Chapter 5: Welcome to Twilight Town, Mr Pool!
"Finally, after five chapters and a lot of—how shall I put this—exposition overload, I can finally get into the swing of things," Deadpool muttered to himself as he emerged from the dark corridor. "The writer loves to make sure nothing gets missed. Sure, it helps you readers keep up with this complex and surely convoluted plot, but let's be real, I'm here for the action—and maybe a little bit of character development. Time is—"
He stopped mid-sentence as his boots touched the ground of Twilight Town. But this wasn't the Twilight Town he remembered from countless hours playing the Kingdom Hearts games. The usually vibrant, sun-kissed streets were now draped in an eerie twilight that felt more like the aftermath of a disaster than the calm, nostalgic backdrop he was used to.
"Holy crap..." Deadpool muttered in disbelief, his voice dropping all its usual bravado. The white lenses on his mask widened, reflecting the shock he felt beneath the fabric.
The once-bustling Tram Common was now a wreck—rubble and debris scattered everywhere, storefronts boarded up or shattered, and the tram itself lying derailed, half-buried under fallen bricks. The air was thick with dust and the lingering scent of something burnt, an acrid reminder of whatever had gone down here.
"Cross wasn't kidding about this place being, how can I put it… oh hell, I'm saying it—gone to shit," Deadpool said, his tone shifting from his usual flippancy to something more serious. He stepped over a cracked cobblestone, feeling the crunch of broken glass underfoot. The once-welcoming atmosphere of Twilight Town was now heavy, oppressive. It was like walking through the set of a disaster movie, only this time, there were no extras or directors calling the shots.
Deadpool paused, taking it all in— the silence broken only by the occasional creak of something shifting in the distance.
"Well, this is depressing," Deadpool murmured to himself, his voice echoing softly through the deserted streets. "Twilight Town was supposed to be the happy place, the calm before the storm. Now it looks like it's auditioning to be the next Raccoon City!"
The mercenary's eye lenses narrowed as he took in the devastation around him. He needed answers, and he needed to find Aqua—fast. If this world had been plunged into such a mess, it was a safe bet that others might be facing the same fate. And if there was one thing Deadpool hated, it was being left out of the action.
Suddenly, from one of the pouches on his utility belt, he heard a buzzing and a chime. The sound was out of place in the eerie silence of the ruined town, cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Oh, catchy!" Deadpool remarked, looking down to his belt with an amused grin. "Must be that convenient plot device going off."
He fished around in the pouch, pulling out the small, sleek device Evelyn had given him back in the DMSI headquarters. The screen glowed faintly, displaying a map of Twilight Town with a pulsing dot indicating a nearby anomaly.
Deadpool raised an eyebrow, the white lenses of his mask shifting to convey his curiosity.
"Well, what do we have here? Looks like the writers decided to give me a little help after all. About time! And here I thought they were just going to let me wander around aimlessly until something dramatic happened."
He studied the map on the device, watching as the dot guided him to a familiar location—the Usual Spot.
"Oh, of course it is," Deadpool muttered, shaking his head with a smirk. "I remember that place in Kingdom Hearts II. Spent way too much time there doing a bunch of errands. Good times, good times."
With the location set, Deadpool tucked the device back into his belt and started making his way through the battered streets of Twilight Town, heading toward the Usual Spot. The sense of urgency still gnawed at him, but now it was mixed with a strange sense of nostalgia. Despite the chaos, there was something oddly comforting about revisiting these places—like stepping back into a world he'd once been a part of, even if it was just through a screen.
"Alright, Usual Spot, here I come," Deadpool said to himself, picking up the pace. "Let's see what kind of trouble you've gotten yourself into. And hopefully, there's someone there who can give me a clue about where Aqua's run off to. Because let's be real, wandering around a destroyed town is only fun for so long."
Deadpool trudged through the debris-strewn streets of Twilight Town, each step accompanied by the crunch of shattered glass and the unsettling weight of a world that had seen better days. The silence was the worst part—thick and oppressive, like something out of Silent Hill, or worse, like if Thanos had snapped his fingers with the infinity gauntlet and erased everyone. It was a kind of quiet that got under your skin, making even the most hardened mercenary uneasy.
As he approached the entrance to the Usual Spot, Deadpool's shoulders tensed. This place, once a sanctuary for lazy afternoons and friendly banter, now stood as a grim reminder of how far things had fallen. But before he could enter and see what awaited him inside, a familiar sound reached him—a faint, scuttling noise that he remembered from all those hours of playing Kingdom Hearts. His 'Merc Sense' was tingling. Finally, after all the buildup, something was about to go down.
"Finally, readers, some action!" he muttered under his breath, excitement and anticipation bubbling up inside him. "It only took over 12,000 words to get to this point!"
He turned on his heel, his hands already reaching back to his katanas, Bea and Arthur. The blades slid from their sheaths with a satisfying hiss, gleaming even in the dim light of the devastated street. What he saw confirmed his suspicions—Small Shadow Heartless and Nobody Dusks creeping out from the shadows, their sinister forms twisting and writhing as they advanced toward him.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the bottom of the enemy food chain," Deadpool teased, his voice laced with playful mockery. "The lowest of the low—like the henchmen who get taken out in the first five minutes of a movie. Did you guys get lost on your way to the tutorial level?"
Deadpool took a confident step forward, twirling Bea and Arthur in his hands with a practiced flair, the katanas catching the dim light as they sliced through the air. His grin was evident even beneath the mask as he sized up the Shadow Heartless and Dusks.
"Let me guess," he continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "you were probably the local NPCs before you got a case of the deads and decided to come back as cannon fodder? Don't worry, folks, I'll bring you back to the Realm of Light! Just call me Deadpool, the ultimate respawn manager!"
With that, Deadpool launched himself into the fray, his movements a blur of red and black as he danced around the Heartless and Nobodies. His fighting style was a chaotic blend of acrobatics and precise strikes, every swing of his katanas accompanied by a quip or a laugh. He flipped over a Dusk, landing behind it with a quick, clean slice that sent it dissolving into nothingness.
As he fought, he couldn't help but comment on the experience, as if narrating his own battle.
"Oh yeah, that's the stuff. Cue the kick-ass fight music! And who better than Yoko Shimomura to score this beatdown? Seriously, she knows how to bring the feels and the adrenaline. My favorite? 'A Fight to the Death' from Kingdom Hearts II. Absolute chef's kiss!"
He leapt onto a crumbling wall, then pushed off with a powerful kick, diving back into the fray with a flurry of slashes that sent Heartless and Dusks scattering.
"I mean, come on—can you even call it a final boss fight without that track playing in the background? It's like fighting your arch-nemesis while Mozart conducts the orchestra. Pure magic."
The enemies kept coming, but Deadpool was relentless, his katanas cutting through the dark figures with ease. He dodged a swipe from a Shadow Heartless, and with a spring in his step, got behind it to deliver a swift strike.
"Too slow, shadowy dude! Maybe next time you'll graduate from the minor leagues."
As the last of the enemies fell, dissolving into black mist, Deadpool stood in the center of the street, still brimming with energy.
"Well, that was a nice warm-up. If this were a game, I'd say we're just getting started. Now, where's my victory fanfare? Oh, right—we're saving that for the final boss."
With the immediate threat dealt with, Deadpool sheathed Bea and Arthur, the metal sliding back into their scabbards with a satisfying shing. His thoughts quickly returned to the task at hand—the Usual Spot, the place where answers might be waiting, or at the very least, a clue to what the hell was going on with Aqua.
He turned back to the dark alleyway nestled between two crumbling, near-destroyed buildings, their once-vibrant facades now marred by cracks and scorch marks.
"Well, readers," Deadpool quipped, glancing at the invisible audience he was sure was following his every move, "we're about to step into the Usual Spot. But knowing my luck, it's going to be anything but usual. What do you think we'll find inside? A clue, a boss battle, maybe even a secret recipe for sea-salt ice cream? Place your bets, folks, because we're about to find out."
With a confident stride, Deadpool walked toward the entrance, the weight of the silence pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. But he didn't falter. If anything, he welcomed the tension—it meant that something was about to happen, and Deadpool lived for those moments.
As Deadpool entered the Usual Spot, the familiar yet now unsettling space opened up before him. What was once a cozy, tucked-away hangout between two buildings had now taken on an aura of despair. The Usual Spot had always been a place of refuge, a makeshift clubhouse where friends gathered to escape the troubles of their world, but now, it was as if the light in their hearts had been switched off—like the electric company had cut them off for not paying their bill.
The hangout was a small, narrow area wedged between two crumbling structures. The brick walls that enclosed the space were cracked and weathered, with creeping vines that had long since dried up and died. The ceiling was little more than a patchwork of old tarps and scrap wood, offering scant protection from the elements. A single, dim lightbulb hung precariously from a frayed wire, casting a weak, flickering glow over the scene.
Pushed up against the wall was a sad, worn-out couch that took up most of the room. Its faded upholstery was torn in several places, with stuffing poking out like the last remnants of hope. Mismatched, makeshift furniture—an old wooden crate serving as a table, a few overturned barrels as seats—dotted the area, adding to the bleak atmosphere. Scattered around were remnants of happier times: a half-deflated soccer ball, some crumpled posters of Struggle tournaments, and a stack of old, dog-eared magazines that no one had touched in ages.
"Dear lord," Deadpool muttered to himself, taking in the dull and depressing hideout. "Did I just walk into the set of an indie film about existential despair? I mean, I get it, the kids were broke, but this is a whole new level of bleak. Where's Marie Kondo when you need her? 'Does this couch spark joy?' Absolutely not."
He took another step inside, his gaze landing on the trio of kids—Pence, Hayner, and Olette—scattered around the room like they had been drained of all life and color. They were slumped in various positions, their faces etched with exhaustion and sorrow. Hayner sat on the worn-out couch, staring blankly at the floor, his once fiery determination replaced by a dull, lifeless gaze. Pence leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes distant, as if he were somewhere far away, mentally and emotionally checked out. Olette sat on one of the overturned barrels, her posture slouched, head resting in her hands, the weight of everything pressing down on her small frame.
Deadpool's usual bravado faltered for a moment as he took in their hopeless expressions. These weren't the energetic, hopeful kids he remembered from the games. They were shadows of their former selves, beaten down by the weight of everything that had gone wrong.
"Yikes," Deadpool said, his voice softening. "You kids look like you've been through the ringer and back. I've seen happier faces at a DMV on a Monday morning."
Hearing Deadpool's witty remark, the three turned towards the entrance, where the mercenary stood with his usual swagger. The trio's expressions were a mix of exhaustion and frustration, and Deadpool could see the defeat in their eyes.
"Who the heck are you?" Hayner asked with a scoff, clearly unimpressed by the wise-cracking stranger who had just barged into their sanctuary.
"The name's Mr. Wilson, if you're feeling formal," Deadpool replied with a playful tone, striking a mockingly sophisticated pose. "Or Deadpool, if you're into the whole superhero name thing. But you can call me your friendly neighborhood mercenary, here to save the day!"
Hayner wasn't having any of it.
"Can't you see we're dealing with a lot here?" he spat back, his voice tinged with impatience and bitterness.
"Oh, I can tell, kiddo" Deadpool replied, his tone still playful but with a slight tinge of empathy. "Slight understatement there, kid. You all look like you've been stuck in a never-ending game of Monopoly—nobody wins, and the fun ran out hours ago."
"Please, mister, we aren't in the mood for jokes today," Hayner shot back, trying to get Deadpool to stop. His frustration was clear, but so was the pain behind it.
Deadpool raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Alright, alright, I get it—rough day, rough week, rough everything. But hey, you've got to admit, a little humor never hurt anyone. Except for that one time I made a joke about the X-Men… but that's another story."
Olette, still seated, her gaze distant, finally spoke up, her voice soft but filled with an overwhelming sense of defeat.
"We've gone through a lot, and the darkness just seems to be creeping in everywhere. It's like there's no escape."
Deadpool's expression softened even more, his usual bravado giving way to something almost resembling sincerity.
"Yeah, I know that feeling. When it feels like the darkness is winning, and no amount of heartwarming friendship speeches are going to fix it. But that's why I'm here to help."
"You—you're here to help?" Hayner scoffed, sitting up straight on the couch, his skepticism palpable. "Right, because some wisecracking, masked stranger is exactly what we need right now."
"Hayner…" Pence said softly from where he leaned against the wall, trying to calm his friend down. He could see the anger boiling over in Hayner, but knew that lashing out wasn't going to change anything.
"If you're here to help, then you're too late!" Hayner added, barking in anger at Deadpool. His frustration, his helplessness, everything he'd been holding in, burst out all at once. "This place is already ruined, and nothing you do is going to fix it!"
Deadpool cocked his head, his eyes narrowing behind his mask as he assessed the situation. He didn't much care for the kid's attitude, but he knew that it was coming from a place of pain. Still, a little tough love never hurt anyone. Time to remind Hayner who the real man was around here.
"Always the serious type, huh, Hayner?" Deadpool teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Hayner's eyes widened at the comment, suspicion flaring up again. "Must be exhausting being the one who carries all the weight on those teeny-tiny shoulders of yours. Relax, kid. You're looking at the guy who's going to turn this mess around."
"Wait—how do you know my name? Are you with the darkness?" Hayner asked, his suspicion deepening as he narrowed his eyes, glaring at Deadpool.
Deadpool couldn't help himself—he laughed, and not just any laugh, but a snort that echoed off the walls of the Usual Spot. The absurdity of the situation hit him all at once, and he found the idea of being accused of siding with the darkness downright hilarious.
"Oh, kiddo, I'm hired by the good guys in this story," he replied, still chuckling. "Trust me, I'm more about the light—well, light with a side of chaos. But I know all about you three—the gang of Twilight Town."
"You do?" Olette asked, her eyes widening in curiosity.
"Of course," Deadpool replied, his tone shifting to mock seriousness as he started pointing at each of them in turn. "There's Hayner, the hothead; Pence, the tech genius; and Olette, the glue that holds this little trio together. You're like the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew, but, you know, with fewer mysteries and more sea salt ice-cream."
The trio exchanged bewildered looks, their anger and suspicion momentarily giving way to confusion. Deadpool had described them with such accuracy that it caught them off guard.
"Wait, how do you know us?" Pence finally asked, voicing the question that was on all their minds.
"I'm curious too," Olette added, now standing from her makeshift seat, her voice cautious but intrigued. "We've never seen you around before."
Deadpool grinned beneath his mask, loving the chance to be the all-knowing outsider.
"Well, let's just say I'm from a place where your lives are kind of an open book—or maybe more like an open game. I've got my sources. You're all part of something bigger, something I've been keeping an eye on."
"Did you work with Ansem the Wise?" Olette asked, trying to piece together who Deadpool might be. "Did you help him with the virtual Twilight Town?"
"Me, working with Dracula himself? I wish," Deadpool quipped. "But no, let's just say your little universe attracts a lot of attention. You've got heartless, nobodies, and a plot that even I have trouble keeping straight—and that's saying something."
Pence, who had been quietly observing, suddenly stood up straight from the wall and moved towards Deadpool, scrutinising him with the kind of focus he usually reserved for solving puzzles or cracking codes. He stopped a few feet away, eyes narrowing as he examined the mercenary from head to toe.
"Do you want an autograph, or what?" Deadpool asked, arching an eyebrow beneath his mask, taking a step back. "Personal space, kid. You would have sucked at keeping your distance during COVID."
"The costume," Pence muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "You're a superhero, right?"
Deadpool chuckled, relishing the moment.
"Is that your final answer, Pence? Want to ask the audience or phone a friend? You're kind of right, though—I'm a hero, anti-hero, mercenary-for-hire… It's complicated, like trying to explain the Kingdom Hearts timeline in one sentence."
Pence took a step back, still processing what he was hearing.
"So, you are here to help us?" he asked in confusion.
"Bingo!" Deadpool said with a dramatic flourish. "I'm here to help you, save the day, and maybe throw in a few snarky comments along the way. But let's focus on the 'saving the day' part for now."
Hayner, still looking serious, stood from the couch and squared his shoulders.
"How can you help us?" he questioned.
"Well," Deadpool began, pacing around the small space, "I was brought here to sort out Aqua's mess. I don't have much time, and we're already running over the word count, so I need you three to give me the CliffNotes version of what happened to Aqua and what went down in Twilight Town. Keep it brief, kids—we've got a chapter break coming up."
He turned to the reader, throwing in a cheeky aside, "We may need to dive into the more in-depth stuff in the next chapter, sorry, not sorry."
The trio exchanged bewildered looks at Deadpool's odd behavior, but eventually, they seemed to accept that this strange man in red and black might actually be their best shot at understanding the chaos around them.
"Well, Aqua showed up in town a while back," Pence started, trying to recall the details. "At first, it seemed like she was just passing through, but then things started getting weird. Darkness started spreading, and people started disappearing."
Hayner picked up from there.
"We tried to help, but Aqua… she wasn't herself. It was like something was eating away at her. She kept talking about needing to fix things, but whatever she was doing, it made everything worse."
"And now the whole town's fallen apart," Olette added quietly. "It's like the light just… went out. We don't know where Aqua went, but we're pretty sure she's the reason all of this is happening."
Deadpool listened intently, nodding as they spoke.
"So, Aqua's gone rogue, the town's in shambles, and you three are stuck in the middle of it," Deadpool remarked, trying to connect it all. "Sounds like a typical Tuesday for me."
He stopped pacing and faced them, his tone more serious now.
"Alright, thanks for the rundown," Deadpool said, his tone shifting to something a bit more serious. "Here's the deal—I'm going to find Aqua and put a stop to this mess. But I'm going to need your help. You three know this place better than anyone, and I could use a few extra pairs of eyes."
"So what, like a team?" Hayner asked, his voice perking up at the idea. The thought of being part of something bigger, something that might bring back the town they loved, seemed to spark a bit of hope in him.
"Yes," Deadpool said with a nod, a grin spreading under his mask. "Think of it like this: you're my new X-Force. X-Force 2.0, the sequel nobody knew they wanted, but here we are! I'm the guy with the swords, guns and wisecracks, all under this devilishly good-looking red spandex. You're the local experts, the heart of Twilight Town. Together, we're going to make this darkness wish it had stayed under the bed where it belongs."
Pence, always the practical one, frowned slightly as he responded, "But what exactly can we do? We're just kids, and you—well, you're…"
"Awesome?" Deadpool interjected. "Yes, yes, I am. But you three have something just as valuable: knowledge. You know the ins and outs of this place, and that's going to give us an edge. Besides, every good hero needs a support team. Batman has Alfred, Iron Man has JARVIS, and I… well, I have you guys."
Olette stepped forward, her cautious curiosity now turning into resolve.
"If it means saving our town, we're in. We don't have much left to lose."
"That's the spirit!" Deadpool exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "And hey, it's not just your world that needs saving—it's the whole universe!" He paused for dramatic effect, then added with a playful tone, "No pressure."
Hayner, who had been watching this exchange with a mix of skepticism and interest, finally crossed his arms and nodded.
"Alright, we're with you, but what's the plan?" he asked, needing to know more.
Deadpool's eye lenses gleamed with excitement as he explained.
"The plan, my dear Hayner, is to track down Aqua, figure out what in the name of Goofy's Goof Troop is going on, and stop this darkness from spreading. We'll start by hitting up some key locations—places where Aqua might have left a clue. And if we run into any more of those shadowy losers along the way, well, that's just bonus round points for us."
Pence nodded, his analytical mind already working.
"We could start by checking the bistro and the old mansion," he exclaimed. "Those are places she might've gone through."
Olette added, "And we can keep an eye out for anything unusual—anything that might tell us where she's headed next."
Deadpool gave them an approving nod before he spoke.
"Now you're thinking like X-Force 2.0! Stick with me, kids, and we'll have this place back to its sunny self in no time. Or at least before the next game release."
"Next game?" Olette asked, her tone full of intrigue and curiosity, her brows knitting together in confusion.
"Ignore me," Deadpool waved her off casually, turning towards the exit. "Come on, team, let's Scooby-Doo this shit!"
As he started to lead the way out, he couldn't resist breaking the fourth wall once more. He glanced over his shoulder at the reader, his eye lenses narrowing playfully.
"Ha! That was a fun ending line. I know Benedict Cumberbatch enjoyed saying that in No Way Home too!"
With that, he strode confidently out of the Usual Spot, the trio following behind him, still unsure of what to make of their strange new ally but somehow feeling a sliver of hope that hadn't been there before. After all, if anyone could bring a little light back to their world, it was this bizarre, wise-cracking, sword-swinging hero who seemed to know more about them than they did themselves.