The atmosphere was thick with tension as Blizzard and Josiah, with Chirithy trailing behind, emerged onto the top floor, approaching a heavily secured section, they were met with the steely gazes of armed guards stationed at the entrance of a secured door. Josiah, adopting a posture of authority yet laced with his characteristic undercurrent of excitement, gestured for Blizzard to stay close.

Josiah: (with a calm yet firm tone) Good evening, gentlemen. We're here on urgent business—two matters of great importance. Firstly, to ensure no Heartless threats linger here, and secondly, to inspect a specific pod we've been informed is housed within.

The first guard, unmoved, responded with a rigid professionalism.

First Guard: Apologies, but without explicit clearance from higher-ups, entry is prohibited. Orders are strict.

Blizzard: Could you possibly make an exception? Time is of the essence for us.

A third guard, stepping forward, emphasized the gravity of their orders.

Third Guard: You might not grasp the severity of our instructions. All within the top floor, is under our protection against all threats.

Josiah, sensing the impasse, gently placed a reassuring hand on Blizzard's shoulder, signaling him to step back.

Josiah: Allow me a moment. (he said, a slight smile hinting at his planned approach)

Focusing, Josiah summoned a small purple orb, pulsating with electricity and emitting a soft, ominous hum—a ball of thunder magic cradled in his palm.

Josiah: You see this? (he began, his voice a mix of warning and bluff) This is but a fraction of what I'm capable of. I'd rather not demonstrate further. Shall we avoid unnecessary complications?

The guards, visibly shaken and exchanging uncertain glances, quickly reassessed their stance. Faced with the prospect of confronting a power they were ill-prepared for, and considering the already heightened tensions from the city's ordeal with Heartless, they stepped aside. The implicit understanding was clear, they were not compensated enough to deal with sorcerers or the supernatural threats that seemed to follow them.

As the trio advanced into the top floor, leaving the guards to their relief, Blizzard turned to Josiah, his expression one of conflicted emotions.

Blizzard: Did we have to intimidate them? Was there no other way?

Josiah: It might not sit well with us, but yes! Our mission here tolerates no delay. Besides, sometimes a display of strength spares us greater conflicts, right?

Amidst the chaos of scattered documents and overturned equipment, Josiah's keen eye caught sight of something—a dossier with a dark red cover, lying beneath a fallen shelf. With a mixture of reverence and excitement, he scooped it up, dust particles dancing in the air around him.

Blizzard watched, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, as Josiah flipped through the file, his expression a blend of concentration and awe. Look at this, Josiah exclaimed, his voice tinged with excitement.

Josiah: This document... it's a goldmine! It details attempts to awaken a comatose wielder, efforts spanning over a century with no success. They've tried everything—advanced stimulation, experimental treatments, even ancient rituals, yet nothing has worked.

Blizzard leaned in, trying to make sense of the words that seemed to leap off the page.

Blizzard: They've documented all of that?

Josiah: Basically. (Josiah confirmed, beginning to relay the findings) The text delves into the profound bond between a wielder and their Keyblade, suggesting it's not merely physical but entwined with the wielder's essence—both heart and mind. This connection empowers the wielder to summon their Keyblade, merging with it in combat.

Josiah: Even more intriguing is the observation that should a wielder's consciousness fragment, their Keyblade remains steadfastly by their side. This indicates the wielder's heart continues to link to their weapon beyond death, offering a bastion against encroaching darkness at a limited range. (Josiah paused, taking a deep breath) The case of the girl we're discussing is particularly fascinating. Despite being in a vegetable state, her Keyblade is perpetually summoned. It's as if the mysteries of the heart and mind extend beyond our current understanding.

Blizzard: They've tried everything...

Chirithy: Her situation mirrors yours, Blizzard. Her essence shattered, a condition akin to a true death. The process to mend your mind was akin to defying the natural order of things.

Josiah: It seems mending back the shattered fragments of a wielder is no simple task. (Josiah mused)

Chirithy: No, it's not.

Blizzard: I must meet her, see with my own eyes. (he stated, his voice betraying his anticipation of understanding more about their shared predicament, despite knowing she might not hold the answers he sought)

They sprinted as they found themselves enveloped by an increasingly cold ambiance, the sterile halls resonating with the distant hum of machinery, untouched by the Heartless. Their path led them to a series of rooms, each brimming with cutting-edge technology, monitors flickering with enigmatic data and symbols.

Pressing onward, their attention was drawn to a grand metallic double door, its surface adorned with complex patterns and emitting a faint neon glow. Blizzard, drawn by an inexplicable urge, stepped forward, his hand reaching out to push the door open. It gave way to reveal a chamber illuminated by a soft, ethereal blue light.

The room was lined with stasis pods, each containing a figure in a state of suspended animation. Among them, adults and women floated in a dark blue liquid, their naked forms barely discernible, suggesting they were in this state due to some incurable affliction. Josiah, in a protective gesture, shielded Blizzard's eyes from the more mature sights, indicating the young Keyblade wielder's age rendered him unprepared for such realities.

At the room's end stood a pod distinct from the others, devoid of the liquid yet connected to the system by tubes that seemed to siphon a magical residue from the occupant, converting it into the healing fluid that filled the other pods. Inside, a young girl, her hair brown, a ponytail on the left side of her hair, her attire intact unlike the others, lay in a serene slumber. Her hand clasped a Keyblade, its design indicative of her prowess, yet it appeared ill-suited for close combat. Its handle wrapped in leather, the blade itself a fusion of metallic and earthen materials, adorned with symbols of growth and renewal.

Blizzard: This... must be her.

Josiah: It seems so. And thankfully, she's been spared the indignity of exposure.

Blizzard: Should I...?

Chirithy: There's only one way to find out.

Summoning 'Frostbite,' Blizzard held it with renewed confidence, noticing the pain from the cold handle had lessened.

Blizzard: How will this work? Please, let this be the answer...

Directing 'Frostbite' towards the girl's pod, he unleashed a beam of light. The attempt was met with an immediate and violent backlash, a shockwave of energy that repelled the beam and sent Blizzard crashing into the wall, his breath stolen by the impact that he felt on his back, clutching at his ribs

Josiah: Are you okay, kid?

Gasping for breath, Blizzard managed to utter.

Blizzard: I couldn't do anything... She's trapped in this state forever, isn't she?

Chirithy: Mending a shattered mind, as i did for you, violates the laws of nature itself. It took over a century to save you, and even then, only because your past is no secret to me. Another Keyblade wielder cannot replicate this feat.

Josiah: So, what was the point of all this?

Chirithy: It was necessary for Blizzard to grasp the enormity of what he faces, to understand the weight of existence itself.

Blizzard, grappling with despair, pondered their next move. His thoughts inevitably turned to a being of immense power and madness.

Blizzard: What if... we sought his aid?

Josiah: Who?

Blizzard: 'The Lunatic.'

Josiah, incredulous, responded.

Josiah: Him?! He's a threat to us all!

Blizzard: But think about it. He wields two Keyblades. That's unheard of. Maybe, just maybe, he knows something we don't.

Josiah: And yet, his goal is the annihilation of all we know. How can we possibly align with such a force? And you. (he glanced at the Dream Eater) Can't you just delve into this girl's mind to mend her?

Chirithy: At what cost? Await four century? The fabric of the mind does not bend to my will so easily without a strong bound and a deep knowledge.

Josiah sighed, a sound heavy with resignation.

Josiah: I supposed as much...

Blizzard, his gaze fixed on the girl through the glass, voiced the turmoil within him.

Blizzard: Then what's our next move? It feels wrong to leave her like this, yet powerless to intervene.

Josiah shifted, his focus returning to the task at hand.

Josiah: Our immediate concern is still Xanderius and the crystal. I recall a staircase near the entrance that might lead us to where we need to be. If the crystal he seeks is below, that's our next step.

Blizzard: And just abandon her? Is there truly nothing we can do?

Chirithy: Your heart is in the right place, Blizzard, but your strength lies not only in what you can do now but what you will be able to do in time. This voyage is far from its end.

Blizzard bit back a bitter retort, the reality of his limitations a hard pill to swallow.

Blizzard: Time... always time. But how much more do we need?

Josiah: Rushing won't solve our problems. We need to focus on what we can affect. Securing the crystal is a step towards a larger goal — one that might eventually lead us back to her with a solution.

Blizzard nodded, reluctantly accepting the logic in Josiah's words, yet the sight of the girl, suspended in time, haunted him. As they turned to leave.

Blizzard: (in his mind) Being chosen by the Keyblade... Where i can find my place in all this mess? (Blizzard pondered silently, the weight of his unspoken words as heavy as the air around them)