupy cake. But outside of that, the occasional shooting star was the most exciting thing he could have seen in person.
The young Keyblade wielder had just finished visiting Radiant Garden and planned on ignoring the pleas of his friend Aqua, and continuing his search for Terra. Despite the brown haired man's own encouragement for Ventus to return home. Ventus wasn't going to give up on Terra yet. So here he was, the esteemed guest of the Dowager Empress after he happened upon her carriage under siege by a troop of monsters. She requested that he attend the party celebrating her family's reign over their country as a token of appreciation. Ventus was told to respect his elders and to respect royalty, two birds with one stone.
The palace, with its majesty and elegance, was lit with thousands of sparkling electric lights, with the marquee aglow with glowing shine that celebrated the tricentennial of the Romanovs' rule. With hundreds of guests waltzing across the dance floor in elegant garbs and vestments of tender soft colors for the women and earthy dark shades for the men. The Dowager Empress, Marie, was elated to be able to watch her family thrive and be merry on the celebration of their family's rule.
Czar Nicholas swept across the floor in a cream colored suit and golden tasseled pauldrons, with a blue sash tied about his chest, his brown hair slicked back and beard fixed and trimmed for the occasion. His typically stoic and powerful profile was uncharacteristically jovial and grinning from ear to ear, all due to dancing with great joy with his youngest daughter Anastasia. The guests see the two twirling and stomping, the Czar occasionally taking his daughter by her waist and hoisting her above his shoulders. Her cries of laughter occasionally beat the parlor's band. Anastastia giggles and laughs, before seeing her darling Grandmother call her over.
"For me? Is it a jewelry box?" Anastasia asks, inspecting the bauble in her hand. Her grandmother shook her head in response.
"Look." The Dowager Marie takes out a small key, a small silver flower on a neck chain. She puts it into the back of the music box, and winds it. "Now listen."
As the music box begins to play, Anastasia begins to focus and listen intensely to the notes. When she begins to mimic the music and their pitches, it takes but only a few hums for her to realize what the song in the music box is. Her face lights up in utter joy when she figures it out.
"It plays our lullaby!" Anastasia realized as she held the music box tenderly and softly. "Oh! It's beautiful!"
"You can play it at night before you go to sleep. And pretend that it's me singing." Her grandmother whispered sweetly. Her eyes flicker from the music box back to her Granddaughter. "Read what it says."
"'Together in Paris' Really?" Anastasia asks, The Dowager Empress nodding in turn with a warm smile. "Oh, Grandmama."
Anastasia's voice radiates gratefulness and gratitude for her gift. The Dowager Empress simply nods and graces her granddaughter with a kind grin. Making sure to link the necklace around her granddaughter's neck so that she'll always have the key to the music box whenever she needs it. Anastasia is pulled into a close and loving hug, her cheek meeting her grandmother's for a quick kiss before running the music box up to her room for safe keeping.
Running past the blonde haired boy as he watches from above the second story landing, observing the people below. His closed fists propped underneath his chin as he watched with great interest. He's never seen so many people, much less so many people dancing together. He was never one to dance, that was always Aqua. She loved dancing.
A few moments later, Anastasia returns to the grand hall and scurries down the stairs to join the festivities. Hiding her music box in a secure and secret place that only she can find.
Anastasia walks along slowly and deliberately, admiring the stunning dresses of the women that twinkled like jewels under light m and the valor earned medals that adorned the men's chests that caught light in the lanterns glow. Her eye catches the light of a man's earned war medal and accidentally crashes into the hip of a stationary man. She turns her attention to him, her eyes going wide and her jaw dropping as she sees him.
He didn't wear any fanciful garment or clothing like the other guests, instead choosing to wear this skinsuit of pure ebony. With these red veins that ran along and highlighted the definition of his pectorals, his abdomen muscles, and trailed along his body like splinters off like river grooves of crimson all along his form. He wore a deep purple skirt around his waist, that was torn and cut to be jagged along his thighs.
What really caught her attention was the helmet he wore. It had an iron jaw guard, with a black glass bowl atop so dark that she couldn't see his face. She didn't know how exactly he saw through the glass, but she did see him snap to face her properly and stare at her through the glass. His arms crossed and his hands held in taut fists against his biceps.
"It's rude to stare, you goblin. Run along, scram." His voice came out in a short breath and a snide tone. The helmet reflected her sudden fear, before she quickly excused herself to run to her father's side. He sat on his throne, calling her over to join him at his side with a roll of his wrist. Anastatia did so, but not without shooting a glance over her shoulder to see the helmeted man staring at her with piqued interest. Then he snickers under his helmet as his gaze lingered, his arms unfolding. He continues to glare with a smirk gracing his face, not that anyone else would see this expression behind his glass helm. "Well, aren't you something special? She could be another one who is Pure of Heart. Like that brat from Radiant Garden."
There were a series of surprised cries and sudden gasps from the now frozen crowd and the room quickly fell silent. The Czar slowly pulls Anastasia to his side, his dark eyes peering over the crowd. The beautifully dressed crowd parted to make way for the malevolent figure that began to slink across the once bustling dance floor.
There is a flapping sound and suddenly an ivory bat glides down to join his master, landing on the dark figure's shoulder. He wore a hooded brown robe that trained along the ground behind him as he walked. His black beard was pulled down to a sharp point in the middle of his chest. His open sore fingers reached up to grab hold of the hood and pulled it off.
With a flash of a smirk, the sickly green skinned man flares at Nicholas with a stare of pure hatred and rage. His nostrils flared and his face pulled from its simple smirk into a scowl.
"How dare you return to the palace?" The Czar inquired with great authority. The ruler rose from his throne, glaring at the once trusted adviser with disdain. "We thought you were a Holy Man. But I know what your heart truly speaks. It says that you are nothing more than a fraud, power-mad and dangerous villain."
"Czar Nicholas. But I am your confidante." Razputin's voice carried a cruel sounding waning tone. It was sharp, as though it could cut ears with his silver tongue. "You cannot believe-"
"Confidante?" The Czar chuckled with an uproarious laugh, which was soon accompanied by the parlor that was full of his subjects. All of them cackled at the expense of Razputin. Who fumes in the center of the room. "Ha! You are a traitor. Get out!"
"You think you can banish the Great Rasputin? By the unholy powers vested in me. I will banish you with a curse!" Razputin raised his spindly fingers, wisps of darkness trailing behind them as smoke followed fire. His sunken face and his black eyes were brought to needlepoints. His pointing landed on each of the Romanovs. The Czar, his Tsarina, the three older daughters named Olga, Tatiana, and Maria. The Mad Monk's sights rested on the Czar's youngest daughter Anastasia, as well as the youngest child Alexei, who was pulled to his mother's chest and forced to look away from the dark magician. "You mark my words! You and your family will die! Cruelly and violently! I will not rest until I see the end of the Romanov line forever! Go fulfill your dark purpose, my minions! Go and seal the fate of the Czar and his family once and for all!"
On cue, the dance floor is then inhabited by the monsters of various shades and colors.
The most prominent of these beasts are lithe beings clad in purple armor, with three protruding silver claws primed to strike. The symbol of their allegiance to their group. It's sharp and with deep grooves between each pointed tip. It looked as though it were two axes facing the other's blade, with their heels so narrow and thin that they crossed over the other. Making an image of a heart in between the beard and belly of the axes. The symbol belongs to those creatures signifying that they are Unversed.
The armed guards quickly take to the floor, drawing their blades and drawing their sidearms to engage with the monsters. The dancing crowd immediately disperses, leaving the beasts to engage with the Russian soldiers. The Czar draws his own ornate blade, preparing to meet his once trusted confidante in the flurry of melee and armed combat. Slamming his blade into one of the Unversed with fury and desire to protect his family. It was then that the gates were thrown open, a guard holding his bleeding side as his eyes were wide and his teeth stained a fresh red.
"Your majesty! The Bolsheviks! They have attacked the guards in the front of the palace! They are storming the estate! Run!" The armed sentry shouted as they barged through the doors of the parlor to warn the royal family and their host of guests, only to be skewered by a charging bayonet from behind. The man who stabbed the guard tackled them to the ground and continued to stab away. The armed guards began to face a two front engagement, one half of the room addressing the Unversed that spawned in the middle of the dance floor in melee combat, the other dealing with the assault on the estate from the Bolsheviks as they hammered into the windows and barged through the doors with gunfire and rapid barricades made of bodies and tables.
"Kill the Romanovs, Vanitas." Razputin requested, the masked boy wordlessly pursuing the first targets in his sight lines that belong to the Romanov lineage. "Ignore the revolutionaries."
Vanitas turns his attention towards the Tsarina and the boy that she held in her arms. They would be the first to fall. She stumbled slightly as she rushed towards a nearby doorway, only for it to be blocked by the instant rush of the guests attempting to flee the violence. Their bodies packed tightly into the doorframe and ensured no one else could escape. The Tsarina turns around to find a different way out and sees her reflection in the glass of the helmet Vanitas wore.
"Please, don't hurt my son. He is innocent." She begged, pulling the boy's cheek to her chest as she looked at the masked boy with a defeat in her eyes. Her eyes catching her reflection in the glass and seeing the fear and the horror that rested in her stare. The masked boy rubbed his thumb over the tips of his fingers, crooked his neck towards her and glared at her with indifference.
"Intense heat kills nerves fast. If he's lucky, he won't feel a fuckingthing." Vanitas grumbled beneath his helm, raising his hand and snapping his fingers. In an instant, the mother and her youngest child burst into a fountain of flames. She continued to hold her son and was powerless to stop the way he wailed in agony, using his final breath to call out for her, begging her to make the pain stop. The two of them collapse, her atop of him as they are reduced to a smoldering heap of scorched meat on the floor. Vanitas shrugs, an unenthused nose huff echoing in his helmet. "Whoops. Guess he wasn't lucky."
Their screams echoed in the huge parlor room as the guards continued to fight the Unversed. Rogue gunshots hitting windows and lives of both monster and man alike meeting their ends so suddenly and violently. Vanitas simply walked, one foot barely ahead of the other as he slowly skirted across the floor to approach the next batch of Romanovs to dispose of.
Vanitas walked over towards the three older Romanov daughters, each of them trying desperately to run out of either the malevolent beasts or the revolutionaries that wanted their heads. Vanitas summoned his Void Gear, his Keyblade of Darkness.
The Keyblade was made up of broken cogs, the guard block ridges with a smooth grip, a seafoam gray glass eye sitting along the chappe of his weapon. The blade itself was layered in black linked chains, as if the blade itself was barely holding its form and needed the extra straps to hold it together. The tip of the blade held an eye that reflected it's sister, and the teeth of the weapon resembled the blocky guard, with highlighted red ridges along the teeth.
The first strike carved through Maria, a chop along the hip that would have cleaved through a tree trunk and bisected the young woman in one swing. Her legs fell off to the right and her torso fell off to the left. Her chin smashing against her sharp heels with her eyes wide open and her jaw falling slack.
Olga met her end when the teeth of the blade crashed into her forehead and only stopped when the teeth were snagged on the woman's collarbone that kept him from continuing his swing. Vanitas tugged to remove the blade, only for the body to limply be pulled to the floor with every nudge and the shifting of the teeth further divided her skull into two pieces.
Tatiana, the last of the sisters, fell to the floor in a wailing heap when a splash of blood crashed against her chest and cheek. Her vocal chords threatened to snap as her screaming dominated the halls. Even in the battle cries and revolver and rifle rounds, her voice was heard by all. Her thin hands pulled to face to keep from having to stare at the bloody piles that were once her sisters.
Vanitas slammed his heel into the chest of Olga, knocking her off of the blade and turning towards the last sister. His mask sprinkled with fresh blood that trailed along the glass and gathered in small pockets along the jaw of the helm. He rose his blade to make quick work of-
"Vanitas!" The boy in the mask stopped as he raised the blade, turning his head ever so slowly towards the voice. His body flexing and his heart ramping up in adrenaline as he saw her. Even in her rage, she held measured resolve and security in her tone. Truly dignified, just as a Master should be. "Stop this now!"
The blue haired woman was clad in clothing not of this world, with a blue sleeveless top and black corset tied off with white knots and two pink belts crossing over her chest. Her shoulders were bare, white bell sleeves starting in the middle of her biceps and hanging loose beyond her knuckles. Her black shorts with blue and white clothes draped along her hips and tied at her waist. Her armored boots clicked against the floor as she approached the masked boy.
Her cerulean eyes were calculated and firm when she drew her weapon without hesitation, her keyblade was conjured from pure light that appeared in her hand. Its blade was shaded a metallic blue, with white guards and raindrop shaped white markings along the chappe and tip of the blade.
Vanitas let his weapon fall limp in his hand, turning towards Aqua with hyper focused interest in her appearance. Without breaking his eyes off of her, he raised his free hand towards the last sister and sent a ball of fire while she sat stunned at the display of violence all around her.
The flames crashed into the woman and consumed her, the flailing form of a now crumbling dying woman reflected in the bloody glass of the helmet. Vanitas not so much as breathing out of turn at the fact he set a woman on fire just a few feet from him.
"Aqua…" Vanitas muttered to himself with twisted desire. Vanitas admired her for what she was. She was fast, she was strong, and she showed a level of mastery over magic that he knew blew the other two idiots out of the water. Of the three he wanted to fight, he looked the most forward to facing Aqua in combat. Besides, they were fresh off their fight at Radiant Garden where she proved to be a worthy opponent, he was itching to cross blades with her again.
"Vanitas, what are you doing? Deal with the woman." Razputin ordered with a weak wave of the hand, his feet carrying him towards the Czar as he took his reliquary in hand and approached the currently occupied royal man. "I'll deal with, 'his majesty.'"
Vanitas shook his head in disappointment, twirling his blade in preparation and approaching Aqua immediately. Who was busy striking Unversed after Unversed with her Keyblade. Causing them to burst into clouds of dust.
"You better get off of your ass if you want to get shit done tonight, Razputin. I don't have all fucking day." Vanitas barked, readying his fighting stance. Charging into the fray and swinging his blade. Aqua spins on her heel, cartwheeling out of the way before Vanitas' blade could bite her. She landed on her feet and turned towards him, eyes squinted as she pulled her arm back and sent out a ball of fire.
"One mustn't rush a course in their meal, comrade. Improper manners." Razputin snickered, his eyes aglow with fury as he ran his tongue against his crooked, yellow stained teeth. "Revenge is a dish best eaten at one's leisure and with a ferocious appetite."
Vanitas cast his own flame, his darkened orb of purple and black smashed into Aqua's own sphere of orange and red fire. The two converged and exploded into a dense smoke cloud, incinerating any Unversed that were unfortunate enough to be caught in its radius.
"Hello, Backup." Vanitas sneered, his helmet reflecting the glowering glare that Aqua was giving him. His crooked smile underneath his helm grows as he feels the hatred radiating off of her. That darkness, however faint, was being stoked by his irritating words. He glanced up and saw Ventus standing at the top of the stairwell, his blue eyes growing in surprise. "Are you really going to die for these scum? Personally, you should be more worried about that brat. After I'm done dealing with you, I'm going after that sniveling child."
Aqua charges toward Vanitas and swings her blade. Vanitas meets her swing with a well-timed guard, the helmed boy chuckling darkly as he engages with her in a duel. His black and copper toned blade crashes into hers with a series of quick combos, his free hand grabbing one of the armed guards and throwing him into one of Aqua's swings.
Aqua stops mid-swing just shy of the mans' chin, just barely avoiding hitting the bystander. Vanitas used the moment of reprieve to fade into a black blur, appearing above the pair to strike them down. Aqua shoved the soldier back and cartwheeled away from the downward swing. Vanitas' blade smashed into the floor, before roughly dislodging it and pulling up some debris towards Aqua and chasing after her in earnest desire to continue the scrap. The two blades meet in thundering clashes and window illuminating sparks when metal meets metal.
Ventus goes to intervene, only to see the Dowager Empress and her granddaughter Anastasia run up the stairs towards him. Unversed chasing after them and clawing at their heels.
"Young man! Please! We need to get out of here! They are killing everyone! Please!" The Dowager shouts with Anastasia in her arms. He sees Aqua holding her own against Vanitas, turning to the Empress and her granddaughter, nodding and rushing towards them. He summons his keyblade and sends it careening towards the troop, the spinning blade tearing through them before boomeranging back into his hand. "Bless you!"
"Lead the way!" Ventus stated, following them into Anastasia's room. Ventus saw three more Unversed crawl out of thin air, charging forward to meet them in combat. The first fell to a quick combo, a trio of hits so fast that the Dowager only took two steps before the beast was felled.
Ventus threw up his hand, a small tornado forming in his hand that then expanded into a small cyclone that slammed into the two remaining Unversed and sent them crashing through the window behind them.
Anastasia and the Dowager Empress enter her granddaughter's room, a hand grabbing Ventus by the shoulder and pulling him back into the hall. Ventus meets the stab of a bayonet with a block of his blade, biting back against the Bolshevik with a swing across his teeth.
The Bolsheviks that rushed up to chase after the grandmother and granddaughter held axes in their hands, getting ready to meet the Keyblade wielder in combat.
The Dowager Empress slams the door behind her, quickly dragging the short dresser in front of the doors hopefully by some time. Anastasia runs to her toy castle, opening the tower topper and retrieving her previously hidden music box. Marie runs a hand over her hair, unsure of what to do next.
Out of the wall, a young brown haired boy sneaks out by pushing on a hidden door. The boy sees the young princess and the Empress, his back automatically straightened and his hands shot to his sides. He hears the doors begin to get slammed into, the Bolsheviks attempting to ram through the door to reach the remains of the Romanov line.
"Madame! Princess! Please! Through here! Through the servant's quarters! It will lead you out onto the river! Make for the trains!" The boy orders, watching the young princess and the woman crouch down into the corridor and begin to descend down into the depths of the palace. The Princess' hand is misplaced in the dark and her music box slips out of her hand as she tries to correct her mistake and rolls out back into the room. Despite her protests to go back, the Grandmother pressed her forward. She could always get another music box, she would not lose another granddaughter.
In the dark the two ran. Escaping to freedom.
The boy closes the door behind them just as the Bolsheviks break through, with the young boy throwing a nearby lamp towards one of the revolutionaries and is met with a gunstock slam to the head which sends the boy immediately to the floor. Crashing atop of the music box.
Back in the grand hall, The Czar drew his blade, his sword at the ready as Razputin raised his hand and a beam of necrotic green energy plumed out of his palm and shot into the Romanov. The man flew back into the throne, blade dropped and his body going limp against the Royal seat.
"Couldn't fight me on even footing, eh? You had to go seek out malevolent forces to gain an edge? Are you too much of a coward to face me like a man?" The Czar growled, Razputin's eyes undeterred as he stared down at the downed monarch. As he crawled and attempted to sit up straight in his seat. Attempting to hold his head high and his shoulders squared out. He had to be strong, even as he faced his end. The Czar shook his head, his lips curling to a cruel grin. "All those underhand dealings for more rubles that I ignored because you healed my son. All those women you bedded that I had to sneak out in the middle of the night because you were kind to my family. All those extravagant meals we shared together because I thought we were friends. You rampant glutton! Taking more and more with every breath you have. You self-indulgent Сука swine. You piece of sh-"
Razputin had enough of the long winded Romanov, and had raised his reliquary as the Czar spoke. The thin glass vial began to glow a bright green, before smoke bellowed out of its human skull shaped top.
A vapor viper of emerald shade slunk out of the vial's maw and slithered down the Czar's own throat.
The smoke coursing down his gullet as though he were forced to start swallowing while drowning in water. His eyes grew void and cold as he lost his breath, starting to choke on this smoke serpent that weaved through his system. His veins pulsed against his skin as his face flushed a deep purple. The breath of his being taken from his body. The king then fell limp on his throne, his eyes puffing out of his skull as he stared at Razputin. Those eyes of his never leaving the man who had taken his life.
When the snake found its prize, it retracted out of the man's body. In its foggy fangs was his crystallized, glowing crimson heart. It was dragged into the reliquary, Razputin's voice rising to a high cackle as he clutched his glass treasure. The beating red fading to match the illuminated green inside the glass.
"Dosvedanya, you fool!" Razputin pulled the glass close to him, eyes aglow with frenzied desire. Seeing the vial swing in his hand. "Now, lead me to the last Romanov…"
Anastasia was eventually led out of the dark by her grandmother and onto the bank of the frozen lake that ran along the canals. The frozen river's chills bleeding through her thin shoes as she struggled to keep her balance along the ice. It was almost a sharp breath later when the windows of the estate were blown out by a wave of rushing fire, the glass shattering and echoing through the night air. The dark smoke rising to the starless sky above.
The Romanovs' palace was set ablaze due to the intense exchange of magical power between a being of Darkness and the Keyblade Master. The grandmother and her daughter, the two of them skimming across the surface of the frozen lake in a desperate attempt to reach the nearest train station.
It's when they begin to cross under the bridge, that is when the sound of a furious scream is heard and a weight is immediately thrown atop of Anastasia. It was Razputin, who grabbed hold of the girl's ankle and attempted to pull her away from the Dowager Empress. The grandmother attempted to pull her away from him, when a deafening roar met their ears.
Against the smoke of the burning palace are the wide, flesh wings. The glow of red eyes in the dark are a blur as the body is carried by intense speed. The chest was clad in loose chain linked armor, the jingle of its chains echoing as the flap of its mighty wings. The wide triangle ears pulled back to be aerodynamic and its wide red eyes flickered between the two as it swooped down. Its skin was chalky and white, shining in the light of the waning moon. The Unversed sigil resting on the bridge between its crimson eyes. The Violent Vesper had arrived to destroy the last of the Romanovs.
Razputin chuckles as the Unversed beast descended upon the pair of Russian royalty, only for a boot to crash against his face and to hear a shout of fury erupt from the attacker.
He wore a compression black top, his brown hair ruffled blowing in the sudden chilling wind. His wide bottom pants flutter in the breeze as his shoulder armor pauldron clinks as he readies his fighting stance.
"Get out of here! I'll handle this!" Terra draws his Keyblade, his eyes focused on the huge towering bone white Bat crashes against the ice and skids against the surface, its blood red eyes wide and its sharp fang filled maw opened to begin screaming at the brown haired keyblade wielder. Terra charged forward and slammed his blade into the beast's stomach, followed by an overhead strike that caught the Vesper's lip and dragged it down into the ice. Razputin groans, clutching his fists in fury.
"Kill him you idiot!" The Mad Monk orders, pointing a finger at the target. Terra raised a hand and sent a quick bolt of thunder towards Razputin. Who deflects it with a wave of the hand and has it hit the surface of the river. His devious eyes catching the glow of the spent bolt of thunder.
The Vesper's jaw smashing into the ground and cracking it. Terra raises his blade and crashes it into the skull of the Unversed, the ice breaking beneath its skull as it charges forward and tackles Terra.
Terra raised his keyblade in time to guard against the massive bite of the beast, the ice offered no resistance and he began to skate on his heels along the surface of the river canal. He raised his left hand and barked out a spell.
"Freeze!" Terra shouted, the torrent of ice crashing against the Vesper's face. The ice begins to freeze along the head of the Unversed. The Vesper pulled away and tried to pull its head out of the ice block by scratching at it with its claws.
Terra followed the assault with volley of ice spell after ice spell. Limb by limb, the beast was completely frozen and the sudden weight caused the body to crack and break the ice beneath its space. The Unversed bobbed in the water for but a moment before sinking down into the depths of the dark waters.
Its frozen body is then swiftly pulled underneath the current of the river. Its ivory body is now hidden beneath the ice. Razputin watches his Unversed minion fall into the water. Before he could react and attack Terra, the Keyblade Wielder's boot fell into his chest and rocketed him into the freezing waters.
Watching him fall into the open wound of the river. His glass trinket landed along the river's surface and slid. Terra, who saw Razputin sink into the depths, opted to assist the civilians who might be trapped in the burning building and ran towards it to help.
The train station was a mess and unfortunately packed wall to wall with people desperately trying to escape. Both proletariat and bourgeoisie alike trying to escape the violence.
The Empress continued to run, her hand gripping Anastasia's as the other reached out towards the moving train caboose as it prepared for take off. The Empress is grabbed by a bystander and pulled up onto the train.
Anastasia's hand slips out of her grandmother's when her foot gets caught on one of the loose slats on the train platform. The two lost their grip and the young girl's body crashed forward and her skull knocked against the wood. The world fading to darkness as people scrambled over her and around her to get away from the violence that echoed in the street.
Her eyes immediately shut when she made contact, her body went limp against the floor, and the world pulled away into a sudden dense fog. The world she knew was gone, both literally and metaphorically.
Lives were destroyed that night. What had always been was now gone forever. Who once was Anastasia, the last living Romanov, was gone and in her place…
The Present Time
The Red Republic
The Fork in the Road
Anya, a recently turned eighteen year old orphan, settles the deep blue scarf along her shoulders as she marches through the calf deep snow. She focused on the frozen dirt ahead towards her new life as a fresh adult under the Union brought in from the revolution nearly a decade ago.
Phlegmenkof, the horrid woman who owns the orphanage Anya had spent her childhood years at. This woman, who found this girl walking around aimless on the streets following the night of fire andwhere the Romanovs had lost their lives to beasts and men alike, had secured a job for the young woman at a local Fish Factory down the road.
And for the last ten years she had fed Anya, she had clothed Anya. She kept a roof over Anya's head. And on every single day in those ten long years, Anya was reminded of such a generous gesture.
All she had to do was go straight down this very path until she got to the fork in the road, and then proceed left. Anya bundled up in any and all of the ragged, hand-me-down clothes she had in the world. She wore a huge brown overcoat graciously given to her by the groundskeeper who got a new one several years back, and the blue scarf was knitted by a kind woman who gave all the children handknit mittens and scarves one year.
Her long flowing red hair was packed densely under her black flat cap, her clear blue eyes resembling icy river beds glanced at the sign at the aforementioned fork in the road. The left leads to the village. And the right to the city of St. Petersburg.
"Go left, she told me. Well, I know what's to the left. I'll be Anya the Orphan forever." The woman mutters, her eyes glancing over to the sign that reads St. Petersburg with a slowly growing smile. "But if I go right … Maybe I could find…" Anya pulls at her necklace to find the golden flower petal piece of jewelry that was found on her person so many years ago. On the back was the inscription that read, "'Together in Paris.' Whoever gave me this necklace must have loved me… This is crazy! Me go to Paris …?"
The red haired woman looked up towards heaven, gently lowering her head in a solemn prayer. Just as she was taught to do for so many years. "Send me a sign, a hint, anything!"
A small puppy, with charcoal gray markings against starless sky black fur charges out of the nearby thicket, rushing up to her with an inquisitive sniff of their wet black nose.
"I don't have time to play right now, OK. I'm waiting for a sign." Anya said as she looked at the puppy and nudged her chin towards the path leading to St. Petersburg. "So, if you would please- hey. What interesting eyes you have…"
Anya gives the puppy a few scratches under their chin, the eyes of the small dog were a bright and solid shade of warm yellow. Lacking any irises and pupils. Their pink tongue hanging out out as they enjoy the rubs.
"Dusk!" A man's voice echoed out as he charged through the snow heavy branches and out into the road. His black gloves tearing through the trees to break them apart as he moved to catch up with his small companion.
Kuro's form had morphed to accommodate for the new freezing weather of this world. His jacket had morphed into a woolen thick coat, a deep charcoal gray overcoat with a thick black leather belt around his waist. Similarly, he wore gray trousers underneath. His typical military boots lost their knots and string, they were replaced with thick heavy black kirza boots, shoes made with artificial leather. Atop of his head, keeping his silver locks from framing around his face was a wool ivy cap that fit snug around his forehead.
"Dusk!" Kuro approached the dog, patting him firmly and pulling him up into his arms. "You cannot run away like that. You're dog, a small one so please-"
"Are you talking to your dog?" Anya asked with a short laugh, Kuro's eyes shooting to her and raising a brow. He glances down at Dusk, then back at her.
"You don't talk to your dog?" He asked without skipping a beat, seeing her shake her head in response.
"I don't. Sorry, I can't really focus on you right now." Anya stated as she turned her attention to everywhere but the silver haired man. A hand propped under her chin and her fingers gently tapping against her chin. "I'm currently waiting for a sign."
"What kind of sign?" Kuro asked, walking over to her and glancing up at the wooden post with literal signs above her. He snickered to himself, pointing at it with his thumb. "I mean, are we taking like real signs or like-"
"Oh, hush." Anya giggles, waving it off as she turns to finally face Kuro. Her eyes squinting as she meets his orange eyed stare. "What are you doing here, Stanger?"
"Kuro. And I'm looking for a friend." Kuro stated, as he glances around lets out a short sigh. Clapping a hand over Dusk's back and giving them a few quick rubs. The small hound involuntarily shakes out their left leg. "I had a feeling they are here somewhere… but I think I… took a wrong turn."
"You're looking for something too?" Anya asked, offering a smile of acknowledgment to that similar sentiment. "I'm Anya. I am looking for the person who gave me this necklace. I can't remember their face but they must have loved me a lot. I mean… look at it."
She holds up the trinket by the chain, showing it off the small pedal piece of jewelry by having it contrast against her fair skin.
"We both are looking for people, it seems." Kuro stated with a shrug. He turns down the path and stares at the snow covered road. The one leading to St. Petersburg. "The person I'm looking for is near a big metal wall, with writing on it. Sound familiar?"
"Big metal wall? Writing? Oh, probably in the city!" Anya started with a beaming smile, rising to her feet and rushing to his side. "You need to go to the city?"
"I think so?" Kuro said with an unsure glance to the floor. "I don't know my way around here, so any advice-"
"The sign!" Anya shouted, tapping her hand against his shoulder and letting out a huge laugh. "You need to go to the city! And I need to go there too! Fate shines on us! Heart, don't fail me now! Courage, don't desert me!"
Kuro is grabbed by the sleeve as he is then lead down the road by the red haired girl, laughing with her as the two of them begin to make their way towards St. Petersburg. The two of them walked in tandem, Anya's eyes straight and her lips pulled into a wide smile.
"You're awfully cheerful ." Kuro grabbed Dusk as they lagged behind and began to scratch them behind their floppy ears. "Excited to head to the city?"
"Absolutely! It's just… No one ever mentions that the world can feel so vast and huge. St. Petersburg is one of the biggest cities in the union! It has a port and canals and so many beautiful people!" Anya's excitement was palpable, Kuro felt her energy warm up his freezing cheeks and heat up his hands. She was her own sun. Full of warmth and shine. Anya walked with confidence and a sense of intuitive direction, Kuro followed behind her as though she held the map in her very hand. "We are moving forward. Forward to the past."
"What are you saying?" Kuro inquired, raising an eyebrow with a short chuckle. "'Forward to the past.' You're a funny girl."
"Somewhere down this road, I know someone's waiting for me. Years of dreams can't be wrong." Anya threw out her arms, wrapping her massive sleeves along her body as she hugged herself as she walked along. "They'll be there, arms wide open. You'll see!"
"Must be nice to have that. That dream." Kuro said, his eyes focused ahead as her blue eyes cut towards him. Brows furrowed curiously. Kuro cleared his throat and began to explain. "I have a bit of a memory issue. I don't remember much about my younger years."
"Me too!" Anya said, reach over and take hold of his hand and squeezing it with a sense of brotherhood and understanding. Her lithe fingers rubbing against his rough digits. "That feeling of wanting to feel safe and wanted. A place where you can feel like you're finally home. Right where you belong?"
Kuro froze in his spot, her words echoing deep in his chest as he felt the need to feel safe and secure and wanted to ring true throughout his body. He felt those moments when he was amongst Avalanche in those mornings and days spent with them, and very briefly with Naminé as the time the two of them spent together felt the most comfortable he's felt in a long time. An image of her blonde hair, soft nose and blue eyes brought a short smile to his face.
"Home, love, and family. There was once a time we must have had them." Kuro spoke with an underlying yearning to his words, his eyes glistening against the morning sun as the two of them refocused their attention back on the road. "Right?"
"We won't ever be complete until we find them." Anya said as they reached the rising hill that overlooked the great city of St. Petersburg. The golden glow of the city lanterns seemed to flicker and shudder like a dying light against the smog and the dense smoke that lingered above the city streets. Anya didn't look the least disturbed. If anything, Kuro noticed she looked more determined than ever. "Who knows where this road may go. I hope it leads me back to who I was."
The Red Republic
St. Petersburg
Anya and Kuro approach the ticket line of the nearby train station, Kuro handing over Dusk to Anastasia as he begins pawing through his messenger bag to try and find the rest of the munny he has been holding onto for safe keeping. Gesturing with a nudge of the chin for Anya to request the tickets as he does so. She approaches with a spring in her step and her eyes aglow with positive energy and happy thoughts.
"Two tickets to Paris, please." Anya requests, one arm holding up the small Dusk and the other holding up two fingers to the agent behind the stand. She then takes Dusk's chin and shakes their little head. "Unless we need three for my little friend here."
"Exit visas?" The ticket agent requests, extending his hand out to receive the exit visas. His fingers waved for her to hurry.
"Exit visas?" Anya inquired, eyebrows raised as she turned curiously to Kuro. He shrugged, never needing a visa to exit a train station. The closest thing he could relate this to was the IDs back on Midgar. And that world seemed more industrial than this place. Kuro grabbed a baseball sized munny and prepared to offer it to the worker.
"We have munny-" The Heartless began to explain before being rudely interrupted by the worker.
"No exit visa, no ticket!" The Agent slams the small doors in their faces, and hangs a sign in front of his booth that reads, 'People's Lunch Break.' "уходить!"
As if on cue, the other agents in their own booths similarly slam the doors and hang copies of the exact same sign. Kuro growls in annoyance, stuffing the munny back in his messenger bag.
"Perfect." Kuro grumbles, huffing to himself as he rubs his hands over one another. He glances over at Anya, shrugging his shoulders with a low sigh. "How are we going to get to Paris, now?"
"That train was the only way to get there, Kuro." Anya complained, gnashing her teeth together and letting out a short sigh. "Unless you can grow wings."
A woman clad in loose and filthy rags approaches the pair, particularly Anya by taking her by the scarf and pulling her close.
"You wish to get to Paris? See Dimitri … He can help you." She stated in a whisper. Her eyes darted about to ensure no soldiers were in the vicinity.
"Where can I find him?" Anya asked with a tender tone, watching the older woman's eyes glance around and making a note to also lower her voice.
"At the old palace, but you didn't hear it from me." The older woman muttered before turning Anastasia around and patting her on the bottom to speed her up. Kuro follows Anya as the two of them are ushered along. "Go, go, go, go."
"Go find a Dimitri at the old palace." Kuro noted with caution, as he walked alongside Anya. Who begins to walk on in a very specific direction. Already on the trail. "Do you know where the Palace is?
"It's a local landmark. You can't miss it." Anya said with a quick grin and a warm smile. "Come on!"
The Red Republic
The Dilapidated Palace
The windows were boarded up, the frames were singed, leaving these deeply charred black planks of wood and the sound of the occasional crunch of broken glass beneath the boot was met as Kuro approached one of the many barricaded windows. Anya made for the front door and peered through the poorly placed slats. Seeing nothing inside.
"Well, are you sure this is a good idea?" Anya asked, as Kuro approached the window with a quick rub of the hands and halting when heard a little hesitation in her voice. "People died here. Should we trust a guy who squats where like a hundred people died?"
"Trust me. Anyone can squat anywhere. I've squatted in my fair share of places falling apart." Kuro said as he grabbed hold of the window barricade and pulled it off of its nails. Breaking into the once royal home. A few hard pulls, a couple of thrown away boards and the window was cleared all while he continued to talk. "And if Dimitri can get you to Paris, then we need to talk to him. Besides, these people are dead. I think they don't care if we break in."
Kuro jumped on through the open window, his boots crunching some glass beneath his heel. Kuro first noticed how macabre and dark the room was as soon as he jumped in compared to the sun outside. The piece of sun that did peek through the slats and broken pieces of wall shone like radiant beams of pure light. The room was otherwise blanketed in a dense shadow that typical eyes would barely be able to navigate through. His eyes transitioned fast to highlighting the edges and corners of the room. Walking into the gloom of the palace easily enough without a guide. He turned to the window and offered Anya a hand to get inside.
"Why do you want to help me out? What's in it for you?" Anya approached the opening, one hand on the windowsill and the other taking Kuro's hand. The Heartless pulled her through with a quick tug, an arm extended to keep her from slipping and falling. She laughs as she falls crashing into him and nearly knocking him off his feet. "What's your game, Kuro?"
"I don't have a game. I just like helping people." Kuro explained simply enough, as sincerely as he could have said it. "And you remind me a little of myself. Trying to find your place in the world, and not remembering where you came from."
Dusk hopped through without issue, joining Kuro's side as the three people moved up the stairs to the next level of the building. Entering the lobby area of the once grandiose palace. Kuro's eyes followed the bloodstains that surrounded the floor, the rounds from guns implanted into the walls, and the scorch marks from fire that littered the cielings of the halls.
"Hello! Is anyone home!" Anya shouted out into the open air, her voice picking up and echoing throughout the barren halls. She ran up the stairs and hung to the right, approaching a pair of huge imposing doors. They were slightly ajar, and she slipped on through. Kuro and Dusk followed shortly behind.
The grand hall was where the combat was the fiercest, Kuro had immediately noticed. The curtains were burned to barely hanging together loose threads, the walls were noticeably covered in patches of singed wood as though they were hit by fireballs, the floors were covered mostly in dust and blood than they were rug and wooden floor. Kuro walked along to continue inspecting the room, while Anya approached the mantle along the side of the room.
"This place it's … it's like a memory from a dream…" Anya whispers to herself as she glances over to the mantle and notices a vase painted with detailed bears dancing along the face. A flicker of remembrance in her eyes.
~ Dancing Bears ~
~ Painted Wings ~
Kuro watches as the young woman begins to slowly drift across the room and whispers her song, his eyes following the story of the burn marks and scuffed floor marks of ferocity and damage throughout the room. The sight of blades hacking through limbs and hitting the floor, the disruption of fire against the surface and the occasional stripe of blood that stained the wood. He could only imagine the horror that these people have faced in such a short time. The screaming and violence these walls could remark about if they could talk.
~ Things I almost remember. ~
~ And a song someone sings ~
~ Once upon a December ~
As she sings her song, her arms pulling around her chest and squeezing herself tight. Her feet skating across the dust covered floor and prancing around in the open foyer as though she were dancing.
Kuro feels a sharp sting in his head and a sudden burst of heat on his chest. Anya approaches him, takes him by his limp wrist and pulls him into her waltz. Her hand moving to his side and the other taking his hand into proper place.
He stumbles into the box step with Anya being the one who is leading him around, his head aching and his jaw clenched as his right hand tenderly holds Anya's left and his left hand moving to rest along her waist absentmindedly. As the proper hand placement for the dance.
Behind his forlorn sunset eyes, flashing images of his hands covered in thin smeared trails of blood accompanied by wails of a child in pain.
That's when he sees an older woman, with long hazel hair and deep blue eyes, approach him fast. Her hands grabbed at his leg to inspect his banged up knee.
Her soothing coos to stifle Kuro's cries before she cups his cheeks and makes him face her. Her words are voided, her lips shifting and moving but not a sound coming out. Because that didn't matter in this memory.
He remembers how he felt her thumbs tenderly rub his cheek bones sweetly, her breathing was steady and measured, and a young Kuro found himself breathing with her. The breathing, the measured breathing he had done.
It came from his mom trying to calm him down after he crashed his bike. Kuro's eyes became wet, that someone somewhere loved him. That's somewhere, there was a mother who cared for him and cherished him. He let out a laugh of serene joy. He would have to see her. He needed to find her.
~ Someone holds me safe and warm. ~
~ Horses prance through a silver storm. ~
~ Figures dancing gracefully across my memory. ~
Kuro feels another flash that disorients him and recalls one night from his youth. He was young, he was very small, there was a meteor shower that occurred over the island. He glanced over to his right and there was another boy there. He wore a yellow vest, with silver hair and skin not nearly as dark as he currently was. Riku.
That's right. Riku was there, that was that silver boy's name. And in a flash flood of emotion, Kuro felt utter glee. He had remembered. Riku was his best friend. They grew up together, they laughed together, they lived together on the islands.
All Kuro remembers was that he started crying in pure fear when the meteors truly started sailing across the dark skies. He recalled asking Riku, 'What if a shooting star hits the islands?' In response, Riku said, 'If a shooting star comes this way, I'll hit it right back into outer space!' All the while he was swinging a wooden toy sword his father had made for him.
Kuro knew now that Riku could do no such thing, but back back then it meant the absolute world to him. To know that Riku would fight back against the heavens themselves to keep Kuro safe. All he could do was just smile and say, 'Thanks.' Riku solidified his promise by giving Kuro a necklace, with a silver crown that dangled off of the chain. Riku continued by swearing an oath to Kuro, as a fairytale knight would swear. 'From now on, I'll bring you good luck. I'll keep you safe.' And Kuro believed it, every word from that day forward. Kuro had a friend from before, a best friend at that. Another person to start trekking the stars to search for.
~ Someone holds me safe and warm. ~
~ Horses prance through a silver storm. ~
~ Figures dancing gracefully across my memory. ~
Kuro felt his body shudder as he finally got to the next memory. This one feels more recent, his eyes staring out into the setting horizon of his home. And when he turns to speak to his companion, to his surprise it's Kairi. Her brown hair shone in the evening sun shine and her eyes sparkled just the same as the rays of light hit the ocean surface. She remarks that Riku has changed, in ways that Kuro didn't notice then and surely didn't know who.
She asks him to go and leave, 'let's take the raft and go—just the two of us!' Were her exact words.
Kuro is baffled and unable to respond adequately enough. And when she hears his sound of confusion, all she can do is start giggling. It's a sound that ramps up his heartbeat and makes his body feel warmer just by the sound of it. Kairi, she was everything. She responded with a simple, 'Just kidding.'
Kuro laughs it off, asking what's gotten into her? Going as far as to say that she was the one that has changed, not Riku.
Kairi responds with a simple, 'Maybe.' Stating that she was a little afraid of the journey ahead at first, but she feels ready. Saying with security and confidence that, 'No matter where I go or what I see, I know I can always come back here.' She turned to Kuro with a vulnerability to her eyes, her hands squeezing the edges of the wooden planks. She asked for reassurance. Kuro reassured her with an, 'of course!' There was a pause when she spoke, as though she were gathering the courage to continue to speak. When she did… 'Sora, don't ever change.'
Kuro's eyes shot open and his breathing became ragged. He felt his heart come down crashing into the empty pit of his stomach, his eyes growing more confused as he looked over the edge of the dock. He stared into the waters of the ever shifting ocean, his hair was short and spiky brown as opposed to the long heavy silver tone.
His skin was tanned from the sun, not naturally copper toned and dark. His eyes were a bright and inviting blue, not a deep and intimidating shade of orange. His face wasn't his face, it was Sora's. It was all Sora's.
These memories were Sora's that he saw. It was Sora's mom that made him feel so safe, Riku was Sora's best friend that promised to always protect Kuro, and Kairi… Kairi was Sora's everything, not Kuro's. But if Kuro's memories were Sora's…
~ Far away, ~
~ Long ago, ~
~ Glowing dim as an ember, ~
Kuro's hands squeezed Anya's hip and her hand tightly, his eyes bouncing from one corner of the room to the other, his tongue uncomfortable in his mouth and his heart hammering hard in his chest. Anya was too lost in her own imagination to see what was going on with him. It was then he could see it.
'A Keyblade that unlocks people's hearts… I wonder.' Without fear, without worry, he began to walk towards the weapon his friend Riku had just dropped. Much to the confusion of both Donald Duck and Goofy. Kuro stared down at the Keyblade that has this foreign power. Goofy's voice rose, thundering the room and shaking it with his concern. 'Sora! Hold on!' Donald, who he remembered being so temperamental and angry, sounded fearful when he spoke. 'No! Wait!' Kuro had taken up the Keyblade of Heart, with a red handle and an ebony black steel blade, and felt the weight of it. It was light, and slightly warm in his hand. As though it were an extension of his own arm.
Kuro recalled the need to assure his companions, his friends that everything was working out the way it was supposed to. He turned towards his dear friends, and continued to honor the agreement that brought them together on this journey together. This boat ran on happy faces, and he refused to leave them with a frown or a sad face,
Kuro felt his lips be pulled into a smile, one that reminded them that this journey wasn't going to be ended on a look of worry or concern. He was going to save Kairi, why wouldn't he appear happy about it? He loved her, fully and completely.
He had crossed the cosmos and fought against fate to get here, to be here with her. He survived the destruction of his home for her. He eliminated countless Heartless to get here. He even fought Riku to get to Kairi. And if he had to release his heart as he had done with so many Heartless before… It wasn't even a question.
Without hesitation, he proceeded to take that dark blade and pierced his heart with it, freeing Kairi from her unlikely prison. Attempting to save Kairi the only way that he could. Sora's heart was unlocked, and he fell into the dark. Bursting into starlight as he descended into the abyss. Falling to the Keyblade, just as so many had done so before.
'Sora! Sora!' Donald's voice echoed for what felt like eternity, his feet clapping against the floor to rush to his friend's aid.
Even when on the cusp of Darkness, her voice rang through him as though he were a struck bell. Vibrating what was left of his corporeal form with the power and the distress in her tone. He could see out of the corner of his eye her charging form, reaching for him to hold him one last time. Just as she got close enough to grab hold of him, he faded from existence.
The falling into the dark felt as though he were being pulled up into freezing cold waters. It reminded him of the ocean water he would swim in occasionally under the moonlight. The force of his death dragged him deeper and deeper into the dark. His skin had gotten numb, his body entering a state of paralysis as he sank. His fingertips stiffening, his joints locked, and his muscles strained tight as he continued to fall.
'What? What is happening to me?' Sora's voice echoed, fading into the nothing that surrounded him. 'Falling… falling into darkness…'
'Sora, are you really…' He heard her voice in the dark, and it eased his descent to hear her and feel her presence out in the universe somewhere. He released the final, lingering, chest rattling breath. Sora had finally perished. His vision went blank, his mouth becoming dry and his blood stopped pumping. Freezing the beating of his once strong heart. All he had left his hearing.
'Yes, Kairi… I'm gone. I'm just glad you're safe…' Was what Sora's final thought in the everpresent dark. That thought echoing in his skull as it would if it were shouted in a canyon. Droning on and on for eternity. Repeating over itself until it became garbled up nonsense in his ears.
'No! He can't be! I won't let him go!' It was the sound of the need in her voice. It was her refusal to accept Sora's fate. It was the love that she held for him that echoed out into the eternity that surrounded him now. It rang through his body, down to his core.
It was her love that jump started Kuro's heartbeat. His eyes shot open, his hands fought against the fast acting rigor mortis and honed on the adrenaline that was coursing through his system. It was as though he were struck by lightning, and he knew he couldn't leave her to this fate. He would fight his way back to her, he would return to her.
Kuro began to fight from out of the dark, spinning away from the pull of the dark and crawling against the ever present current. It came crashing down on him like the flow of an ever increasing river. But it didn't matter. Even if he had to crawl, he would get back to Kairi.
It was then there was a flash of shimmering light. Enough that it was blinding, so blinding that his vision blacked out.
In the darkness brought on by the light, he felt the cool metal beneath his cheek. Out of the darkness behind his eye, he was awoken to the sound of Kairi's voice calling him a lazy bum and beckoning for him to get up.
~ Things my heart ~
~ Used to know ~
~ Things it yearns to remember ~
"Kuro?" Xion's voice came out in shock, the sound of her boots knocking against the floor as she stood two landings above the Heartless. Her majestic weapon in hand as she heard the sound of a wooden barricaded window being busted open and had assumed the worst.
There she stood, her eyes squinted in confusion at the sight of the Heartless. Peering down at the silver haired man as he turned to face her. He lets go of Anya, who's feet carry her across the floor. Twirling an invisible hem of a beautiful imaginary dress as she dances with an invisible figure. Kuro is left standing in the center of the once grand palace floor with locked knees and his shoulders tense.
His unfocused staring was pinned to his friend ahead of him as his revelation washed over him. Kuro's orange eyes flicker in acknowledgment as he slowly averts his gaze from the raven haired organization member to the weapon she carried.
That's when he sees the Keyblade in her hand. Kuro stood as though the weight of the world was bearing down on his shoulders. Spreading his feet shoulder length apart to keep himself stable, back straight and hands held at his sides. It was then he saw the flashing images of Sora taking the very same powerful blade and driving back scores of Heartless with it.
Combating the darkness with determination and courage. Fighting for his friends and those that he loved. Kuro, with curiosity and a sense of purpose, had begun to slowly raise his hand towards her. Eyeing that blade in her hand with a covetous glint in his stare.
Let the Keyblade choose its true master.
~ And a song someone sings ~
That voice that echoed in Kuro's skull belonged to someone very important to him. Xion, who could see his hand begin to rise, then felt the Keyblade begin subtly being pulled from her hand. Pulling towards the Heartless. It trembled in her hand, as though it were being drawn by a magnet in Kuro's palm. Xion swung the blade to grab hold of the barrel of the blade to gain a better grip and keep it from being pulled away from her. She refused to be Dusk'd. Her and Roxas were the only ones who could release Hearts. She needed her Keyblade.
She grunts as she struggles, feet skating across the floor briefly only for the Keyblade to burst into a twinkling starlight and disappear from her hand. The momentum of her pulls dragging her onto her back as her shoulders knock against the floor. The resounding slam echoing in the hall.
Xion's heart sunk into her stomach, her eyes going wide as she saw her purpose, the thing that made her vital to the Organization literally deteriorate in her grasp. The weight of the blade made her feel lighter in the worst possible way.
It reappeared in Kuro's. Its silver teeth and cylinder barrel shone when it caught the sun that peeked through the blinds, with its golden guard and black leather handle. The keychain with the three circles at the end of it.
His body felt the hum of pure and powerful energy as it materialized in his hands.
His eyes glistened in confusion and terror as he stared into the shining metal of the Keyblade. The Keyblade. Sora's Keyblade. His Keyblade. His Keyblade.
He sunk down to the floor as though his knees were kicked out from behind, his eyes fixed to Xion as a single thought echoes inside his mind and leaves him feeling utterly confused.
In the reflection of his orange hued gaze in the weapon when he turns to inspect the blade, a glimmered flickering blue irises in its metal. Kuro felt a numbness wash over him as he sunk harder and harder into the floor.
The weight of this revelation begins to drag his shoulders to the floor, so much so he uses the Keyblade to support his body and keep him sitting upright. As he was falling forward. His hands placed over one another under the flat bottom handle of the blade. He slowly rests his forehead against the cool golden metal guard along the handle.
His memories are becoming as clear as they were racing, as though the dam in his mind had finally been destroyed and allowed the river of his memories to flow through without a steady flow. All of the flashes of years that he didn't recall, of hands that he never held, of hugs that he never received, of statements of gratitude and love that were never meant for him. It all compounded into a single statement that echoed in his mind like a hammer striking an anvil. Rattling him to his core with every single punctuating hit. His grew dim, and his lips were curled into a nauseating scowl.
"I'm… I'm Sora's Heartless."Kuro whispers to himself, eyes glistening as sits befuddled in the middle of the room. Anya's song comes to its end as she hugs herself and settles along the floor. The images behind her eyes fade as she solemnly sings the final chorus.
~ Once upon a December ~