The Past...

A steady drizzle fell across the Dark City, slicking the streets and reflecting the faint neon lights that flickered in the emptiness. Shadow moved through the gloom with quiet precision, his crimson eyes narrowed, focused. He could feel it—Roxas was somewhere here.

The promise weighed on him. He had to find the boy. He had to keep his word, no matter the cost.

But as Shadow rounded a corner, his gaze locked onto a figure standing in the misty haze of the rain—a tall silhouette cloaked in black. Even through the rain and shadows, he recognised the presence.

Riku.

Riku stood motionless in the middle of the street, blindfolded, rain dripping from the edges of his coat and long silver hair. The tension between them was immediate. Both knew the darkness they carried—Shadow's link to Black Doom, Riku's connection to Ansem. They were shaped by it, marked by it.

"You're in my way, Riku," Shadow growled, his voice cutting through the rain. He stepped forward, eyes gleaming under the dim city lights. "Move."

Riku didn't move.

"You're wasting your time, Shadow," Riku said calmly, though his voice carried a sharp edge. "All this for her? You don't even know what you're doing."

Shadow's eyes narrowed, fists clenching at his sides.

"I made a promise," he said coldly. "I don't need to explain myself to you."

Riku's posture remained firm, his voice steady.

"You think taking him will solve this? It's not that simple. You don't know what you're up against."

Shadow's temper flared. He took a step forward, the air between them growing heavier.

"You've been following DiZ for so long, you've lost sight of the real problem," Shadow remarked bluntly. "She needs him. And I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."

Riku's jaw tightened as he stepped forward, the rain continuing to fall around them.

"You think chasing after a memory will save her?" he asked, his voice sharp. "Roxas isn't your answer. We need him. You're the one who's lost."

The words stung, but Shadow remained resolute.

"You don't understand what's at stake," Shadow muttered darkly. "If I have to destroy you to keep my promise, I will."

"You really think you can stop me?" Riku asked quietly, a challenge hanging in the air.

The storm raged around them, the rain hammering the streets, and for a moment, neither moved.

Then, with a surge of dark energy, Shadow's Doom Wings erupted from his back. Jagged and imposing, the wings spread wide—black as night, streaked with crimson patterns that pulsed like living veins of energy. Each wing was sharp and angular, like blades forged from darkness itself, crackling with raw power as they stretched to their full span, casting an ominous silhouette against the stormy sky. Shadow's eyes blazed with fury, his stance unyielding, as the wings rippled with dark intensity.

"I won't let you stand in my way," Shadow growled. "I'll keep my promise. No matter what it costs."

Riku's stance shifted, readying for the inevitable.

"If that's what it takes, Shadow... I won't hesitate."

The tension between them was electric, a clash of wills neither could back down from. Once, they had fought together to close the Door to Darkness. Now, they stood on opposite sides of a battle neither could avoid.

Both knew what had to be done. Neither would yield.

And in the heart of the Dark City, the storm between them was about to break.

The Fifth Day - Part 2

Present - Sunset Terrace - Twilight Town

Roxas and Pence walked side by side as they neared the waterfall in Sunset Terrace, the sound of rushing water growing louder with each step. The small courtyard they entered was peaceful, with the waterfall pouring from a brick wall, the shimmering stream catching the last golden rays of the setting sun. Across the way, the train bridge towered high on its pillars, casting long shadows over the area as the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

The tranquility of the place felt almost too perfect, but something gnawed at Roxas—a lingering sense that everything wasn't as calm as it appeared. He scanned the courtyard, but Hayner was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Hayner?" Roxas asked, frowning as he looked around the empty space.

Pence shrugged, glancing around as well.

"Weird. He said he'd meet us here," he affirmed.

Roxas's gaze shifted toward the waterfall, unease settling in his stomach.

"So, what's the wonder with this place again?" Roxas asked.

Pence brightened at the question, his usual excitement for Twilight Town's mysteries bubbling up.

"They say if you look into the waterfall, you'll see your doppelganger staring back at you," he explained.

"Isn't that just your reflection?" Roxas countered, clearly not impressed.

Pence grinned as he replied.

"Only one way to find out."

With a roll of his eyes, Roxas stepped forward and approached the waterfall. The cool mist brushed against his skin as he leaned in closer, peering into the water. All he saw was his reflection—a distorted image of himself in the rippling surface. He sighed, shaking his head.

"It's just my reflection," he muttered, turning back toward Pence.

But Pence didn't respond. Roxas blinked, confused. His friend stood still, frozen in place, his eyes wide open.

"Pence? What's wrong?" Roxas asked, his voice edged with concern.

Still, Pence didn't move, his expression locked.

Suddenly, a low voice echoed from the waterfall, sending a chill down Roxas's spine.

"Roxas."

Roxas spun around, eyes wide as he faced the waterfall. From the misty veil, a dark figure emerged—familiar and unmistakable. Sleek, composed, with glowing red eyes that cut through the gloom.

It was Shadow.

He stepped forward, the cascading water parting around him effortlessly, his every movement purposeful and intense. The air grew heavier with his presence, an unspoken tension hanging between them.

"It's... you," Roxas whispered, his heart pounding as the realization sank in.

Shadow's gaze never wavered as he approached, his expression unreadable, his voice calm but commanding.

"We need to talk," Shadow said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

Roxas narrowed his eyes, a mix of confusion and frustration building.

"Why are you stalking me? And how do you even know me? How—how do I even know your name, Shadow?" he questioned.

Shadow's gaze remained fixed, his expression unreadable, but his bluntness cut through the tension.

"I don't have time for games. We need to move things along," he said with a firm tone.

"What?" Roxas asked, his mind racing. "Move along where? What are you even talking about?"

Shadow stepped closer, his voice low.

"You've been dreaming, haven't you? Visions of a boy—Sora. You feel it. That connection. But you don't know why."

Roxas tensed at the mention of Sora. The dreams, the strange sense of familiarity—it all surged to the surface.

"I… I do feel a connection to him, but why? Who is he to me?" he questioned

Shadow's eyes flickered with a trace of impatience.

"You already know the answer," he affirmed. "You just haven't accepted it yet. You need to return."

Roxas blinked, confused.

"Return?" he asked. "Return where?"

"To where you belong," Shadow said bluntly, taking a step back. "Do that, and I can help someone close to me."

Roxas furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of Shadow's cryptic words.

"Someone close to you? Who?" he asked.

Shadow turned slightly, his form beginning to shimmer as if preparing to vanish.

"Go to the hill. You'll see."

"Wait—what hill? Sunset Hill?" Roxas called after him, frustration bubbling up. "What's going on?"

But Shadow's form disappeared in an instant, leaving only his voice echoing in the air, cryptic and haunting.

"You'll see… Return, and all your questions will be answered," Shadow's voice said cryptically.

Roxas stood there, staring at the spot where Shadow had vanished, his heart racing and his mind swirling with more questions than answers. The waterfall continued to cascade behind him, but the tranquility of the place was long gone.

"Go to the hill..." Roxas muttered.

Whatever Shadow was trying to tell him, it felt important—urgent. But before he could dwell on it, he heard movement behind him.

Pence blinked, looking around as if nothing had happened.

"Ah, figures. It's just the reflection—probably weird because of the sunset. Well, another one ticked off," Pence stated.

Roxas whipped around, confusion plastered on his face.

"Wait, didn't you see him?" he remarked.

"See who?" Pence asked, giving Roxas a blank look.

Roxas hesitated, the word on the tip of his tongue.

"Sha—" He caught himself just in time. "...the shadowy figure, you know? Lurking around town. The other wonder you mentioned earlier."

Pence frowned, scratching his head.

"What? That's not one of the Seven Wonders..." he replied.

Roxas stared at him, bewildered.

"But you said it earlier, at The Usual Spot! About some shadowy figure…"

Pence raised an eyebrow, concern creeping into his voice.

"Roxas, you sure you're alright?" he replied with concern. "I said something about the shadowy doppelgänger, not a figure lurking around town," he confirmed.

Roxas froze, his thoughts racing. Shadow had been messing with him, making reality change. None of this made sense anymore. He felt like he was losing grip on what was real.

"I… yeah, I guess I just… mixed it up," he mumbled, though deep down, he knew something more was happening.

Pence sighed, giving Roxas a friendly pat on the back.

"Come on, man. Let's head to Sunset Hill. The Phantom Woman is the next wonder. Hayner is probably there with Olette."

Without another word, Roxas broke into a run, darting off toward Sunset Hill, ignoring the confusion pounding in his head.

"Hey, wait up!" Pence called after him, beginning to chase after his friend.

As the distance between them grew, Roxas couldn't help but feel the urgency rising within him. Shadow's cryptic words echoed in his mind.

The Phantom Woman on Sunset Hill

The sun dipped low as Roxas sprinted up the path to Sunset Hill, his breath coming in quick, anxious bursts. The sky above was painted in fiery hues of orange and pink, casting long shadows over the grassy slope. His friends were nowhere in sight—Hayner and Olette had vanished, and Pence lagged far behind. An unsettling chill crawled along Roxas's spine as he reached the top of the hill.

He looked around, scanning the area. Sunset Hill stretched out before him, the town below basked in the warm glow of dusk. But then he saw her—a faintly glowing figure standing at the edge of the hill, her back turned toward him. She seemed almost ethereal. Roxas froze, his mind slipping into a whirlwind of confusion and half-remembered memories. He couldn't place her, but something about the sight tugged at him, a feeling he couldn't shake.

Slowly, cautiously, Roxas took a step closer. The figure remained still, her outline glowing softly in the fading light. She had short blue hair that swayed gently in the breeze, and she wore a high-collared halter top in shades of black and blue, accented by two pink belts crossing over her chest. White bell-sleeves adorned her arms, and her legs were clad in black stockings, leaving only a small glimpse of skin at her upper thighs. Silver, pointed boots with sharp hooks glinted in the evening light. Even from behind, she seemed both strong and fragile, like she was a part of this world and yet distant from it.

Roxas swallowed hard, his voice wavering as he called out.

"Who... who are you?" he asked.

The figure slowly turned to face him, revealing striking blue eyes that seemed to hold a deep, unspoken sadness. Her gaze pierced through the space between them, and for a moment, Roxas felt like he was staring into a memory he couldn't place.

"Do not be afraid," she said softly, her voice echoing as if carried by the wind. "You need to return."

The words sent a chill through Roxas. He staggered back, his thoughts spiraling into a haze of confusion. He had heard those words before—just minutes ago, from Shadow. But why? Why did both this mysterious figure and Shadow speak as if they knew something he didn't?

"Return...?" Roxas echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. "What are you talking about? Why does everyone keep saying that?"

The phantom woman's eyes softened, but her expression remained distant, like she was seeing something beyond him.

"It's what must be. It's what he wants—what he promised," she said softly.

Roxas's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of her cryptic words.

"He... you mean Shadow? You know him, right?"

The ghostly figure's lips curved into a faint, sorrowful smile, barely there.

"A promise... he is bound by it. And you are the key to keeping it. You remind me so much of..."

Roxas felt a shudder pass through him, a strange familiarity tingling at the edge of his mind.

"Of who?" he pressed, taking a step closer. "Who do I remind you of?"

The phantom's gaze lingered on him, her voice a gentle murmur.

"You look like him... like... V—"

But before she could finish, a voice called out from behind.

"Roxas!"

Roxas spun around, seeing Pence and the others rushing up the path, their faces filled with concern.

"Roxas, are you okay? You just ran off!" Pence called out, his tone laced with worry.

Roxas turned back, but the glowing figure had vanished, replaced by a familiar sight. Mrs. Watanabe, the kindly old woman who ran the town's candy shop, stood at the edge of the hill, gazing out over Twilight Town like she often did during the evenings. She turned to face Roxas, her expression gentle, her eyes warm with a knowing smile.

"Roxas? Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice soft. "I like to come here at sunset. It helps me think."

Roxas blinked, utterly bewildered. The eerie glow and the haunting voice were gone, leaving only Mrs. Watanabe, standing peacefully on the hilltop. She turned back to the sunset, her expression distant, as though lost in thought. His friends gathered around, and Roxas struggled to piece together what had just happened.

Pence gave him a worried look, while Hayner and Olette exchanged glances.

"Hey, you sure you're alright?" Pence asked, concern evident in his voice. "You looked like you saw a ghost."

Roxas forced a laugh, though it came out shakier than he intended.

"Yeah... maybe I did…"

"You mean the Phantom Woman?" Olette asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Yeah," Roxas replied with a slow nod, still trying to wrap his mind around the encounter.

"But it's just Mrs. Watanabe," Pence said, sounding relieved. "Meaning this is another bogus rumor."

Hayner glanced at the older woman and offered her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, ma'am. We thought you might've been the Phantom Woman of Sunset Hill. You know, one of those Seven Wonders rumours."

Olette stepped forward with an apologetic look.

"I hope we didn't bother you," she apologised.

Mrs. Watanabe chuckled softly, her eyes crinkling as she smiled, still looking over the town.

"Oh, no offense taken, dear. I come here most evenings. It's a lovely spot to remember old friends, don't you think?"

Roxas watched her, his thoughts still racing with the memory of the glowing figure and her cryptic words. He glanced toward the spot where the phantom had stood, half-expecting a trace of that other presence, but there was nothing—only the fading light of the sun, casting long shadows across the hill.

"Yeah… it is," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else, the words lingering in the air.

Despite his friends' reassurances, the encounter and Shadow's message still gnawed at him, like he was on the edge of uncovering something far bigger than he could understand.

Restoration at 87%.

"Well, that went better than I expected," Ansem admitted, his gaze fixed on the monitors. "Shadow kept it short and sweet with Roxas. No chaos, no mess."

"Yes…" the man in red bandages mused, not looking away from the flickering screens in front of him. "But I still find that hedgehog unpredictable. His restraint doesn't guarantee he won't disrupt things later."

Ansem leaned against the edge of the console, his expression thoughtful.

"The Phantom Woman… you think she could stir something? Awaken memories that shouldn't be touched yet?" he asked.

The man's eye flickered with a brief, almost imperceptible interest.

"It's possible," he admitted. "If Roxas recalls more, it could accelerate the merging, but there's a risk. Shadow's involvement might shift the balance, make him see things that aren't part of our plan."

"You're not working with Shadow… or her, are you?" Ansem asked bluntly.

The man let out a dry, humorless chuckle, finally turning to face Ansem, though his expression remained hidden beneath the red wrappings.

"No. Let's just say, I'm still not on Shadow's Christmas card list," he affirmed. "But it does seem he's received information I wasn't aware of. Perhaps from her, perhaps from somewhere else. He's always one step ahead, isn't he?"

Ansem frowned, crossing his arms.

"You think he's playing us?" he asked.

"Maybe," the man replied, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Or maybe he's improvising, trying to find a way to fulfill that promise he clings to so desperately. Regardless, once this is over—when our guardianship is no longer needed—he'll come for what he wants. He'll come to finish what he started."

"And if he does?" Ansem asked, raising an eyebrow, his voice holding a hint of challenge.

The man's eye narrowed, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest of his chair.

"Then we'll be ready. We've shaped the board, after all. But as long as Shadow keeps moving, the game remains unpredictable."

Meanwhile...

In a pristine white room, Naminé stood silently before an egg-shaped pod, her delicate fingers brushing along its smooth surface. Her expression was thoughtful, her usually calm demeanor tinged with a quiet urgency. The soft glow of the room cast a gentle light over her, illuminating the uncertainty in her eyes.

"It's almost time," she murmured to herself, her voice barely breaking the silence.

A low voice echoed from behind her, carrying a hint of impatience.

"Is that so?"

Naminé turned to see Shadow, his arms crossed. His red eyes gleamed with their usual intensity, but there was a hint of expectation in his gaze—something deeper, something waiting. He unfolded his arms and stepped forward, his movements smooth and deliberate, the silence of the space broken by his presence.

"You've done your part," Naminé said, her voice steady as she straightened. "Once Roxas returns on the train, I'll take over. But I trust you nudged him in the right direction?"

Shadow's expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of irritation in his eyes.

"I did what you asked. Kept my distance, gave him a few hints. Made sure he was asking questions—moving closer to Sora. But I'm not here to chat, Naminé. We had a deal."

Naminé nodded, her expression serious as she stepped past the pod.

"I remember. Follow me."

She walked toward a door on the other side of the room, her footsteps light against the white floor. Shadow followed closely behind, his curiosity tempered by the weight of his expectations. The corridor beyond the door was equally stark, stretching out like a passage between realities, its walls lined with dimly glowing panels.

As they walked, Shadow's voice cut through the silence, low and edged with a hint of skepticism.

"How difficult has it been, keeping our little arrangement hidden from the most paranoid man across the many worlds?" he questioned.

Naminé's lips curled into a faint, weary smile.

"It hasn't been easy. He sees nearly everything," she admitted. "But I've managed to keep him focused on Roxas's memories... and away from other distractions." She glanced at Shadow, her expression softening. "It's a risk, but some things are worth the risk."

Shadow let out a short, dry laugh, though there was a dark edge to it.

"Let's hope you're right. He won't take it well if he finds out," he affirmed.

Naminé stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, turning to face Shadow.

"We both know he won't, but it's not about him right now."

She placed her hand against the door, and it slid open, revealing a small, dimly lit chamber. At the center, resting on a pedestal, was a sword—its blade sleek and silver, its hilt adorned with intricate designs that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow.

"The Sword of the Lumarians," Naminé remarked. "As promised."

Shadow's eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, studying the weapon. He recognised the design, though the name of its true owner remained unspoken between them.

"So this is it, huh" he said, his voice low, almost reverent. "It looks... different."

Naminé nodded, her expression softening.

"It wasn't easy to retrieve. I had to be careful not to disturb... him. But it should help your friend, for now," she said thoughtfully.

Shadow reached out, taking the hilt of the sword in his gloved hand. The weight of it felt familiar, yet there was a dormant power within, waiting to be awakened. He glanced back at Naminé, his expression unreadable.

"You've held up your end, then. I'll make sure this gets to the right place," he remarked.

Naminé watched him, her face calm but her blue eyes carrying a silent plea.

"Just remember, Shadow. If you want him to find his way, you can't push too hard. Let him make the choice."

Shadow's grip tightened around the hilt, his gaze lingering on the blade for a moment longer.

"I know. But that doesn't mean I'll stand by and do nothing," he warned.

With a final nod to Naminé, he turned and walked back down the corridor, the sword at his side, its faint glow casting a shadow against the white walls. Naminé watched him go, her thoughts lingering on the fragile balance they were all trying to maintain. She could only hope that the choices they had made would lead to something better.

As Shadow's figure disappeared into the hallway, she turned back to the pod, her fingers brushing the smooth surface once more.

"It's almost time..." she whispered again, though this time, she wasn't sure if she was reassuring herself or the one inside.

Back at Sunset Hill

"Okay, so today has been pretty much a bust..." Hayner sighed, his shoulders slumping as he trudged down the path from Sunset Hill.

"You can say that again," Olette muttered, casting a frustrated glance at the fading light.

The group made their way down the winding path, a little more subdued than they'd been earlier in the day. The wonders they investigated turned out to be nothing more than mundane occurrences and rumors.

"Well, cheer up!" Pence said, trying to inject some enthusiasm back into the group. "The sixth wonder is going to be really great! I mean, everyone knows about this one."

"The ghost train, right?" Roxas asked, glancing over at Pence.

Pence nodded eagerly, his earlier disappointment fading away.

"Yeah! They say it appears at the station even when there's no schedule, and no one is supposed to be on board. People have seen it coming and going without a conductor or passengers. It's the real deal!"

Hayner perked up slightly, intrigued despite himself.

"I mean, it does sound kinda cool," he said. "It has to be way better than staring at my own reflection or counting steps again."

Olette smiled faintly, catching some of Pence's excitement.

"Yeah, and it'll be dark enough soon that we might actually see it."

Roxas couldn't help but feel a little curious himself, though the memory of his encounter with the phantom woman lingered in the back of his mind. He glanced back up toward Sunset Hill, half-expecting to see a faint glow or the silhouette of a figure against the darkening sky. But there was nothing, only the deepening twilight.

"Well, let's go see if this ghost train is all it's cracked up to be," Hayner said, his usual determination returning. "Maybe it'll be the one wonder that isn't just some trick."

"Yeah, let's hope so," Roxas replied, his mind drifting back to Shadow's cryptic words and the strange encounter on the hill. He couldn't shake the feeling that the train might hold more than just another rumour.

With renewed energy, the group made their way back toward the station, the air around them growing cooler as the last light of day faded.

The Ghost Train

The four friends arrived back at Sunset Station, settling in for their stakeout, determined to see if this "Ghost Train" was more than just another overblown rumor.

They waited on the platform, watching as the last light of the sun slipped behind the rooftops. Twilight stretched long shadows across the empty station. Hayner paced back and forth, muttering to himself, while Olette leaned against a pillar, her arms crossed, stifling a yawn. Pence kept glancing down the tracks, his enthusiasm unwavering despite the growing stillness. Roxas, for his part, stood on the edge of the platform, feeling the weight of the day settle on him.

As the minutes ticked by, the excitement they had carried to the station began to wane. The air was thick with the lazy humidity of summer, but the deepening shadows brought a coolness that nipped at their skin, making them shift uncomfortably.

"I think this is going to be another dud," Hayner sighed, his voice breaking the silence. "Just like all the others."

"Yeah… probably," Olette agreed, her tone tinged with disappointment as she rubbed her arms against the creeping chill.

Pence kept his eyes fixed on the tracks, hopeful despite himself.

"I don't know... Let's give it a few more minutes. Maybe we'll get lucky," he suggested.

Roxas remained quiet, his thoughts drifting back to the strange encounters earlier that day—the phantom woman, the cryptic words from Shadow. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was just out of reach, slipping through his fingers like sand.

Then, cutting through the stillness, they heard it: the distant, mournful whistle of a train.

Roxas snapped to attention, his eyes widening. The sound grew louder, and from the shadows down the track, a shape emerged—vague at first, then unmistakable. A blue and gold train rolled slowly into the station, its sides decorated with intricate designs of stars and moons that shimmered in the last rays of twilight. Its lights glowed with a soft, ethereal blue, casting strange patterns across the platform as it drew closer.

"Guys, do you see it? Look!" Roxas exclaimed, turning to his friends with a mix of excitement and disbelief.

But as he turned, his excitement turned to confusion. Hayner, Pence, and Olette stood frozen in place, their eyes wide and unblinking, as if time itself had stopped around them.

"Oh, come on. Not again!" Roxas muttered in disbelief and annoyance.

He spun back around, steam hissing from the train's pistons, filling the platform with a thick, swirling fog that obscured everything.

Suddenly, through the mist, a voice called out.

"Hey, pal. Long time no see!"

Roxas's breath caught. That voice—it triggered something deep within his memory, something from his dreams. He clenched his fists, his voice shaking as he called out into the steam.

"Son... Sonic?"

There was a pause, and then the voice came again, still unseen beyond the haze.

"Yeah, that's right. Took you long enough to remember," the voice teased, but his tone became serious. "But listen, time's running out. You've got to get back on track. No more wandering, got it?"

Roxas strained to see through the thick fog, trying to make out the source of the voice. He stepped closer to the edge of the platform, feeling an urgency that he couldn't quite explain.

"I don't understand... What do you mean, back on track? What am I supposed to do?" Roxas questioned.

A soft chuckle came through the steam, tinged with warmth.

"You'll figure it out, kid. Just keep moving forward. Don't let them pull you off the path—you've got more people counting on you than you know."

Before Roxas could ask anything more, the steam began to thin, the sound of the train fading as quickly as it had come. He blinked, his vision clearing—and suddenly, he was back on the empty platform. No train, no steam. His friends were back to normal, looking around in confusion.

Hayner scratched his head, looking around as if he'd just woken from a daze.

"Okay... where did that whistle come from? Did anyone see a train?" he asked in confusion.

Olette frowned, glancing toward the empty tracks.

"I thought I heard something, but... I didn't see anything," she replied.

Pence shook his head and let out a sigh, glancing around.

"Nothing showed up, man..." he admitted.

Roxas spun around, his expression adamant.

"No, I saw it. It was right here!" Roxas exclaimed, he was adamant in his tone. "A blue and gold train with stars and moons—it pulled into the station. Didn't you guys see it?"

Hayner raised an eyebrow, giving Roxas a skeptical look.

"Uh, no. Dude, we've been standing here the whole time," he explained. "We didn't see any ghost train. We heard that whistle, and then... nothing."

Olette nodded in agreement, looking concerned.

"Roxas, are you sure you're okay?" she asked. "It's been a long day."

Pence shrugged, his enthusiasm waning.

"Let's just head back. We've spent enough time chasing shadows," he said, his tone full of disappointment.

Roxas looked down the tracks, his frustration building. He knew what he saw and heard—the train, the voice, the steam—but now it felt like a fleeting memory, slipping through his fingers. He scanned the empty platform one last time, searching for any trace of what he had experienced, but there was nothing—just the quiet hum of the summer night drawing in, the warm breeze rustling through the trees.

"Yeah... sure," he muttered, his voice trailing off.

Restoration at 90%.

Back in the dimly lit room, the man in red bandages sat at his usual post, the glow of monitors casting shadows across his face. Ansem stood behind him, arms folded, his expression sharp as he watched the streams of data flicker across the screens.

"Why show him the train?" Ansem asked, his tone measured but tinged with curiosity.

The man's eye glinted with a hint of amusement, a rare smirk curling beneath the bandages.

"Because he missed his trip to the beach," he explained.

"That's... somewhat kind of you," Ansem replied in suprise.

A dry laugh escaped the man's lips, filled with a mixture of humor and bitterness.

"Don't mistake it for kindness. It's simply a reminder—something to keep him searching, questioning. A small nudge in the right direction."

"And why use that voice? Why Sonic?" Ansem probed.

The man's smirk grew, but his reply was cryptic, evasive.

"Familiarity has a way of making you listen... even if you don't know why. A voice from a dream, a whisper from a memory he can't quite place. It stirs up those buried feelings. Makes him question what's real." He leaned back, letting out a low hum of satisfaction as he watched the screens. "Besides... it's always fun to play with echoes of what 'could have been'."

Ansem's frown deepened, his gaze lingering on the flickering image of Roxas on the screen. The man in red was always one step ahead, always scheming, twisting reality to his whims. Ansem couldn't decide if it was genius or madness—or both.

"And what do you think he'll do now?" Ansem asked, his voice almost challenging.

The man's eye glowed faintly beneath his bandages as he turned back to the screens, a shadow of satisfaction crossing his face.

"What he's meant to do—follow the path. The rest is up to him."

Ansem said nothing more, but the unease between them remained, a quiet tension lingering in the hum of the room.

Part 2 is done.

I was hoping to get everything into this chapter, but a 3rd entry will be needed.

Thanks again for all the support. I appreciate all the reviews and feedback.

I'm glad to see everyone was happy to see Shadow appear. He's role in this story is going to be huge. So, more Shadow to come folks!

Part 3 will be out in a few days. Thanks everyone!