In which Sora and Nemurin put their plan into action...
Quorra's disc screamed with a technical riff as it weaved through the air, cutting down the last Nightmare to be purified. They'd been down here longer than intended, but chances were it would have been more of a grind if they'd fought through without Ideal Top Speed's help - indeed, Quorra had been a little puzzled when told the witchy-looking girl's name, and when she noticed the distinction Nemurin persistently made to refer to her as 'Ideal', but decided for now not to question it. She'd bring it up later when they actually had the time to - because for now, the goal was in sight.
All they had to do now was enter the Throneship, locate Tron's source code, and then return Rinzler to the way he was before. The uncertainty of anticipation gargled within their guts, leaving a rather unpleasant sensation behind, each nerve relentlessly on edge, but they supposed that was only normal with the gravity of their mission, particularly for Sora. With the last of their enemies, at least, those that were once Nightmares, leaving for the unknown, they could take a breath in, though only for the moment. Up ahead, 'Ideal' Top Speed flew above the five of them atop her broom, a catlike smile present on her face. She supposed it fit her aesthetic since apparently, black cats were common friends of witches, according to a few of the books she'd read where they appeared - though they weren't particularly common in the ones that Quorra frequented, her interests always leaning more towards adventures within the real world rather than that of unreality.
Stretching slightly, Nemurin allowed herself to take in a wide range of air, taking a second or two to rise. Still good to go - she could still feel the magic flowing in her, and that was what mattered. She could still be helpful here, and that was what she liked. Sure, she liked her sleep and her layabouts, but not when someone else genuinely needed her help: why else would she have become a Magical Girl if not to help in a way that only she could do?
"Woah, that was so cool, Top Speed!" Sora complimented, his fists clenched loosely.
"Pfhahaha~ Thanks!" the girl on the broom answered, flippantly, but not lacking in gratitude. "So, d'ya want me to keep guard out here? Follow after ya in case this thing takes off?"
"Yeah~ That would help a lot, thanks~" Nemurin answered, gently. "I'll pay you back sometime, y'know~"
"Ahh, don't sweat it," Top Speed shrugged. "I don't worry 'bout that sorta' thing. Anyways, see ya when you come outta there, and good luck with your friend!"
"Thank you," Quorra smiled, offering a polite bow of the head, before turning to Sora and Nemurin. Morgana stood up on all fours, stance stiff, as if ready for a fight, while Sheppy remained close to Nemurin, watching around for any more enemies. "Ready for this...?" she asked, a gravity edging its way into her vocals.
"I am," Nemurin answered, before looking to Sora. "Are...are you ready for this?" she checked.
Sora's face was more severe, but not necessarily with dread, but rather with purpose. His head turned to them and then nodded. "Yeah. Let's do this. Let's bring Tron back."
With that said, the elevator ascended, and their figures rose atop of it, eventually going out of sight, while the other Magical Girl silently watched. Eventually, she went out of view, and their eyes were assaulted with an intense amount of bright orange, Clu's coded colour, apparently. The ship's chamber was somewhat bare, and yet still possessed a stateliness to it, a door twice their height standing solidly behind them, blocking them into this one room, while the area up ahead led forward into what looked like some form of a corridor. Each side of the room was vaulted up to a degree and had a small set of steps that led up to what looked like some form of seating before a large keyboard, and the end of the 'corridor' led to a door that was currently slid shut, all of it rather lifeless - the only reason you'd consider this room alive was because of how incessant the lighting was.
Squinting her eyes a bit, Nemurin felt her heart drop ever so slightly but did her best not to let that thought reach her face. She hoped those doors weren't as sealed up as they looked, that was for sure, as though she was pretty sure the stuff in here had its purposes, it didn't look ideal for storing things - well, things other than data specifically, but that was an area she was pretty unfamiliar with. She was a NEET who occasionally liked a relaxing round of Starmist Vale or Tiny Large Universe, not a hacker, and thinking deeper, she didn't imagine that any of her fellow Magical Girls were familiar with that sort of thing either - and those that could be weren't likely to respond to a call for help in the short time they had available, especially when she couldn't say for sure if any of them had a clue about it.
The group began to scavenge the room, looking high and low in each corner, hands even pressing against the walls in hopes there might be a secret button or lever that could reveal a new room or its hiding place. They patrolled a side of the room, Quorra in the middle, Nemurin to the left and Sora to the right, with their Dream Eaters peeking into corners and scratching about in hopes of finding anything of interest in the meantime. After a lack of success, they would then swap in hopes the others might see something they somehow hadn't. By the seventh time Nemurin had ducked underneath the computer, or was told once again that there was no access available, she could feel that part of her heart drop just that bit deeper. Her eyes stayed away from Sora for now - both to avoid confirming to herself if the same impression had fallen upon him or if he was still as hopeful as when they came in, and particularly, if it was the latter, to not bring him down any. A minute passed, then another and another, but no door opened, and no matter how Quorra tried to interact with the computers, no hints were coming from there either, and going in any deeper would be a task made difficult by it not being her system, or her base of operations, not without getting caught anyways.
An unsteady silence had descended upon the team, as a silent agreement seemed to along with it. Tron's source code wasn't here, and unless they could find a way into whatever lay in the next room, they'd come to a dead end.
"It's not in here..." Quorra finally stated, albeit with a certain weight to her tone, one of unhappiness with the revelation. "Do you think..." she started, before shaking her head and rephrasing herself, "No, maybe Clu has it with him. We should look elsewhere,"
Sora stepped down from the left side of the room, "Alright," he agreed - his voice had been made gentler, perhaps by the small hints of disappointment, but they weren't too strenuous on him, or at least it didn't sound that way or look it.
And then, the two metallic doors slid open without warning.
Like marionettes jolted into action by an unknown puppeteer, their heads snapped towards the sound - and they were once again faced with an unfortunately familiar lone body. Rinzler. Just like before, a certain sense of death seemed to radiate off of him now, like that of the identity that had been stolen away from him, that which he'd been twisted into forgetting by only a few inputs of code. None of them knew what expression lay underneath his helmet if there was even one at all, even as he stared them down. Morgana bristled a little, quickly hopping from the corner she had retreated to, now appearing like an attack dog before Sora as she recognised the figure he'd clashed blades with - only to be surprised by Sora's gesture, the gesture to calm down. Sheppy snuggled tight at Nemurin's legs as if scared this next plan would undo her on the spot, but she simply knelt and gave a reassuring scratch behind his ears.
"Okay..." Quorra breathed out. She held her disc tightly, but slowly eyed Sora and Nemurin with the uncertainty that came with the faith she'd need to put into them. "It's down to you two now."
"Tron." Sora began, a sense of firmness present, albeit one not devoid of kindness, not in the slightest. "I want you to listen to me - you can do what it is you need to after that, and so will we. But please...listen to us, just for this, okay?"
Silence, but no movement either - that was at least better than the alternative.
"I know...I know you might not be the same as the one I knew, but any version of Tron there is, I consider my friend. I know now, that Clu did something to mess with your memory."
Nemurin stepped forward almost delicately, extending her pale palms slightly below her chest, before pushing them out slowly. In the space between her two hands, a glowing shape took form, glowing with soft white light, one that glinted against the surface of Rinzler's helmet, one his eyes seemed to be fixed on, even if just for the moment. But that moment would be enough for what they sought to do, for what they wanted to offer.
Thump, thump thump.
Something linked inside of her - that same white light that nobody else could see emanating off her figure and off of Sora's. The Magical Girl, with the power to enter dreams, and the dreamer with the Keyblade who came here to awaken everyone from a deep, unforgiving sleep. That link was formed and tightened, and locked in place with a gentle touch; the glowing shape floated away from her hands, and into the centre of the room, enlargening to reveal a series of moving images.
No, not moving images. Memories. Sora's memories.
Meeting and allying with one another for the first time.
Battling alongside each other, saving one another from harm in equal shares throughout their journey.
The victory they acquired through each other's help.
His old self hugging his newfound companions as a goodbye.
And for that moment, Rinzler still stared; but something moved him. His hand slowly twitched at his side, yet did not unveil the two deadly discs he now wore at his back. One hand did rise, but to his head, as if feeling something stirring from within, perhaps...? But what struck them most was how his other hand seemed to go forward, albeit little by little - he was reaching out to the memories in front of them. Neither wondered what went through his mind that prompted it, for that didn't matter. The memories glowed alight with nostalgia as warm as a summer smile, pulsing like one's own heartbeat. Rinzler, or Tron, or either or neither, took a step forward. And then another, and another smaller still.
"Tron..." Sora began, his voice not wavering, yet still like a newly lit candle, bright, warm, yet somehow retaining a softness only he could manage, one that came with something that struck so close. "Do you...do you remember...?"
Because I do, and I always will. No matter what darkness finds me...I won't forget. And I know you haven't forgotten either, not really. Not the part of that's still you.
And then, in a flash of what almost seemed to be violet smoke, the moment was lost. It clouded briefly over his chest, so temporary they almost thought it could have been a trick of the light - but such thoughts were dashed to dust as the discs were soon ripped right off his back, both cutting painfully through the air, the glowing ring of memories that had floated in the centre of the room diced along with it, each image, each moment now scattered and lost in the empty air. The discs broke their way through, aiming straight for Sora's head, Nemurin's silhouette quickly colliding with the boy's as they tumbled to the ground - and a ribbon of red subsequently sprayed through the space, dropping into a small puddle of crimson. It was small, but it was there. Morgana and Sheppy bowled forward, the latter bleating so high and loud it rattled like a scream, Morgana bouncing upward before the other disc reached them, sending it flying back. Quorra's gut had dropped the second she saw Rinzler throw his attack, and she waited not a moment too soon to sprint before them, a weak groan of pain escaping from her companions as she pulled her weapon free, and sent it ripping through the sky. At the sight of it, Rinzler leapt upwards in order to dodge it, allowing himself to land slightly off the side of the wall.
With a heavy heart, Quorra professed, "Sora...I'm sorry. Really, I am...but..." she caught her disc, glaring Sora's former friend down, just as he had done at the beginning. "I don't think Rinzler is quite the friend you remember."
Grasping the disc as it returned to her, she bolted forward for the open door, hoping to at least buy the others some time to recuperate. Just as Sora managed to lift his head, he cried out, "Tron, stop!"
It was now his turn to reach out, feebly, as the doors shut - seconds before Rinzler was about to land a brutal-looking hit on their friend. With one final merciless snap, the doors closed and locked. For a moment, the blue-eyed boy could only stare at those doors, as one question filled his mind, but one he couldn't voice.
Before he could gain an answer to that question, he saw it. As he began to stand, he saw it.
Red.
Red.
That was what Sora saw next - red, red brutally dyed into a surface that once been a gentle, unhurt yellow, just around the area of Nemurin's shoulder. The slash was small, but he couldn't remove his eyes from the blood. He tried to remember, he tried to remember if anything else so far had left her with anything like that prior, but he found nothing there in the depths of his memory.
Was that why it didn't work...? Were his memories not strong enough?
Did he falter? He didn't feel like he had, but he couldn't know for sure.
And now because of that, Nemurin had taken the blow for him. She rose slowly, a pale white hand pressing flat against the metallic, cold floor, one of her eyes half-shut. "Hey...you okay?" she asked, a gasp releasing from her as she frantically searched the room for Quorra, and for Rinzler, finding neither. "N-no! Where did they..." she began, turning herself around, only to feel her body droop as it realised they were both gone.
The two went for the doors, in the hope they could open them; a hope they held in vain, for no matter how they pressed or pried, it was locked from the outside. Sora's head hung, a pang of melancholy echoing throughout him, worry flickering in his eyes as he looked at Nemurin. His mouth moved to speak, but she beat him to it.
"I'm really sorry, Sora..." the blonde-haired girl almost seemed to whisper. She allowed her hair to fall before her eyes, blocking his view of her face. "That it didn't work..."
"H-hey, don't be." Sora cut in, but not harshly, putting a hand to her non-bloodied shoulder. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the one who brought us here, and now..." he began, with it being his turn to avert her eyes.
His other hand fell weakly at his chest, and hovered there, even as the engine of the ship jolted, prompting weak gasps from the pair of them. Morgana whined in sympathy, brushing gently against his legs, not even startled by the ship's sudden eruption. Sheppy's eyes flicked between the two, but fell most often on Nemurin, on her injury, on the sadness in their eyes, his own almost seeming to be asking what he could do for them.
It was then, then that Sora finally voiced his question, expecting it would only reach Nemurin and the Spirits that accompanied them. "Tron...why...?"
"That's what we do." another voice answered - but not the one they wanted, no, the last one they wanted in the world. Morgana's softness quickly sharpened once again, alternating between a hiss and a bark as she gave the best deathly stare a being such as herself could manage, Sheppy yelping in alarm.
No, why right now!?
As Sora's eyes now flitted with disbelief, nigh outrage that he had to show up now of all times, the figure in the black coat continued. "Put the most precious memories in the back of our minds where they're safe."
"Not you again!" Sora shouted instinctively, readying himself into a battle stance.
"Get...get lost already..." Nemurin sighed, though it was almost like a grumble. Irritation dripped out the edges of her tone, a hand subconsciously doing her best to shield her shoulder from his view.
Too late for that. The figure's lips were already beginning to tip into something of a self-satisfied smirk, the type most would say they wanted to punch the lights out of. "Or, in your case..." he trailed off, as if in thought, but really, something about this had the Magical Girl suspecting he'd rehearsed this, at least to a degree. "The most precious hearts?"
His gold eyes landed on the Magical Girl, and his expression remained the same as he remarked, "I know little of your sort; but I thought that this was your dominion, was it not?" he asked, in a fashion near mockery. "I would have thought that such pathetic injuries would be beneath you."
"Hey, back off!" Sora glared, putting an arm in front of Nemurin, as if to defend her physically as well as verbally, but the blonde Magical Girl shook her head.
"Don't...I can handle him," she whispered in assurance, before looking towards their enemy. Oh, yeah...?" Nemurin retorted, eyebrows furrowing in disdain. "I would have thought that working with people like Frollo and Clu would be beneath you, but I guess we're both wrong on that, huh?"
"I have no reason to explain myself to you - it would be the same as explaining myself to the dead." the silver-haired youth claimed.
Personally, Nemurin found it pretty ironic for him to say that when he was the one with the cold dead eyes.
"You don't get to call someone dead while they're still here," Nemurin said, giving another shake of the head. Sure, she wasn't as strong as she used to be, and sure...she'd been using a lot more magic here than usual, but that didn't mean she wasn't here. She wasn't in the real world anymore, but her soul stayed here, and that wasn't nothing.
"Perhaps not - but just for how long will that apply?" the male retorted, all while eyeing her bloodied shoulder, the dulled tips of her hair, the bags under her eyes.
That...was one question Nemurin wasn't sure how to answer, and as much as she hated it, it showed, earning her a simple scoff in reply.
"What are you even talking about!?" Sora demanded though the uncertainty in his eyes was hard to miss during his brief glance at Nemurin. Not that she could blame him, she supposed...this guy more or less implied she was dead...
And what weirded her out was the fact that he technically wasn't incorrect. By the standards of her world, she was as good as dead - by most people's judgments, she was a ghost. A spectre left to wander a specific plane that they could not leave. And even when it first happened, that part of it hadn't unsettled her - the implications behind it all did, but the fact she could do nothing about it was something her mind had forced her to accept ever since then. So why...why did it leave her with a chill she couldn't shake as she thought about it now?
"The memory and heart are tightly linked." another voice joined the conversation, one Nemurin didn't know - but Sora most certainly did, his face as if he had just seen a dead person rise from their grave right in front of him.
"Xe...Xemnas!?" he nearly sputtered, eyes large with shock at the sight of the figure.
"Who!?" Nemurin questioned, the confusion in her voice achingly apparent.
"Rub a few memories together...and you get a spark of emotion, a feeling. In some instances, such things can be enough to hold what's left of a person together, even when all else abandons them." 'Xemnas' rambled on, clearly not bothered one bit by the puzzlement his appearance had generated, "But memory doesn't work that way in a digital world. Nothing is ever felt."
"That's not true!" Sora argued back, his voice still strangled by intense disbelief. "I know from my memories that you're lying. I know that Tron...Tron had something," he stated.
It wasn't just Tron either - Quorra had something too, he had felt it as they conversed and chatted like friends with her, even people who had attempted to hurt them like Gem and Castor, they had something instinctively human about their natures, self-serving though they might have been.
"But, was it feeling? Or just a convincing copy? Here, data can be copied, manipulated, and changed down to its very core for the designs of someone else. Your...friend will not know of this, and so I will remind you, that my master once discovered an old system and used it for his own ends. This world is but a copy of that system, and nothing more." Xemnas stated, coldly.
"Tron...he is a digital entity...so, why would he be any different?" he questioned further. A smirk seemed to play across his face now, one that put both of them on edge. "And what about you, Sora? Your heart, memories, dreams, data...all of that which you say is yours - how do you know for certain that you couldn't end up like Rinzler? Or that they're not just copies of someone else's?"
"You're...you're wrong," Sora refused. "You're wrong - my memories, my feelings, they belong to me! I won't end up like Rinzler-"
"And we won't let anyone end up like him either." Nemurin joined him, as if offering solidarity. She couldn't tell what part of her felt such an instinct to say it, but it was there nevertheless, as natural as raising your shield to deflect an incoming blow in the heat of battle.
Xemnas turned away from the two of them, and a dark portal appeared before him. "I wouldn't be so sure," he concluded. "After all...you have been chosen,"
"Wait, what does that mean?" Nemurin's thoughts allowed her to whisper, only for her to realise Xemnas was already exiting through the dark portal. "Hey!" she called out in protest, one that was swiftly disregarded as the portal collapsed into a mist of black and purple shadows.
"Chosen...for what...?" Sora repeated, eyes lacking understanding of whatever that was supposed to imply. But the uncertain frowns on their faces, the creases in their brows, that feeling of tightening in their guts, all of it agreed that whatever it was supposed to mean, they didn't like the sound of it one bit.
Nemurin thought, and then the words slipped out of her in a whisper - "I think...that's the sorta thing we don't want to know."
She didn't know what prompted it - all she knew was that it was one of those things you simply didn't want to find out the results of. Before she could think any more of it over though, she spotted the dark silhouette of the silver-haired man approaching again. Her arm curved straight, acting as a blockade between him and Sora. Still, every essence in her chest felt like it was being strained beyond measure with each strenuous movement like it was squeezing at her lungs, like it was pulling them all over the place.
Like she couldn't breathe again, signalled subtly by the quiet whistled wheeze that came with each steady rise and fall of her chest.
For a few moments, the figure made eye contact with her in uncomfortable, tense silence.
"Oh, but you will."
And that was when the doors suddenly opened up behind them. Unforgiving wires of wind pulled against the group where they stood, scratching and biting against their skin even with the protection of their armour, even as their arms instinctively rose to protect their faces, all while anything that flowed even slightly flailed everywhere in wild panic. The wailing of the cold blasts that persistently beat against them was such a persistent screech, Sora nor Nemurin could even hear themselves think, and barely what anyone else in the room had to say either, just the persistent hissing of cutting gales that tore about them every second - but that stood tiny next to the battle to try and remain planted firmly on the ground. The Spirits' main mode of transport was useless, and Morgana struggled to not tumble out of the sudden opening, Sora having to outright kneel in order to hold her with his arm, Sheppy bleating timourously at the sudden sensation, almost gnawing at Nemurin's pyjama leg in an attempt to not be thrown out entirely, ducking his head in a desire to hide away from all of this. One of Sora's eyes squeezed shut, the other trying to regain his bearings; all while the guy in the black coat just...stood there - the tails of his coat and hair flapped in the wind, but that was the only indicator he was even still here at all.
"You have no idea where you are, do you, Sora?" the figure questioned.
No, he knew. He was in the Grid. He was in the Sleeping Worlds, he had to be. He was here, he was here, he knew where he was. He had to know that, he had to know where he was.
"You have no idea how you've already fallen so astray from the path that there is no returning..." the figure continued, ignoring his lack of an answer. "No matter who you reach out to, no matter who you ask for help from in return...none of it will matter."
"Shut...shut up!" Nemurin cried out - attempting to call upon her magic once again, her strength, even just to land a physical hit - only to be met with something she didn't expect.
A Keyblade pointed in her direction; a jagged, sharp unforgiving thing that cast some form of elemental spell - one second her hit had been about to land- the next, an aching pain surged through her gut and stung in each nerve she had, her hands falling around it as her body tumbled and dropped until there was no more surface beneath her to support it. The reflexes that came so quickly to her were only moments off, as the last shred of the surface of the ship was only centimetres away from her fingers.
A few more, and she might have been able to catch herself at the end and pull herself back up, but a few more she did not have. And it was because of those few seconds that she fell.
Like a body tied to a rock in an ocean, she fell for what felt like forever, her heart surging in panic from the unknown, all the pieces of the unknown that had been presented to her, the tips of a voice calling out her name echoing throughout her mind. She could see now as she fell, the tips of her hair had dulled to a dark brown rather than their usual pink, and the magic she felt flowing through her before was escaping her. No matter how many times she called out to it, no matter how many times she wanted to scream for its name, it refused her.
She had fallen - she was going to keep falling, and there was nothing she could do but wait for collision.
A/N: And there we go! Not gonna lie, the first half of this has probably been my favourite part to write in a while, more specifically the whole bit with Tron before things went shit-shaped, so I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. The bit with the Norts was a bit harder, namely because of the whole 'what do I keep and what do I add' and because Young Xehanort is an insufferable prick. Le sigh...ah well, that's it done at least!~ Thanks again to all who've reviewed, and I'll see you next chapter!