Chapter 56: Origami Conquest

After being pestered by an endless array of excessively cordial colors, the group had returned to the observatory, greeted by an inexpressive, pallid void. Fable gazed at the mirrors; another shawl of darkness had been unraveled from the next mirror. It should've been a time to savor the delectable taste of accomplishment; their path towards the goal seemed less crooked and lopsided.

Yet, the latest litany of memories they inadvertently attended put a damper on their respite of satisfaction. They had been allocated spreadsheets containing equivocal formulas that would prove tiresome to solve.

Sora began perusing through each column, as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Another conversation. How weird.

"I'll say," Fable said. Her eyes had been crusted with cringe. "Sounded like something out of a 90's teen drama. All of that whining is reminding of De Void." They then widened as the revelation was thrusted against them like a dart. "No. It can't be."

"What is it?" Sora asked, as both he and Mario turned to her with sudden, zealous intrigue.

"What if we're viewing De Void's memories?" Fable said, in postulation. "She must've created these cores."

Sora scanned the spreadsheet again. A coherent equation started to form like building blocks. "Hmm, make sense. After all, these conversations have been consistent." This created a small steppingstone of possibility. "Maybe it'll help us figure out how she ended up this way."

"Ahh, something we can use to our advantage," Fable said with aroused delight. "Not a bad idea for an outsider."

"Hey!" Sora said, offended.

"Just kidding," Fable said, laughing.

This was a shred of good news that could open a fatal weakness in De Void's hard coated shell of darkness. Sometimes trigging an important memory can make a person vulnerable, as they're weighted down by sentimental luggage. It might be their answer to success.

Sora pressed his tongue against his right cheek, scavenging through a pensive foliage. "Strangely enough, I kinda identify with her."

"How so?" Fable asked. "You're not whiney at all."

"I don't mean like that. Defying her parents? Wanting to see a new world? That's what my friends and I were planning to do." Sora's mind leaned in heavily on those pleasant images. "We built a raft, and were going to set sail – leaving our family and friends behind in the process." His face was casted in a sullen haze. "Circumstances still forced us off the island."

"Are you saying you regret your journey?"

"Not at all," Sora said, not even dignifying a hint of hesitation. "But, when we made that raft, I was thickheaded like De Void." The haze returned, growing thicker like bland soup. "It never occurred to me how much I'd miss my family and friends." He looked out towards the void, brooding; it didn't warrant an empathetic response. "And sometimes I still wonder if I'll ever see them again."

Fable found it difficult to relate with Sora's plight – once again, due to spending her life in the observatory, as a spectator forever bound to cold, lonely bleachers, denied the privilege of participating in the world's stadium. But she gazed into Sora's face: despondent droplets sent ripples right into her core. She was saturated with a splash of guilt.

But Mario didn't want to leave Sora stranded on a ruminating island, lamenting his mistakes; and not just because he needed everyone attentive and upbeat on this journey. Mario peered into the optimistic polish of life's looking glass; he never wanted smears of sadness to form on it. Whenever his friends were crestfallen, he would pepper them with uplifting spices.

He placed an encouraging hand on Sora's shoulder, and Fable translated his words: "Mario says that everyone's going to have that period of defiance. But the question is: how are you going to deal with the consequences it entails?"

Sora opened the words like a map, scrutinizing every fine detail for their meaning. Not a day went by where his belief in reuniting with Riku and Kairi was tossed about like a ship during a storm. Sometimes it seemed difficult. Others timed it seemed plausible. It was frustrating, and a bit disheartening, to be impeded in an indecisive fog.

Yet, he saw a hopeful pink glow upon the horizon, and it ferried the immortal, halcyon image of the three of them on their island. He wanted to reach out and embrace it with intense desire. It was a reminder that kept him trudging through the uncertain bog with optimistic boots.

"By making everything go back to normal," Sora said, strapping on his confidence. "I don't how I'll do it, but there's an answer out there. I've gotta hold onto hope, that's all."

Mario smiled; Fable translated: "Good on you. I know you can do it! But your words also give me hope for this world's future.

"As do I," Fable said, as herself. "Let's continue to be a pain in De Void's backside, huh?"

Sora grinned, having shed off a layer of doubt. "That I have no trouble doing."

"Then onwards to adventure!" Fable said, enthusiastic.

With their spirits clamoring with renewed determination, they ventured through the next mirror.

Unfortunately, Fable regressed into a wilted flower of fear upon arriving at the next location. It was the eerie forest Luigi was meandering through like a frightened mouse in a maze. Even Sora found this place unpleasant; it was the opposite of Port Prisma's beaming, happy-go-lucky smile. Gloom had been planted within the soil, blooming into a world that forbade joy and strident colors.

Tall trees loomed over them with dark green leaves. Some were even pitch black, with a red outline serving as the only source of color. Sora looked towards a field on his left; a plethora of silhouetted bushes sat in miserable silence, unable to greet him with a wave from the cold, listless air.

The sky and horizon were covered with a heavy blanket of purple haze. Strange light blue interconnected lines had been etched into the haze's fabric. This place was about as friendly as restless, ravenous crocodiles hosting a pool party for their victims in the swamp. Yet, something about its strange appearance fascinated Sora. It wasn't natural, as if not meant to exist in the real world – an anomaly one couldn't see with the naked eye.

But Fable couldn't give a flimsy bookmark about its strange beauty. She was fastened by a seatbelt of anxiety, and refused taking the straps off to drop her guard.

Her eyes continued darting left and right, on alert. "Man, how does Luigi endure these types of creepy places? My nerves are on edge."

"Endure?" Sora asked, with a raised eyebrow. "You haven't watched many of Luigi's adventures, have you?"

"Probably not," Fable said. Curiosity peeked through the uneasy straps. "Why?"

"No reason," Sora said. "Just…'endure' might not be the right word to use."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sounds of bushes rustling. Fable hid behind Mario, tightening the belt further, shivering in absolute dread. Sora and Mario prepared for battle, as a feeling of tension scrunched up their stomachs like paper (And yes, the irony in that simile has been acknowledge).

"Oh! I hate this!" Fable said, in dismay. She peeked out from behind Mario. "What if that was a monster?"

"Then it better not make the mistake of showing us its ugly mug," Sora said, smirking. "Otherwise, we're gonna make it look worse. Just leave it to use! We'll keep you safe!"

She glanced at Mario, who responded with a firm, assuring nod. Some of the trepid leaves started falling off, making her feel light with minute relief. She knew there was nothing to worry about with these two at her side. "O-Okay. If you say so."

"Mario, you stay here and cuddle up with this good book," Sora said. "I'll see who's causing the commotion."

As Sora started inching towards some rustling bushes, Fable and Mario gave each other blank stares, as if their mind went numb from the immense pressure of that joke.

"We're all going to die, aren't we?" Fable asked. Mario frowned in response. She looked down in guilt. "Sorry. That horrid joke dried up all my confidence."

Sora took light steps, giving the ground a gentle massage as he grew closer towards the bushes. The rattling did not cease; whatever awaited behind the foliage was restless, eager to shred Sora's paper-like body into confetti. Adrenaline made his heart bounce like a basketball. Not even the chilling air kept sweat from escaping his pores.

Suddenly, three Heartless leaped out from the bushes, startling the boy. He prepared the Keyblade for battle. Although he noticed something peculiar about them. They were folded like origami, appearing in three dimensions. One was a Shadow, the other was Soldier, and the last one was a Shield Heartless.

Sora raised an eyebrow. "Y'know, I think the Heartless are taking this whole 'paper' thing to extreme levels now. Not to mention, reminding me that I'm terrible at origami." He was a bit sad. "Why must my past failures continue to mock me?"

Mario's eyes widened in shock, and he conveyed an alarming observation to Fable. She was taken aback, receiving the same bite of surprise. "No. It couldn't be. I thought he no long existed due to folding himself up."

"Guys!" Sora said, frantic. "Mind if we continue this conversation after!? I'd be nice to partake in it if I can keep my mouth from being shredded by the Heartless."

Nodding in agreement, Mario stored the thought in a cupboard of his mind, and hurried to join Sora. Fable hid behind one of the trees (despite its long, slender, intimidating presence), and began consulting with herself on the Origami Heartless' appearance in petrified silence. Although the Heartless still acted like their original incarnations, every attack was far sharper, dealing significant damage.

But the two once again ignored the pain from spouting obscenities in their receptors, ruining concentration. Soon, the two were able to discover a blemish within the Heartless' grand design; their bulk made movement slower, giving Sora and Mario ample time to block an incoming attack, reducing any damage.

Receiving an encouraging pat on the back from this discovery, the two took little time in disposing the Heartless. Mario pulled out a blue block with the words "POW" engraved in the middle, and gave it a hard punch, sending a shockwave through the ground, making the grass tremble in disarray. The Heartless were laying on their backs like defenseless turtles, rocking back and forth, unable to recover from the paralyzing shock. Sora leaped into the air, showering them with the destructive gift of his spiral attack; and they reciprocated the merciless gesture by vanishing from existence.

With the commotion hushed by the swift swish of Sora's blade, everyone regrouped. The boy let his finger traverse the vast, spiked hedge maze of his hair. "Man. That was tough. They say it's never too late to learn something new. Well, I'd like to tell off the guy who coined it. I'll never dabble in origami again." He turned to the others. "But it sounds like you might know why the Heartless took this new form?"

"Well," Fable said, exchanging a dubious glance with Mario, "we might have a working theory. See, not too long ago, Mario had to save the Mushroom Kingdom from this guy called King Olly, who turned many Toads into origami out of resentment for them."

"Man, Mario," Sora said, exhaling in astonishment. "Don't you ever get a break?"

Mario raised a hand. Fable translated: "Well, sometimes a piece of the princess' cake perks him up."

"Erm, well…that's nice and all," Sora said, in disbelief, while still retaining a polite expression, "but may I suggest something a bit more than a spike in blood sugar. My mentor has plenty of books on his shelf. Maybe one of them leads to a tropical island." He paused, reflecting on his own advice. "Actually, that's not a bad idea."

Fable looked excited. "Ooh! And we can get the drinks with the little umbrellas in it!"

"But how can you drink them without a mouth?" Sora asked, puzzled.

Fable narrowed her gaze. "Please let me divulge in my hopeless fantasies without interpellation." Shifting the conversation back into first gear, she continued: "So anyway, Olly discovered that his whole vendetta was due to a misunderstanding, and decided to undo the origami curse placed on everyone. It required him to be folded together, which, in turn, should've erased him from existence."

Mario appeared crestfallen. In the process of Olly's sacrifice, another friend of his was abolished from this world's pages, as if wiped away with correction fluid. Kind, cheerful, and idealistic – she helped Mario trek through the intense storm of his journey to stop Olly, like a warm, snug rain jacket. He bathed in her radiating light; his confidence grew from it like a flourishing flower absorbing the sun's nurturing rays.

But a dark cloud of misfortune eclipsed the light forever; not even a crack could pass through in its stone-cold, dismal disposition. Remorse for her untimely end would continue to weight Mario down like stones in his pockets. If only there was something he could've done to save her. Unfortunately, 'if' wasn't a word that instilled assurance; it was only a projector of the mind that played a work of fiction.

"So do you think he's responsible for the way the Heartless look?" Sora asked.

"Dunno," Fable asked. "If he's even alive. Maybe his handy work had an influence on them."

Sora couldn't help but scoff. "I doubt it. The only thing that inspires the Heartless is the dinner bell. A.K.A heart palpitations. Well, we'll have to be careful, that's all. Just another obstacle for us to overcome."

"Don't remind me," Fable said, nettled. "My pages are gonna start wrinkling up from the extra stress."

Sora noticed Mario staring out in the distance, brooding over the reel produced by the projector in his mind's eyes. The boy was about to open his mouth when a long, dragged-out moan interrupted the air's monologue of silence. Sora and Mario got into their battle positions again, weapons drawn, eyes sharpened with a blade of vigilance.

Fable took refuge behind the tree again, somehow growing accustomed to its black, bony physique. "And there they go right now! All my words will become mixed up! There will become their. Up will become down! Thyroparathyroidectomized will become Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Have mercy on a poor book's soul, grammar police!"

"Calm down!" Sora said, firm. "I got a feeling whoever is out there isn't a threat. Anyone who tries to scare us is really the frightened one."

Fable hid behind the tree, unconvinced. "Speak for yourself."

Sora saw a silhouette dash from a tree to a bush, waking it out of a sound sleep with irritable rustling. Again, the person tried to illicit fear with a low moan, to no avail. At least, for Sora and Mario. They believed his weak façade was about as transparent as a glass factory. During an earthquake. But Fable kept the curtains on, hiding in the shadows of terror.

"Come on out and fight!" Sora said, as his resolve pierced the dark forest like a shimmering knife. "Maybe then we'll be intimidated."

The figure shambled out from the bushes like a misshapen monster, holding up a lantern to tickle the bleak vicinity with an uplifting glow. He was concealed behind a brown robe, except for a green nose that creeped out from the hood. The figure's body was hunched over, as if a log was strapped to his back.

"Welcome to your dooooooom," the figure said, attempting to sound as intimidating as a kindergarten class' Halloween Party. He wiggled his three-digit green fingers in a melodramatic fashion. "Looks like your game has ended. Now, you must forever trudge through this realm of nightmares."

Sora and Mario shot each other incredulous looks, hitting their mark; they couldn't believe this guy was trying to reel them in with his theatrics (although Fable found her pages hooked together from the performance, believing every manufactured word like a subliminal advert).

The haunted hayride Sora went on back home was more efficient at plucking a cord of fear. When he was five (although it was more because Riku jumped out of a cornfield wearing a Jack-o'-lantern mask and black robe, scaring the backsides off him and Kairi).

"The realm known as….the Underwhere," the figure said.

Fable gasped in horror. "No! Not the Under…"—and a pedal slammed on the brakes of her nerves—"…what."

"Forever doomed to see the same backgrounds again and again," the figure said, not letting the axe of doubt cut the ribbon off his act.

Sora scoffed. "Did I hear that right? Is this place really called the Underwhere?"

Mario nodded, appearing amused by the whole ordeal.

"Annnnnddddd all credibility went in the laundry bin along with that name," Fable said, coming out from behind the tree, having been stripped of dread's tight scarf.

"Do not fear the Underwhere," the figure continued.

Sora's throat was tickled by an upsurge of laugher, as if army ants were ascending it. "Now you're just making it worse. Was the Underarm not available?"

"Neeeeeerrrraaaaahhhhh!" the figure said, finally dropping the pretense, exasperated with their quips. "Take me seriously! I'm really scary!" But the three's expressions had been solidified in dissatisfied cement. The figure lowered his head in shame. "Ugh! This is so not hi-technical! Even down here I'm about as intimating as that Gecko that sells you Go-Karting insurance!"

The figure pulled back his hood, revealing himself to be a green chameleon wearing glasses with square rims; spirals covered the lenses, preventing anyone from seeing the eyes, as if they were shutters used to keep anyone from staring into his pathetic soul. Mario was startled by the familiar sight of the chameleon, and raised his hand to Fable.

"Y-You've met this guy before?" Fable asked. She muttered under her breath, "Seems like you should've been better off un-meeting him."

Mario raised a finger to his mouth, hushing her.

The chameleon adjusted his glasses, and gazed closer at Mario. "Neeeeerrr, I remember you. Aren't you the one that stormed my castle?" Mario raised his hand again in confirmation. The chameleon responded with an indifferent shrug. "Neeeeerrrrr, there's no point in holding a grudge against you anymore. Especially since I ended up down here."

"So is this like a place people end up in when they die?" Sora asked.

The chameleon suddenly became vitriol. "That's when they 'game over!' Use the correct terminology!"

"Geeze, don't get on my case!" Sora said, becoming flustered. "Fine. Game over. Whatever that means." He took a moment to exhale, letting his anger erode. "So who are you?"

"My name is Francis," The chameleon said. "I'm here to greet new people who enter the Underwhere. I was trying to reach my scare quota for the day." He formed a disappointed frown. "Would've gotten a bonus had you three not ruined the moment! How else am I going to pay for season six of Starship X-Naut? Complete with commentary by the writers."

Fable found herself floating through a whirlwind of confusion from that comment. "Uh, sure. Anyways, how'd you end up here?"

"Nerrrrrrr!" Francis said, releasing a burst of hot, furious air from his throat. "I hit a stupid invisible coin block and fell down a pit! Who randomly places invisible blocks right above a cliff? That's terrible programming! Wait until I post an angry comment on the blockplacement dot net forum! People will clearly listen to my all-caps essay."

Sora just seemed more perplexed by everything uttered It was like climbing an endless spiral staircase. There would never be a top floor that housed answers. "Why don't we change the subject for a second? I can only be confused for so long. Have you seen anything out of the ordinary lately? Y'know, aside from us."

"Hmm," Francis said, rubbing a thoughtful finger across his bumpy skin. "Well, strange origami creatures have been running amuck. Have no idea where they're coming from. Perhaps Queen Jaydes would know."

Mario hopped up and down in excitement. There was finally a diverged path in this circle of madness. He explained the details to Fable.

"She rules this place?" Fable asked. "Good. That's a start. Can we have an audience with her?"

"Neeeerrrr, under one condition," Francis said. He eyed Sora's Keyblade with awkward delight. An uncomfortable lump expanded in the boy's stomach; he was weary of what words were about to deluge from Francis' mouth. "Can I make a prop based on that key weapon of yours? It's so hi-technical! Maybe I'll create an original character from it. Don't steal it, though."

Proper words failed to leave the bunker of Sora's troubled subconscious. Franchise was certainly…eccentric, to say the least. The only response he could muster was a reluctant, "I guess?"

"Perfect!" Francis said, overjoyed. "Follow me!"

He departed through the bushes for Queen Jaydes' kingdom, already preparing a mental docket for the design of his Keyblade prop. Everyone had been left behind in a dust cloud of astonished silence, struggling through its baffling veil of bewilderment. Something was off-putting about Francis' personality. Sora couldn't explain why.

But, whether he realized it or not, Francis did indeed reach his scare quota for today.

Everywhere he looked was unpleasant. Not an obtrusive thread of golden light dangled in front of him. Only trees with wrinkled faces kept a close, suspicious eye on him. Luigi hated being alone. Hearing your own heartbeat pound like bongos was the worse; it was like listening to a steady rise of your anxiety. How could you ignore it? No other sound could filter out the litany of concern that clamored against your eardrums.

But worse of all was hearing footsteps that were not your own – an inconsistent echo that swished in the grass, gaining distance on your position, preparing to pounce out from the shadows. And, while you walked, your imagination would run rampant with ideas of the entity's disfigured, monstrous visage.

But Luigi had to dust all those troubling thoughts away with an optimistic brush. He had to remain brave in the face of the unknown. Lingering wouldn't bring him any closer to salvation. Luigi's only choice was to be proactive, despite the heated debate traversing through his nervous system like phonelines.

With a watchful eye, he kept treading through the forest, using even the smallest light source that peeked through the trees as a guide. So far, he could hear only his footsteps shuffling through the grass. A comforting noise that somewhat muffle the constant beating in his ears.

"Okay," Luigi said. "Everything's fine. No trouble at all. Let's just keep moving at this pace. Maybe, for once, things will go smoothly."

And it didn't. Something rough hit the back of Luigi's head, making him fall face first into the ground, gaining a mask of dirt.

Luigi sighed, and said, in a muffled voice, "Why doesn't this ever work in reverse? I keep asking for a golden pluming toolkit, and never receive one. But mishaps certainly answer the call without delay. Mama-mia."

The person that crashed into Luigi was a female origami person. She wore a folded golden crown, and a yellow robe. Her hair was a bright blonde, staying consistent with the theme of the attire. She hovered in midair, swaying back and forth, as dizziness rattled inside of her like loose marbles. But was quick to compose herself, making those marbles still as stone.

She wondered what she ran into, and looked down to see Luigi's face sharing an intimate moment with the grass.

"Oh, no!" she said in a panic. "I'm so, so sorry. I was in a hurry. Didn't see your cranium in my peripheral vision. Do you need help? Should I check your pulse?" She paused for a moment. "Does the undead even have a pulse?"

Luigi rolled onto his back, rubbing his neck from the discomfort. Upon witnessing the origami person, his jaw dropped in shock. He rubbed his eyes, as if dust had settled in them, manipulating the world around him as a cruel joke. But when he looked again, yes – she was real. Her body radiated a gentle glow that gave the sulking vicinity a brief taste of euphoria.

"O-Olivia!?" Luigi asked. "Is that you!? Or is my sanity starting to pay retribution for the constant knocks to the noggin?"

That low, murmuring voice whispered from within Luigi's subconscious. "I'd believe the latter. I can remedy that."

"Shut it!" Luigi said with conviction in his thoughts, making the voice retreat like an irate cat into the dark cellar of the unconscious.

"Luigi!? Oh my gosh! I can't believe it!" Olivia said, hovering up and down like an excited bumble bee. After helping Luigi up, she ran straight into his arms, almost knocking him back on to the ground, disrupting its state of solitude again.

Luigi returned the hug, overjoyed to see her, too, although a myriad of questions placed a firm grip on his shoulder. As the two pulled away, those inquiries forced their way out of his mouth with the strength of s battering ram. "I don't understand! How are you here!? I mean, not, here, in this place. Here in general. How did you reform?" He went crossed eyed from confusion. "And why are there two of you now? Can origami reproduce?"

"Whoa! Slow down!" Olivia said, as her nerves bounced through an agitated pachinko machine. "I have an allergic reaction to pop quizzes, and it involves folding into the fetal position."

Luigi exhaled, trying to restrain every inquire like an excitable dog on a leash. "Sorry, sorry. Just can't believe you're alive! I thought you disappeared along with Olly? Mama-mia! Mario's gonna be so happy to see you. Granted, if we get out here." He noticed a dispirited expression on her face. "What's wrong? I bet you can't wait to see him, too,"

"Of course, I do," Olivia said, crestfallen. "But, I guess as compensation for deviating from nature's course, I'm technically 'not alive,' and am stuck wandering between this place and the Overthere forever. And it's still all so confusing to me. Doesn't help that the people there speak in old-timey English!" Her face scrunched into a compactor of irritation. "How am I supposed to understand this cosmic, otherworldly stuff? I've only been alive for a week or two!"

Luigi remembered visiting the Overthere – basically, the opposite of the Underwhere. The sun's perpetual shine never faltered, staring down at the citizens with an amiable eye. Buildings took inspiration from the elegant, limestone temples of Ancient Greece. Even aging cracks were unwilling to tarnish its refined, bright skin. People (known as Nimbi) wandered the streets without an even a small drop of cruelty tainting their jubilant blood.

And best of all, there was an endless supply of donuts to eat. With extra sprinkles! Luigi frowned; he'd rather have high blood pressure from consuming pastries instead of meandering through this terrifying realm. Misfortune seemed to hover over him like an umbrella, never letting him bask in the rays of contentment.

Still, he expressed sympathy for Olivia. She enjoyed exploring the world around her, marveling over the most insignificant of details – something many take for granted. They were all part of a grander design. But now, she was limited exploring one place. Those extraordinary temples would eventually become prosaic, like the sky without clouds. What more could you see? That sense of adventure would become a forgotten relic among mediocrity.

"That's a shame," Luigi said. "We'd have loved to shown you more of the Mushroom Kingdom."

Olivia's eyes were lit with a satisfied candle. "Not the end of the world. The Overthere is such an incredible place. Even made my own cloud fort! Complete with a recliner big enough for these stiff little feet of mine to reach." She hoisted herself into a contemplative seat. "But the ruler of the Overthere said that because my heart was so strong – especially for making the conscience decision to sacrifice my life – it refused to vanish, and I ended up in the Overthere."

"Didn't even know hearts could do that," Luigi said, with a puzzled, yet fascinated expression. "Hopefully all the cardio I do from running away will pay off one day like you" Olivia let out a small snort. "Hey, that sound better be because of a stuffy nose!"

"I don't even have a nose, silly," Olivia said, pulling back on the rein of laughter. "I'm sorry. It's just nice to be in good spirits when you're in a place like this."

Luigi hugged himself, being reminded of the cold air crawling on his mustache. "You're not wrong on that count. So, why are you here, anyway? I'd say you got a pretty good thing going up there. Especially the donuts – which will never be able grace the surface of my taste buds."

"Because I believe my brother is here, too," Olivia said, with a sincere expression. "Realizing his mistake required great strength of heart. He had to have come back! Nothing will change that belief."

If that was true, Luigi had been traced in an unstable line of doubt, with some parts zig zagging in fear like a restless heartbeat. What Olly did to the denizens of the Mushroom Kingdom was abhorrent – contorting their bodies into the shape of origami. Exiling their free will to a life of obedience through his resentful tongue. Sure, he had come to regret everything in his last few moments, but does that excuse every action committed? How far can someone extend a line of forgiveness before it loses slack?

Olivia noticed the tentative look in his eyes, and was sadden. "I understand. What he did was inexcusable. But he was denied a second chance to start anew. To be happy. Maybe it's a family thing. We're both part of the same sheet of paper. Sometimes we want what's best for them. And now, we've been given that chance! I want things to be different! Wouldn't you want that for Mario?"

Luigi sighed – she just had to fine away to make her predicament relatable, coaxing him into a fence of guilt like a sheep. And he could've sworn wool started growing on his neck, because it was working. Besides, how could anyone deny Olivia's precious, beady eyes, shimmering like the moon's reflection in a lackadaisical lake?

"I would," Luigi said, defeated. "Alright. Since we're both here, I guess I could help you find Oilly."

Olivia orbited around him like a binary star, beaming with delight. "Oh, thank you, Luigi! Just as kind as Mario! We'll find my big brother in no time! Hurray!"

"Well, thanks," Luigi said, blushing, although concern irritated his skin like an itch. He was still dubious about Olly's disposition. Last time, the Origami King trapped him in a wall, so he was not keen on becoming a tenant again. Trying to put optimistic ointment on that itch, he asked, "So how are you confident that he's here?"

Olivia felt a chill rummage through her blonde hair, and she glanced to her right, fearful. "Because of those guys that were chasing me earlier."

Luigi spun around to see the origami Heartless setting their sites on him like famished coyote. Their yellow eye illuminated the dark forest with an uncontrollable desire to tear away at the two's beating hearts.

"W-Well, it's a working theory," Luigi said, petrified. "Perhaps we should go somewhere else to let it flourish."

Olivia nodded in agreement, and the two hurried to escape the clutches of the Heartless. None dare asked what happens if one were to perish in the afterlife, and see what lies beyond it; that is, if there was anything at all.

Francis led the group through the dark forest, knowing every twisted, ambiguous route like the names of every Rescue Squad action figure he owned (including the ones that transformed into mopeds through the painstaking process of rearranging their plastic limbs). They soon arrived at a purple river, where a wooden ferry floated in the river with content.

The ferrymen – a strange little man with purple skin donning an orange robe and wizard's cap, and a long, rectangular, perpetual smile – took them across the river, caressing the unnatural water with a thin black paddle. Sora stayed seated in the middle, unmoving, like a pole; for he didn't want to lean over and be splashed with the river's harmful saliva.

Upon reaching land, they arrived at a Greek inspired temple. Massive in size. The white limestone's bright walls were a perfect contrast to the sulking vicinity. Adjacent to the center door, on each side of it, were torches greeting the visitors with their flickering, blazing hands. The temple was a nice change of pace from the forest's constant weeps of gloom.

"Wait here while I inform her of your arrival," Francis said, and he walked into the building. Through the side entrance. Peculiar, and a bit gratuitous, but that wasn't a concern that needed to be honored on a list of relevance.

"So do you think this queen can help us?" Sora asked.

Mario raised his hand. Fable said, ""Mario is good friends with her. Shouldn't be a problem."

A few minutes passed. The three took turns at passing around a ball of casual conversation. It wasn't long before a loud, dramatic creek from the door interjected. Everyone turned to see the door open, exhaling a puff of thick fog; it was like rolling out an intimidating carpet. Sora was somewhat intrigued, and a bit little nervous. This was the ruler of the underworld – her authority dictated the lives of every denizen, deciding their unfortunate fate without pause for empathy.

Soon, her silhouette appeared, and she pushed through the curtains of fog, unveiling herself before the audience. Her long purple hair touched the ground; the edges curled into spirals. The queen's body was in the shape of an upside cone. She wore a pink robe etched with black diamonds. Her crown, also purple, was tall, being separated with three points. She had pale skin that complimented the white walls of her abode, and purple eyeliner that contrasted the pallid bloom.

There was something unnerving, yet elegant about her. A ruler of the undead that held her head high before the groveling sinners. How would she react to standing in the presence of living beings? Well, that answer would have to linger, as she was busy on her pink cell phone (which she somehow carried without having any hands).

"I told you before, Grams," Jaydes said, vexed: "she is allergic to rosemary! Do you want our little girl to look like half a radish at her own birthday party? Double check the menu again." Her eyes met with the visitors, and then she focused on the call again. "Oh, gotta go! An old friend has shown up." Strident chatter could be heard on the other end. She rolled her eyes. "Not the pizza man. It's Mario. Call you later. Mmmmm-bye!"

"How is she able to carry the phone like that?" Fable asked Sora in whisper.

He shrugged, riding the same clueless wave. "Not the best guy to answer that question."

"Mario! How are you, darling?" Jaydes said, hovering down the stairs; her pale face radiated with joy. "It has been too long. I have been dying to see you again." She faced the other two, raising an intrigued eyebrow. "And I see you have brought friends. I am Queen Jaydes. Mistress of The Underwhere! Ruler of those with ended games! Tell me, young ones; how did your inevitable game over transpire? Lava pit? Crushed between two walls?"

"It's a lot more complicated than that," Sora said, as he started converging the memories of today into simple, quick to digest bullet points.

And so, the group explained their story to the queen, who appeared horrified by each sentence, as if witnessing her entire kingdom crumble into a wasteland, where vestiages of a better, glorious era would forever sleep in agony. And, if the necessary actions weren't put into motion, that prophecy's fin would emerge from the waters of fiction, attacking like an enraged shark.

"This is a travesty, to be sure," Jaydes said, once the story concluded. She was appalled by every detail. "We cannot let this menaces' plan come to fruition. Her little beasts have been nothing but a nuisance here. Only I, the queen of the Underwhere, am allowed to bring misery unto this realm. I'll be out of a job if this keeps up! And I refuse to spend my days in the Overthere, being serenated by an A cappella of puppies and unicorns" She shuddered. "Never spending more than a week there again. The horror."

"Right," Fable said, a bit uneasy. She then propped her emotions on a stand of optimism. "But you don't have to worry about a thing. Because we may know how to stop those creatures."

Mario raised his hand.

"A dark core of some kind?" Jaydes said, in response to him. "Why, as a matter of fact, yes. I have seen it. Behind this temple lies a winding pathway. Follow it until you come to a fork in the road. Go left, and you'll find the core you seek. Even we knew its presence carried a threatening aura – one of unfathomable power. Our attempts to abolish it have been in vain."

"That shouldn't be a problem for us," Sora said, with a confident smile. "I've already destroyed two of them. Leave it to us."

Jaydes was enfolded in a warm quilt of relief. "Thank you, kindly. Any ally of Mario's instantly gains my trust."

"We won't let you down!" Fable said. Mario raised his hand, sharing a bite of her sentiment.

"Then be off on your quest," Jaydes said, with a serious expression. "Our future rest on your shoulders." The three started to leave, when one final thought raised its hand from the backrow of consciousness. "Oh, one more thing." They stopped, and turned to face her. "Would you mind taking care of this horrible noise that's been screeching around the area? It's been giving me a headache!"

Sora raised a curious eyebrow. "Screeching?"

As if on cue, the 'screeching' nudge itself through the invisible barrier of silence. But it sounded more like screaming. That belonged to a certain younger brother of Mario's. Sora and Mario exchanged glances with each other, and nodded. They had a strong hunch that trouble was following close behind like coattails. There was no time to waste.

"We may have an idea on who's causing that screeching," Sora said, appearing a bit frantic. "Consider it done."

"Oh, thank you!" Jaydes said. "My headache will soon be vanquished. Good luck, my friends. Be sure to speak to me when your games end. I will tip the scales in your favor."

With time forever obstinate in obstructing the sands of its hourglass, the group hurried around the temple, and followed the trail, hoping to find success awaiting their arrival with an enthusiastic wave of a flag. Feeling the tension spiral down a tube of content, Jaydes returned to the temple door, which opened automatically, coughing out fog again.

Jaydes groaned. "I can't believe I let that buffoon talk me into installing a motion senor fog machine."

"Nerrrrrrr! My genius will not be castigated!" Francis said, from out of nowhere, with a bellowing gust of pride.

A drumline of pounding feet played on a perpetual loop. The group's eyes were only allowed to diet on the dirt road in front of them (not that there were any interesting sights to take in around them; just more brooding trees staring into the distance, as if pondering the state of their existence). They ran (or, in Fable's case, float) as fast as their bodies permitted.

Sometimes, they would unplug their eyes from the path, scanning the area for any sign of movement. Nothing yet. The forest remained lethargic within its dispirited cupola. They continued further down the forest's artery, until arriving at the branching path, veering left, not stopping to extinguish the rising flames in their chests.

Soon, the forest around them started growing wider, as if having been parted by a comb. It wasn't as congested as before.

"Hope Luigi's okay," Fable said.

"I'm sure he's fine," Sora said, with heavy breaths. "He has his share of…interesting quirks." (Mario couldn't help but grin). "But, if your Luigi is the same as ours, then he can put up one heck of a fight."

Mario nodded in agreement.

"Just hope the Heartless don't find him first," Fable said, as her mind's eyes peeked behind the future's unpredictable bushes.

"Do you really think this Olly guy is responsible for the way they're looking?" Sora asked.

"We'll find out soon enough," Fable said. "If so, we better be prepared. Mario can tell you from experience that the paper cuts he inflicts are more than an inch long."

Mario nodded again, and then his mind started descending into pensive catacombs, where every worry and concern flew by him like agitated bats. Was Olly alive? Didn't he relinquish the unruly grudge that was joined to him like a painful excrescence? Maybe some of that resentment regrew; and now, imbued with the wretched stigma of darkness, he was a far worse threat.

What about his friend? Was she resurrected too? Or did fortunate not deem her worthy of that rare endowment? But an alarming light brightened the catacombs, as Sora pointed out a group of Heartless that appeared, clogging the forest's artery with dark plaque. And if left unchecked, the entire world would die as it gasped out for that last glimmer of light.

Sora summoned the Keyblade. "Alrighty! Time to see we can leave an indent that matches Olly's!"

Once again, Sora and Mario did find the origami Heartless to be more formidable than their flat counter parts. At the same, though, the two were able to exploit their weakness, and conceive strategies to overcome their opponents. With one final strike of the Keyblade, the Heartless were slain, being condemned to a life of nihility.

Sora grinned in pride. When first forced to fight with the turn taking, he detested the notion. There was no rush of excitement to quench his thirst for action. Just waiting for long periods of time. Where was the fun in that? But, as he continued fighting, his mind was forced to step outside the comforts of a flat, mundane photo into the third dimension, where possibilities seemed vaster and open-ended.

It reminded him of how important patience was to victory; to never be blinded by a shade of adrenaline, and storm the battlefield with a single-minded purpose.

"Getting used to this whole turn taking thing," Sora said, brushing the dirt of his clothes.

"What did I tell you?" Fable said, pleased. "Not too bad once you get the hang of it."

Mario diverted their attention to an indistinguishable blur running for a nearby tree.

"Yeah, no," Sora said. "You're not above having your butt kicked."

He threw the Keyblade right at the blur, just as reached the tree, shouted, "Ow!" and fell over. Sora winced in guilt for letting his impulses raise an eager hand over his rational senses.

"Do those creatures exclaim 'ow' when hurt?" Fable asked, feeling an uncomfortable drift through her pages.

"Not unless they've been taking night school," Sora said.

Fable's expression became grim. "That's what I was afraid of."

She hurried over to the tree when someone tackled her. The world around her turned into an uncontrollable Ferris wheel of greens and blacks as she struggled against the assailant.

"Don't harm him, you big meanie!" the assailant said.

"Harm him how?" Fable asked, grunting. "By putting him to sleep with my journal entries?"

The two continued spinning around in an endless cycle of disarray. Finally, they crashed into a nearby tree, and fell onto the ground. Fable hurried to escape, but the pursuer dove on top of her, not quite ready to unfasten the straps of mercy yet.

"Now, say your sorry, or I'm gonna tell someone," the assailant said, attempting what was supposed to be…a threat?

Fable was baffled by what she heard. "Oh, no. Either I confess to something I'm not guilty of, or you'll tell a complete random stranger about it? Seems like a lose-lose situation."

Suddenly the assailant, who was Oliva, heard a familiar voice called out to her. She frozen, letting each familiar noise register. Spinning around, she saw him: bushy moustache, overalls, red cap, and a genial smile. Was her hysterics playing a devious trick? She took a moment to relax. He was still there, unaltered from flipping the switch of changed emotions. It was him. He was real.

Mario couldn't believe it, either. She was supposed to be gone, having been substitute with a figment of his memories. But its job was terminated; the genuine article had returned. A flurry of emotions assaulted Mario's chest. He couldn't believe this was real.

Tears started streaming down Olivia's face. "M-Mario?"

Mario performed his famous jump, clearing the uncomfortable air of any doubt. She ran straight into his arms, letting out a downpour of numerous emotions. Two old friends found each other again, despite the odds keeping them apart through a barrier of existence. Sora had no idea what he just witnessed; everything moved with the speed of the wind. Images had been tossed and turned in front of him.

But one thing was apparent: Mario had reunited with a long-lost friend, and he couldn't be happier. Sometimes the finer details didn't matter. Not when enveloped in this positive aura. After the tears had been quelled, Olivia explained her situation to everyone. Although disappointed that she was forced to be a permanent resident of the Overthere, Mario was glad to see her again; that her story would have a happy conclusion.

"I'm sorry for attacking you," Olivia said to Fable, shifting about in an uncomfortable manner. "Are you hurt?"

"Nah, I'm fine," Fable said, as an understanding mist glided across her eyes. After all, any friend of Mario seemed like a decent person. She probably had good intentions. "Guess it's a good thing I don't have any bones, huh? Torn pages are a much easier to fix. I'll take glue over an incision any day."

Sora couldn't help but be a bit jealous. If only injures could be fixed with the wave of a glue stick.

Including emotional ones. Life would be so much easier.

"So why did you attack us?" Sora asked, drying up those damp thoughts with encouraging towel.

"Well…." Olivia focused on the tree. Everyone had forgotten about the blur from earlier, and they hurried over to see if the person wasn't injured.

To their shock, it was none other than Luigi, leaning against the tree, unconscious. Guilt had plummeted into Sora's stomach, releasing a splash that drizzled all over his insides.

"Say, does the Underwhere carry water of the clear variety?" Sora asked with an awkward squeeze of his arm.

Darkness eclipsed his entire vision. Every sense had been tranquilized by a comatose dart. Nothingness was his only company. Boring. Lifeless. Indifferent. But then, a voice started scaling the deep recess of his mind, determined to reach the peak, claiming everything for itself.

"Embrace me."

However, the voice lost its footing, and fell into the black pit below, once again trapped, clamped to the jaws of oblivion. The voice tried clawing its way to freedom, searching for a protrusion. But the jaws would not concede. Regardless, the voice would never surrender, not until completing its purpose.

Soon, Sora's voice tunneled into Luigi's ears, burying the entity in disappointment.

"Luigi! Hey, wake up!" Sora said.

Everyone of Luigi's senses awoke from their sedated prison, and he opened his eyes, being stared at by eight concerned eyes. With haze still hovering over his head, he was startled by their appearance, screamed, and pressed himself against the tree in fear. But it didn't take long for rational sense to become attentive. He realized everyone wasn't shrouded within a threatening mist.

His eyes were drawn to a familiar person. "B-Bro? Is that you?"

It was so bizarre to see a different version of Luigi, Sora thought. Everything about him was the same, except for appearing as a paper cutout. Or the fact that he didn't recognize him in the slightest. It was like stepping into a mirror world – one where you didn't exist. This journey found new ways to make Sora's head spin.

Mario hopped up and down, thrilled to see his brother unharmed (well, except for receiving a newly formed bruise on his forehead). Luigi placed a hand on his chest, exhaling. "Oh, thank goodness! I never thought I…." His moustache was prickled with sudden doubt. "Wait, this seems like a major coincidence. I accepted it the last time we met here, but lighting can't strike twice. How do I know it's really you?"

"Even this version of him is difficult," Sora said under his breath, shaking his head.

Mario raised his hand again. His remark detonated into an explosion of laughter from Fable, and Olivia covered her eyes in embarrassment.

"Mario!" Luigi said, angered. "Don't tell them about my birthmark!"

Sora's smile widened with curiosity. "What? What did he say?"

"Not a word!" Luigi said, pointing a stern finger at both Olivia and Fable. They both lowered their heads in compliance (despite the intersperse of giggles from Fable).

"Aw," Sora said.

Luigi turned back to his brother; nettled with him. But he couldn't keep that feeling taped to his chest. His big brother was here. He knew everything would be okay now. When things seemed difficult, he could count on Mario to chip away at the problem, making it tolerable. The two brothers united with a strong, sibling embrace. Sora wondered if the Luigi on the outside was daydreaming of this moment every day, keeping that hope buckled to his heart.

"I missed you so much!" Luigi said, in utter assuagement. "The things I had to endure down here! The Boos have not seen creepy!"

Fable gave him a peculiar look, and whispered, "I'm starting to understand what you meant earlier, Sora."

After the two separated, Mario gave his brother a hearty pat on the shoulder. He was so relieved to find one of the keys that unlocked his immense happiness. But he knew that one was still lost, keeping that joy from opening wide like a closet.

His darling Peach.

"I see you've had a chance to catch up with Olivia," Luigi said. "But there's a lot of questions that need answering ASAP. Namely how I ended up here. Or if the princess is safe." He focused on Sora and Fable. "And who are these two?"

Mario began his explanation to Luigi, hefting up any important details he could recall like a laundry bag with fresh clothes. Although the potholes were filled with concrete answers, they coagulated into dread for Luigi. Sora noticed his knees wobbling in anxiety. Was it wrong to say that seeing Luigi display his usual cowardice made Sora sentimental?

"Boy, this De Void sounds like a real pain," Luigi said, trying to quell the jitters. "And I was enjoying a good nap until I got whisked away to this place. What a way to spend a day off." He noticed Sora smiling at him, which instantly caused an uncomfortable lump to squirm its way into his throat. "What? Do I have something on my moustache? Staring at me isn't gonna leave a good impression."

Sora blushed. "Sorry. It's just so nice to see a familiar face."

"Huh?" Luigi asked, as his face was riddled with patches of confusion. "Have we met before?" Sora was about to open his mouth when a pleasant realization offered him a prideful pat on the back. "Oh, I get! You're a fan of mine! Mama-mia! I've forgotten what that's felt like!"

Sora was taken aback. "Wait a minute. I—"

"All is forgiven," Luigi said, appearing modest. "I know it can be hard to form syllables around me. I'd give you an autograph if I had a pen. Can you take a raincheck?"

"Luigi!" Sora said, annoyed. "That's not what I mean!"

He paused upon feeling the elevated emotion pound against his heart like a mallet. It was so familiar; so nostalgic. He half expected Yoshi to interject at any second, asking for something to eat. Those memories tickled at Sora's neck, making him laugh. Luigi, now uneasy, got Mario's attention, gestured at the boy with his thumb, and made a circular motion with his finger, pointing right at the temple.

After letting the joyful air deplete from his lungs, Sora looked up at the sky, placing both hands in his pockets, reminiscing. "Man. For a moment, it felt like I was back in the Labo Ship. Better explain myself."

Sora told a quick synopsis of his journey, filtering out any details deemed unnecessary. Everyone listened with fascinated ears, in awe by the scale of this undertaking Sora was forced to wrap around his waist, squeezing it with intense pressure. He then explained how the Mario of the outside world was out there by himself in the vast palms of space.

Paper Mario was worried about his third dimensional counterpart. They had become good friends in their short time together; and it wasn't because they were one in the same. Something about their chemistry just conflated like a successful formula. It was like seeing yourself from a new perspective; you excavated a new trait that remained dormant like amber, beaming in excitement for becoming useful. He just hoped that, wherever the path led the other Mario, it was devoid of treacherous hazards.

Unbeknownst to the group, their lives were about to walk across a perilous tightrope, where an adversary had control over its movements. He peered out from the shadows; his eyes were set upon the hapless travelers. Anger and hate rumbled in his soul, preparing to erupt like an unstable volcano.

And the group would be the first victims devoured by the raging, vitriol lava, not leaving even a morsel unchecked.

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