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“Angel of Twilight: Clockwork Breakdown”	By : HappyDragon Category: Kingdom Hearts > Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 8242 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Key:
“Talking aloud”
‘Thinking to one’s self’
/Nobody Language/
[Heartless Language]
::Denotes sound effects:: ::and action.:: Only used during speech.
Major P.O.V./Scene Change: * * * *
A/N: My notes/comments/ramblings
{Beta’s musings & Comments}
~~Song Lyrics~~
Chapter Start/End: ------

A/N: [[Removed to comply with new AFF guidelines. Please see the MM.org version for full A/Ns: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/156268]]

Rating: Somewhere between pg-16 and NC-17.

|Spoilers|: There are some light spoilers for all three games.

|Warning|: The usual. Beware OOC-ness. Also beware the language, angst, and psychological trauma to Riku. Also, minor assault on logic which will take several chapters to be resolved . . . once characters realize that 2 & 2 suddenly = spoon. However, feel free to point out the plot-hole--or others I haven’t noticed--and even keep track of it’s progression, because if I can’t fix it, then I fail as a writer--and human-like being--and I’ll need everyone’s help to see if I get it right.

Betaed by: ‘CrimsonEnigma’

Criticism: Constructive only. Non-Axel flamers need not respond.

Reviews:
AkuRokuloveNo worries. Review to your heart’s content! ^_^ 46 pgs isn’t madness! . . . It just isn’t sane. XD Mmm, and which points were the good points? Or do you mean my theories of doom? Good, I was worried that I made Roxas a little too dry or mechanical.

Well now he knows. ^.^ Aw, I’m not smart, just observant of what others have been saying . . . And I think too much. ^_^;

What is that he keeps repeating? Hmmm . . . might be something important . . . Might be nothing . . . You’ll find out. Not sure how soon, but don’t forget about it.

X.@ Well I said review your heart out . . .

That’s something that you’ll find out about in a few chapters. Four at the most. Unless I get rrreeeeeeeeaaaaalllly freakishly off-track.

O___O; A third time . . . . but once again I don’t see your comment. ;-;

Higuchimon ::Huuuuuuuuuugs:: Oh I have to send you all the updated versions of all the chapters, including this one and ‘Grief's Adept’. That’s going to be fun for you, I’ll bet. XD

I was going for that, glad to see you liked and it worked. I had a class entirely on Shakespeare, so I have the whole ‘rubber-band’ analogy in my head when I write. Stretch the tension almost to the breaking point with drama, then snap it back with humor before the audience riots in their seats. XD And ya know, Axel just needed some ass. ::Is beamed w/Roxas’ Oblivion Keyblade:: x.x;

MMmmmaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe? As said before, give it 4 chapters. Hell, you’ll probably get the answer to that next chapter.

But since both you and ARLove asked . . . . I’m going to be doing a series of fics that chronicle the pre-incarnations of Numbers I - XII, as we know all the important stuff about Sora’s life, and there’s enough fics out there about that as it is. And if there isn’t, there’s enough AU ones where he’s a normal kid in college or high-school to make up for it! These fics with be the official back stories . . . for my AU/AR ‘Angel of Twilight’ . . . which has taken on a life of it’s own, that I no longer control . . . .

Expect canon to cry.

Xendrassk You need to de-lurk more often! ::Calls of ‘pot calling the kettle black’ spring up from the background:: . . . . .

Anyway!

I can’t die that easily! . . . It just looks like I do. v.v; Well, here’s a new chapter! Maybe I’ll get a new review? . . . . Or maybe Ansem will? ::Is Glared down by Riku A.I.: Meep!

Disclaimer: First off, me no own teh Kingdom Hearts-ness. This story are for funzors. Second off, I’m shamelessly lifting concepts wholesale from [Dark Ki], over at LiveJournal . . . which are still semi-common in the fandom, but damn it, she needs to be thanked! And lastly, I’m splicing in songs this round, which will be important later, but I don’t own them. They are: “Going Down In Flames”; and “Ticket to Heaven” both of which are by 3 Doors Down (which some ppl spell out, Three Doors Down) along with parts of “Cure My Tragedy (A Letter to God)” by Cold spliced with a bit of “Tourniquet” by Evanescence. Granted, not everyone knows these songs, but they all contain their names in the lyrics somewhere, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to tell them apart. The only weird bit will be splicing Cure and Tourniquet together, like switching between the two and warping/remixing the later slightly. Sorry, it should be obvious when I do it, but if it doesn’t make sense, smack me with a review and I’ll straighten things out.

And now, the larch!
-----------------------
“Angel of Twilight; Clockwork Breakdown” Part 6/?
‘Morning Aftermath’

The steady sounds of a mumbled prayer (which he suspected was simply, “Oh Gods no, please Gods no.”) was the first thing that warned him of the mission’s failure. As promised, the King of Disney Castle did not in fact sleep last night, only conserve his energy via meditation. It was a trick he’d picked up in his studies of and travels to other worlds, and was most useful in times when true sleep could be the death of him. Meditation meant that he still had some idea of his surroundings, as in this case where Riku’s awakening had spurred Mickey out of his trancelike state. The teen was tangled in his covers, trying in desperation to claw his way from the bed. The mouse hesitated only a short moment to orient himself.

Riku had been held captive all night, according to the clock.

In a single bound the sovereign was over to the bed and ripped the covers free of the boy.

The teen’s eyes were wild and watering. For a moment Riku stopped moving, as if unsure of himself or what was happening. Then it seemed everything ordered itself out in his mind, he gave a pathetic gurgling whimper, then bolted up from where he was to race into the bathroom. In his mad dash he didn’t even attempt to shut the door, just simply turn on the lights in the white room.

The chant changed, it now had calls of, “That bastard! That bastard,” mixed in.

Time slowed, almost to the point of stopping, as King Mickey’s mind shifted into hyper-drive. They had failed. Asking Riku if he was alright was pointless as he was anything but. The mouse had no idea how things had gone wrong. Normally he would give the boy room and time to recover, but the door was left open. There was a marginal (read accidental only) chance that Riku might hurt himself. It was a fifty-fifty shot if his friend would accept comfort or reject contact--

His body moved just as his mind snapped the cohesive decision together. Riku needed him. Mickey just wouldn’t touch him without provocation lest the boy panic.

The silver haired child was hunched over the toilet, still dressed in his bed clothes. From the sound of things he had given over to dry heaving.

“Riku? What happened? What’s happening?” Calm, clear, slow. Breathe, wait, exhale.

“Oh Gods, I--” more retching. Silence, and then, “I was wrong--I didn’t know what,” the human gulped down air to settle his thoughts. “I didn’t get a chance to fight him. He--we were . . . already--” Riku violently shook his head in negation. “Doesn’t matter,” lifting his head away from the bowl, he faced the mouse King with streaming orbs of turquoise. “I can’t fight him like I used to anymore. And the thing just . . . he’s evil.” The boy had no more words for it.

“Riku,” Mickey brought his hands close, but just short of touching the traumatized teen. He’d barely stopped himself in time, and swallowed around the forming lump in his throat. “Can you tell me anything about what it did to you?”

The idea, or possibly the act itself, of recalling the previous night seemed to physically pain the youth. Shivers rippled over his pubescent frame, before escalating into another round of not-so-dry heaving. Thankfully the lad was able to reorient himself in time.

Paternal instinct got the better of him and Mickey lightly patted his friend between the shoulder blades. “We’ll get through this,” the King assured him, “we’ll think of something. If Sora, Donald and Goofy could weaken and banish it, then we should be able to stop it for good!” He would not fail the boy again; he would make up for his carelessness in the strange white-rose castle. Still Mickey continued to rub and pat at Riku’s convulsing back, knowing that the silver child was far too strung out to use any healing magicks on. However, the attack soon subsided, and the human was able to sit up again.

To Mickey’s horror he saw--much more clearly when Riku turned--that a trickle of black seeped from the corners of the boy’s mouth.

“Riku--”

“I know.” The teen wiped off the ooze onto his right hand. “This is his darkness.” He flicked the goo into the toilet. “It’s dead, pretty much inert once it leaves the body. It won’t make more Heartless, or really do anything other than continue to degrade into nothingness.” He shook his head, then flushed the basin, still moving somewhat sluggishly.

“Riku,” Mickey was apprehensive, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer to his question. “Riku, how do you know all that?”

Sea-green eyes swept over the all too neat floor tiles. They shifted over walls and ceiling, the mirror and other fixtures, anywhere that wasn’t the Keyblade master’s face. “I j-just do.”

“Riku, please. . . . It’s not a good sign that you know all that. I can’t help if I don’t know--”

“No!!” He threw his hands into his hair, squeezing his eyes shut and curled down into himself. “I-I can’t!” Not again. “Don’t make me remember . . .” those hands over his skin, those fingers inside his warmth, that gentle rapture, that mocking nature . . .

Mickey took in a quick breath. Too fast. But it was a telling blow; the fiend wasn’t attacking just his body, he was concentrating on the child’s mind. “I’m sorry.” The King wound a second arm around his charge. “No more pushing. No more ‘when you’re ready’, just ‘if’.” He would have to be delicate, for without knowing what had happened, Mickey had no idea what could set Riku off. The irony was that every reaction he drew from the teen would paint a clearer picture of what had happened then any story Riku might choose to share with him.

He sat with the shivering silver boy in silence, allowing himself and his shirt to be a catchall for anguished tears.

* * * * * *

Standing under the almost ridiculously hot jets of water coming from the shower head, Riku at last let his muscles relax. Once he’d shaken and cried himself out, the teen had asked Mickey to leave so that he could clean up. Right now he was tired, scared, and possibly a little crazed, because of the physiological repercussions Ansem was wreaking on his body.

That, and he was slightly horny. Or rather, that part of his body was sensitized (when it shouldn’t have been) and demanding his attention. Of course the water wasn’t helping his case, nor was his mind. Even as he worked the lather through his hair, his thoughts were busily chasing each other in circles.

Some of the things Ansem did felt good. But then they’d probably feel just as good if it was Sora or Kairi doing that to him where applicable. He did not love Ansem or hold him in any form of affection for that matter. But his body reacted anyway. The dark one’s memory banks provided him information on the emotional state of lust (not that he’d gone looking through the Heartless Lord’s head, the info just sort of ‘rushed him’). But Riku felt even that emotion was too good for him to project onto the beast. He didn’t like reacting to Ansem, even if reacting itself was nice he just couldn’t abide the fact that it was to him.

Did that mean the dark one had control of his pleasure center?

No, it was unlikely he had full control of anything. Yet.

Riku grimaced, rinsing out the shampoo. He hated the man for that ‘yet’; hated knowing that it was the bastard’s goal. After all the foam was washed away, he looked down at himself, at his newly christened boyhood (he couldn’t consider it his ‘manhood’ until eighteen or marriage). The power to turn him on . . . surely that force didn’t rest solely in Ansem’s hands? He could . . . cater to himself, right? It was thoughts of his friends that excited his body, no?

Riku moved so that he faced the far end of the tub, and that the sprays of water cascaded only over his back. Yes, had to prove to himself that Ansem didn’t have this power over him, that he could deliver pleasure to himself. Right, the scholar wasn’t responsible for his . . . ‘explosions of joy’.

The teen swallowed and reached down, remembering some of what had been done to him. Steady and slow at first, just hand over flesh, with some water to lubricate. The water was a nice touch, but nothing was--oh right. Riku thought of his friends, thought of them doing this with him, helping him, guiding him.

He rose, slightly, to the occasion.

Thoughts and feelings were the key then. He closed his eyes and imagined what it might be like if Sora . . . snuck up behind him and started to lay kisses up his back. Yes, the brunet would begin near his tailbone, maybe run his tongue over the lower vertebra, and continue upward, murmuring little things as he worked his way to Riku’s neck. Oh yeah, yeah that would be nice, Sora kissing and sucking on the back and sides of his neck.

But Kairi? Kairi would be entertaining his front. She would skip onto the scene, brushing her fingertips over his thighs, stroking upward, inward. She would pivot and twirl, and end up facing him as she ran her hands along the sensitive flesh of his inseam. Her whispers of love would suddenly break into giggles and Sora would giggle too in a secret code that they liked to torture Riku with. Suddenly the duo would be massaging him, Kairi where she had been touching him, and Sora would knead his ass, and all the time Riku would be helpless to do anything but play with himself.

His body shivered with the idea: to be held down by them.

Riku groaned, that thought alone brought heat to every pour in his body.

Gods yes, Kairi’s hands would skim up as she leaned in, shying away from his groin but fully willing to play with and explore him. Those hands would sweep over his stomach, abbs, maybe massage his nipples, but the arms would come to rest over his shoulders and she would be pressed flush to his naked body, and her bare body would be aligned just right as she nibbled his lips, kissed him deep, dueled him with her tongue . . .

Sora would nibble him up too, but he’d work on the elder one’s ears. And the blue eyed boy would have also amused himself with the pert rump of his friend, but eventually he too would press his nude self against the silver male. Sora’s fingers would slip down and into Riku’s cleft--not too deep . . . scratch that. Riku wanted to feel his friend’s fingertips brush over his entrance, and he softly moaned again as his arousal jumped at the idea. So Sora’s fingertips would touch him there, sliding down from the small of his back, and then continue downwards to brush the underside of his tush, sweep back out over the sides, the brunet’s whole hands sliding and gliding over the meat of his milky ass, until they passed over his alabaster hips--

Would Sora grab his hips and jerk himself forward, tight against Riku? No . . . no not at first, and maybe not ever. Sora was kind and loving and sweet and innocent and wouldn’t feel comfortable being that forward with him--with them--at first. It was the same with Kairi and why she still was very timid about actually touching his bare cock. Wearing clothes and all three of them were fine. Being sky-clad and the difference in their experiences showed.

So Sora would hold Riku’s hips in his hands for a moment as he stepped himself flush against him. Then the brunet’s hands and arms would wrap around his waist, and Riku would be surrounded by the love of his friends. Their sweet and caring nature would soothe all the pain and torment he felt, and the anguish and longing and loathing for what he’d done to them--to their world.

But only when he went limp in their arms and opened himself to them, only when he bared his throat to them and gave up all his defenses, only when he was being held down and dominated and watched over, and stroked and loved and cared for by them, restrained from hurting them, filled and surrounded and directed and manipulated to their liking, would he begin to feel and actually be forgiven his crimes.

The idea was so strong, to give up leadership to someone else so that he might rest in their hands . . .

Riku shuddered with a long sigh, and found perfection in the moment.

When the teen opened his eyes again, he saw that he’d apparently leaned/pitched forward out of the water. His hand was a sticky white mess. . . . So . . . it was supposed to be sticky? He kind of . . . didn’t feel anything those other times. And his was hot, which made sense, because he actually had body heat. Then the image of Ansem tasting his essence flashed through his mind. That . . . still seemed gross . . . maybe . . . but . . . Sora with white lips . . . Kairi with striped cheeks . . . Okay, fine, he’d try anything once.

Riku took another shaky step forward, left hand supporting his weight against the wall. Now he was fully out of the water, with no fear of having things washed away from him. He didn’t realize that masturbation could take such a toll on the body, so Riku knelt down, legs under him, because it would be really, really, really bad if he fell and then Mickey came in to check up on him and found him like this. With a trembling hand, Riku placed his fingers into his mouth.

Creamy.

Fruity--sharp citrus? Mostly the kinds he ate. Another lick.

Was there salt? Maybe a little tiny amount of salt, he wasn’t sure. But . . . this was starting to creep him out. Yeah, now would be a good time to wash his hand off.

The teen was suddenly hit by the powerful urge to devour all of his spilled seed, although why was a mystery. His very jaw ached, as if with hunger, and Riku was astonished to find that a very singular hunger--a craving--was stirring in his belly. This powerful urge, this will to continue, maybe it wasn’t a bad idea . . . but wait, wasn’t it also slightly gross, and not to mention creepy? Right, he should stop, besides, why did he want to be more like the wretched bastard sitting in his heart. . . . And yet, here was information--No! He would have nothing more to do with this. He would not adopt any kinds of habits that Ansem either had, or could lead him into habits that the Heartless Lord had.

But then darkness curled at the edges of his mind, and a deep chuckle swelled his heart as the pressure and fullness of nights past returned to him.

Ansem held him in the thrall of shadows.

‘How enlightening. . . . Let us continue pet.’ Riku was doubled over and the bastard was purring and trying to force him to take another taste.

‘No!’ Riku’s throat was tight and hot and he couldn’t make a sound. It was like the dark one was on top of him, pushing himself further in.

‘Come now, you’re learning first hand the meaning behind the phrase, “You are what you eat.” Isn’t that wonderful?’ He paused to nibble lightly on the teen’s mental shoulder and neck, having found his host’s daydream most informative. ‘On worlds with red meat, you’ll find that spermatozoa have a saltier composition, some even taste as Orange juice.’ The sadistic tutor had to adjust his ‘hold’, as Riku’s mental avatar kept on trying to wriggle out of his arms. ‘Then . . . there are . . the foooools--ha!--who refuse to take care of themselves--ah, ah, ah! Heel!--as I was saying . . . who refuse to eat a balanced diet and thus end up with a horrid bitter taste, among other things that you’ll never have to worry your silky little head about . . .’

The Heartless Lord pushed him down, and had him pinned in place. His left hand (But he wasn’t really there!) was over Riku’s left hand, attempting to twine their fingers together. Ansem held the right wrist with his shadows and was edging the appendage back to the teen’s mouth.

Ansem wasn’t there, he wasn’t real, Riku was just seeing things through his mind’s eye, but he was still in the shower. The shadows, the bastard’s darkness, Riku’s mind was interpreting the sneaking shades as Ansem’s body. Not fingers, tendrils of night, not arms, not a body, but masses of black, shadow puppets to operate in Ansem’s stead. Each holding him in place, restricting his possibilities, giving him no quarter.

The boy tried to scream again.

‘I would advise against that.’

‘Like hell! You don’t want Mickey to send you back!’

‘True, but do you really want him to view you in this state?’

‘It wouldn’t matter! He wouldn’t care! He knows what you’re doing to me! He’d be more shocked if I didn’t call him! And I’m not ashamed to call for his help!’ Not on this issue at any rate. . .

The dark scholar sighed, ‘Must I explain everything? View child, rather than see, entails beliefs and ideals. Yes he would rebuke me, but at what cost to you?’

‘Stop it! I don’t know what you’re getting at, but I’m not going to listen to your lies!’ Brains before pride. He’d learned that harsh lesson once and it did not bare repeating.

‘Do you want him to see you yoked by darkness and spent passion? Do you want him to remember this always? You, wretched and prostrate to darkness--my darkness? Enticed and excited, and stained with white joy? Do you not think that this would become the seed of new nightmares for him?’

‘I--’ He doubted, and his coated hand slipped closer--want clawing at him, ‘NO!’

‘Capricious pup, you were doing this on your own scant moments ago.’

‘For Myself! Not You!’

Chuckles, deep and dark, rippled over Riku’s soul, and in his mind Ansem bit at the back of his neck. Nibbling, sucking, giving now and then a sharp shallow thrust of his hips. The teen could resist the first two, but the third caught him off guard each time. That sinful pleasure, that dark wanting, it had to be the tyrant’s doing, confusing his mind into knots. Each thrust sent a bolt of passion ripping through him, and there were internal explosions that he could not place or control.

With such emotions and thoughts to distract his host, it took less than a minute to get the boy sucking and licking clean his right hand.

Riku howled and swore at him, mentally. The elder simply laughed and continued to tease his young pet. Evil and sexy and deadly and when Riku was done Ansem was nibbling on his ears.

‘Perfect pet, utterly perfect.’ His boy was so spent and so worn that he looked golden in the flowing water. ‘This’ is what fighting against him had brought the teen and Riku would do well to remember that in the future. But Ansem had what he needed, knowledge, information, data--things he could make use of in their next romp.

‘Until next time . . . ,’ and then he was asleep as suddenly as he’d awakened.

Riku lay on the floor of the tub, letting the hot-ish jets spray over his sprawled legs and lower body, soaking in the heat.

Fresh and salt water silently mixed in the swirling drain.

* * * * * *

He decided that he liked heat, being that it made him feel warm and comfy. But, unfortunately, he had a job to do that really wouldn’t get done without him, and there was a clock around somewhere that could tell him if he needed to get up, or if he could sink back into soft warmth. Roxas’ midnight-blues fluttered open, and he found that the hard surface his face had been pressed into was none other than Axel’s sternum, which he’d suspected from the bony feel.

The blond smirked. They’d had fun, and he figured that they would have fun again. Probably much later, after they were done the mission, after they’d gotten home. Scanning up he saw that the pyro was still out cold. Good, he could grab a shower in the meantime.

Number XIII carefully maneuvered himself out from between lean arms.

Doing his best impersonation of a sneaky Ninja (something he would never admit he was capable of doing to his ‘Samurai’) the blond made his way off the bed and into the bathroom. Roxas would have taken all of his things into the white room with him, but that risked making noise, and he instead banked on getting clean long before the redhead rolled out of bed.

But he still locked the door, just in case. He knew the idiot well enough to expect the toilet to be flushed at least once during his shower otherwise. Turning the handle/dial/knob/do-dad until the water temperature was to his liking, Roxas mused on who had gotten it into Ax’s head that randomly subjecting hypersensitive non-beings to jets of scalding liquid was a good way to kill time and boredom. The final list came down to Numbers IX, II, III, X, XII or VIII himself finding it amusing in his former life.

Hmmm . . . that was something he was going to have to corner his buddy about. Knowing Ax, he could probably use this sex stuff as a bargaining chip.

And Axel’s penis felt nice.

And he still needed to kill him on general principles.

Shaking his blond head the kid stepped into the tub . . . then realized he needed a scrub-cloth. Roxas hopped back out and started searching--hey, they were about to set Armageddon into motion, so what was a few wasted gallons of water while he looked? The Key-holder found what he was looking for on the drying rack by the door, framed by larger towels. Armed with these implements, the boy recommenced with his washing.

The young Nobody tended to switch to autopilot when showering, unless he found himself playing with foam and bubbles. This left his mind free to wonder over the more troubling and complex aspects of his unlife. Like memories, and the fact that he and Naminé had none predating his (their) creation, but the other members did.

Why?

What was different about himself and Naminé? Was there something extra about them, or something less? You had to have been someone exceedingly special in order to leave a Nobody behind.

What if some of them were once gods? Or great heroes? Epic villains? Rulers of destroyed worlds? Chosen priests or priestesses? The founders of empires? Religions? What if their histories spanned more than one world?! They couldn’t have been undiscovered people, hidden in the masses that populated their homes, right? To leave a Nobody behind . . . they had to have all been someone important! Even if they weren’t known at large, throughout their world, they had to have been well loved by those who interacted with them. Maybe even a little indirect infamy via interlocking social circles. They had to have been people possessed by an inner shine and glow that could never have been hidden from the worlds.

Right?

Did the person he was before use a Keyblade too?

Did all of them have some connection? Did they all control their respective elements back in the day?

No, Xemnas walked the path of nothingness which no mortal could tread. As far as Roxas knew there were no gods of the void, which left Nobodies the sole practitioners of nonexistence. Only they could survive the strain.

But, surely, only a god could wield space, or time for that matter. Honestly, what deities would let mortals play with such powerful toys of fate? Or the ability to bend reality to one’s whims . . . not that Naminé had any whims of her own, but if she had thought of any . . .

Xaldin had his wind, Vexen commanded ice, Lexaeus played with earth as a child would play with a toy, and all of that was standard fare for magic users and heroes. Zexion delved into the art of illusions, though fighting with, and otherwise mastering, paper was an extraordinary feat in and of itself. In a way, that made him the most defensive and support oriented member of the organization. Roxas could easily see the bluenet’s Somebody as a hero behind the scenes, lurking in the shadows with a good book on hand to kill time.

And assassins.

Speaking of which, plants were more of a girlie power anyway. Well, make that ‘mother goddess’ power. Unless . . . could one’s past self be of a different gender?! Okay, too confusing, ‘Not gonna go there,’ setting that aside for another day when he could ask the Superior about things.

Okay, um, yeah, thunder-y lightning, water, and fire, the big three of magical offensive spells. Although, one could argue that there were actually two sets of three, the other group being wind, ice, and fire, but he was just trying to find a logical pattern here. Again standard elements that weren’t ridiculous to come by, right?

And then there was Saïx. What the hell did you call his abilities? Berserking? Lunar mood-swings? Might as well say that he was a werewolf stuck in human form . . . . . . .

That made waaay too much sense and explained far too many things.

Roxas wondered if he’d gotten lost from Halloween Town or if he was from some other anthropomorphically endowed world. Maybe Saïx really had been cursed, but then even becoming a Nobody couldn’t cure lycanthropy if that was true, which raised several mind-boggle-ing issues. And wasn’t berserking related to one’s emotions anyway? Or did he just overload his psyche and short-circuit his logic center?

“Make way!”--And he suddenly had company.

“Ax?! What the-” he glanced over his shoulder, “I locked the door!!!”

“Yeah,” and he held up a chakram, “I melted the lock. Pass the soap?” Axel waved the weapon out of existence.

“You . . .” The flaxen youth numbly complied, “explain.” Because depending on the redhead’s answer he’d have to give up on dead bolts for his doors.

Axel shrugged, continuing to work up a sizable lather between his un-gloved fingers. “What’s to tell? Door was locked, so I superheated one of my chaka-points [1], then jammed it into the handle. Gutted the knob, to get all those hard to pick mechanisms.”

“You could have knocked!”

“If you locked it, you ‘prolly wouldn’t have opened it. And this way was faster, and less smell!” As if to prove his point, the psycho took in a deep breath of air.

Roxas did have to admit that he’d neither heard nor smelled anything. Wait, heard . . . Axel had a loud nature. Axel should have had a loud reaction to the door being locked . . .

“You seriously just rolled out of bed and just burned the door rather than knocking? You were that together?” The two of them, and Demyx, were not known as early risers . . . or easy risers . . . actually they were better known for sleeping than waki--

“ACK!!!!” Hands! Testicles! “WhatTheFuck!?”

“Ya zoned.” Then he lightly kissed his little mate. “Scrubbed your back yet?” Number VIII continued the fondling of his partner, even as the flustered boy continued to stare up into his grinning face. This of course forced the child out of his sideways stance and backed him under the shower head.

“Nah, haa, ah, ahh, ssa--Ahhhmmmmm, s-staa-A-a-aaaaa, hhnnnnnnn, na-ah, st-t-ah-p, sto-op, stop . . .” Okay, yeah, breathing, “woo.”

“Mmmm? Too hot to handle? Oof!” Elbow bone should not connect to rib bones.

“Dope. I’m still new to . . . ‘touching’.” Not that it was bad, just that he was still--Axel’s hand was still there, wasn’t it?

“Theeen . . . what if I go . . . slower?” And the elder started to stroke over the sleeping length of flesh in his hand.

“Mmmmm, mm, . . . that’s . . . not . . . bad.” Warm water, warm Axel, life was good.

Roxas gave something that was a halfway cross between a moan and a groan, resting his shoulders against the wall. Axel happily continued his ministrations, finding that his form was responding in kind to the idea of a quickie under the streaming jets. Well, maybe just mindless foreplay, they still had to go shopping, which would involve walking. Unless he just decided to carry blondie everywhere and have the Dusks and crew do all the---Oh hell yeah was that a plan!

Axel pounced.

Roxas squeaked. Then he kicked the idiot for pinching his ass without warning.

“AAAHHH!!”

“Holy Crap! What Did I Just Say About Touching?!”

“But my knee?! Oh cripes, can’t stand. Goin’ down . . .”

“Serves you right! No randomly jumping me like that for like, like, like maybe a month or something! Ya know, after I’m used to the idea of being randomly fucked into the nearest flat surface by you. A-and ya know, making out, attacking me, I don’t think they’re supposed to look alike from my p-o-v, okay?” Breathing in, breathing out. Breathing in, breathing out.

“Yeah yeah, sure sure.” He looked up imploringly with emerald eyes. “But why are you so jittery? You do like want I do, right?”

“I do, I really do, it’s, just . . . ::sigh::” Roxas sank down into the bottom of the tub, scooting in between long legs. He too started massaging the knee that he’d abused. “Ax, you in’ [2] me, we’re trained professional killers of mass carnage, right?”

“If by that you mean ‘kill-bots’, then, yeah. So?”

“Okay . . . what happens when a ‘kill-bot’ feels ambushed?”

“Well it un-ambushes itsel-- . . . oh.”

“Yeah, reflexes. You gonna be okay?”

“Took worse to kill me.”

“I’d hope so! . . . Tell me . . . someday?”

“Mmm?”

“About your life . . . as a Somebody.” His blue eyes were down, staring at the place his hands worked.

Axel smiled, a little sadly, but a smile still. “Yeah, I can do that. But first,” and he slowly slithered his hands over the slender rump, “hot, rabid, animal-sex?”

“What? But our mission! Hearts, remember? We’re collecting hearts? For the moon?”

“Tell that to my sex-drive. I swear it’s going nonstop to pup-town.” Stupid base programing; although that did give him a handy excuse to bang Roxas every spare waking moment.

. . . Oh dear Loki, he was sounding as bad as Dem, wasn’t he?

“Do I even want to know what you mean by that?” Maybe Axel was playing on the meaning of ‘drive’ as agency, and ‘drive’ as in steering a motorized transport unit.

Axel grinned.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.” But the little one pouted anyway.

“You do remember that ‘Pouty-Roxas’ equals ‘Nibble-Worthy-Roxas’ in my book, right?” Mmmmm, blond . . .

“I do now.” Roxas continued, puffing his cheeks slightly. “But I’m getting the feeling that I’m not gonna get clean at this rate. And that we won’t be able to do much shopping.”

“Phhfff, we’ll get dirty, then we’ll get clean again. And the sooner we make with the rabid sex, the sooner we make with the clean, which leads to getting out and that leads to breakfast, and then we go harvesting and shopping. Besides it’s like . . . well the sun’s up, and we’re up, so it has to be after early morning, probably closer to mid or late morning . . . point is about half a day has gone by since I sent a squad out to lay the ground work for us. They’ve probably converted at least half the world by now. At least!”

Roxas thought about that for a moment. He shrugged and moved closer to the redhead’s lap, slinging his arms around the tall one’s collarbone. “Then why don’t I hear the masses screaming?”

Number VIII grinned again. “We’re high up?”

“Uh . . . no. Sound travels.” He snuggled closer to the inviting heat.

“They converted everyone?” . . . Which meant he could get a head start on the sex-o-thon.

“You’re not that lucky.”

“Horrible unforeseen complications involving random heroes and weapons that can somehow fight off the Heartless and/or Nobodies?”

Number XIII blinked several times in rapid succession. “I don’t think our luck is that bad . . . maybe.”

“Then it’s nothing a few hours of passion will make worse. Now gimmie that tushy!” And with this Axel pulled the blond boy to him.

Roxas submitted, though it was anything but quiet. And he refused to forget about either the mission or the few things that the elder redhead had mentioned the night before, like cum being an unpleasant thing to pass. However, in the end, Number XIII was able to experience sex in the upright, though Axel was still cautious about his fragility and again took him from behind. After that, as promised, the pyro allowed both of them to clean up, which led to them getting food. Sadly, there was no room service in the hotel, which partially explained it’s low star status. So they were forced to ask for directions to the nearest eatery. (They had decided to wait until after they got food to start turning people into Heartless and Nobodies, just on the off-chance they could accidentally convert the chef responsible for their breakfast.)

So it was, like any class act, when it came time to pay the bill, Axel walked with Roxas up to the register, paid, and then distracted the cashier before she could close the drawer by ripping out her heart. Roxas, in anticipation of the screaming panic, simultaneously summoned the six platoons of Samurai that he had waiting on standby in The In-Between to block the doors of the little coffee house. The place had three points of entry, front, back and roof, that the Nobodies divided themselves between. Axel snapped his fingers twice, and was answered by as many squads of Assassins, five to each. These the redhead had going around creating more Emblem Heartless (as all the Nobodies would wake up in Twilight Town, before heading to either HQ or The In-Between, and Odin knew where next) from the workers and patrons. He and Roxas just concentrated on picking up the loose munny.

The only ones who made it past the lesser Nobodies at the doors were those on--or created for--the mission. By the time Numbers VIII and XIII had stepped outside the street was in chaos from the rampages of the neophyte Heartless. Windows were smashed, mailboxes, trash-cans, and like objects were overturned. Some humans ran by screaming, though if they strayed too close to the duo they found themselves relived of all mortal worries.

One particularly unfortunate soul realized that they were un-perturbed by the mayhem, and walked through the roiling black madness unscathed. She pulled her companion with her into their dooming wake.

“You have to--”

What happened next was all one fluid movement, a self-contained dance that ended before it was even acknowledged. Axel caught the raven-hair beauty as she flung herself at him, then he neatly broke the pairing’s handhold. The stunned brunet staggered back from his companion, and into Roxas’ two Keyblades, which the blond held teeth/blades up, puncturing the poor boy’s heart with both. The fiery Nobody simultaneously hooked his arm around the black beauty’s waist, lifting and spinning her and himself on the spot. When he stopped, the momentum cause the girl to lean her upper body back in a dip, and at that moment Axel reached into her chest with his free hand. Roxas opened his arms as wide as they would go, basically ‘cutting’ out from the nameless male’s heart, under each arm, causing his body to fade into a NeoShadow that hissed and sulked away into the darkness. Just as with the two from last night, and the girl working the cash drawer, the femmy thing Axel turned fell to the ground a baby Shadow that blinked up at him, and wiggled away into the chaos.

Roxas was staring after the shining thing that gently floated out and up from the man. A perfect heart, purified by his twin blades. Suddenly something much dimmer wrapped up inside a gloved hand was waved under his nose.

“Gottcha something.” Then a quick peck to his cheek.

Number XIII smiled slightly. “Give it here.” Roxas touched the tip of Oathkeeper to the glowing crystal, banishing the impurities from it. Next came Oblivion, tempering it with the necessary energy to propel it to the artificial Kingdom Hearts (not that he was aware of the existence of any other Kingdom Hearts, or that the heart would want to go back to the door of light inside utter darkness had it the choice to do so). Once charged and shining brightly, Axel released the mass, letting it drift away with it’s fellows.

Something prickled at the back of Roxas’ mind. “A lesser Nobody steals a heart, and each time makes an Emblem Heartless. Those hearts are safe, and no matter who defeats them, those hearts return to the moon. . . . Pure-Blooded Heartless make more Pure-Bloods, and then only a Keyblade can guarantee the salvaging of those hearts, and only before a certain amount of time has passed. If they evolve past Shadow, then it’s almost hopeless. Emblem Heartless make more Emblems, same as a lesser Nobody. But if we . . . actually no, I use my blades, so I save the heart each time. But if anyone else steals a heart, it’s a fifty-fifty shot if the heart gets saved, because it’s almost always a Pure-Blood that’s created.”

“Unless the top six are ‘experimenting’ again. Then they can make Emblems out the yin.”

“O . . . kay. Point is, why does everyone else’s weapons only have a one in two chance of saving the heart after the Heartless is destroyed?”

Axel said nothing. He had his theories, unfounded as they were, but no hard evidence. Instead he pulled the small boy into a one armed embrace. “No idea. Xemmy doesn’t tell us ‘underlings’ shit. But hey! We could go raid his private office when we get back. . . . Find his little black notebook, read his diary, go through his files, steal from his cookie jar. He’s bound to have written the answer down somewhere . . . if he even found the answer. . .”

The young Nobody pursed his lips. “He has more questions than answers, doesn’t he?”

“Yep,” the lanky one nodded, “that’s our ‘King’. Always the scientist, never the bride.”

“. . . What?”

“Hmm?”

“ . . . Never mind.”

/Roxas-dono?/ [3]

Number XIII turned to face the Samurai that had addressed him. “Yes?”

/Are we not here to secure supplies for the Organization?/

The blond nodded. “We are. Grab the nearest handful of Heartless, and any Pure-Bloods you come across. We’ll head to the nearest grocery store. Usual drill from there, take all the munny and food we can get before the world collapses in on itself.”

The Nobody bowed. /As you command Roxas-dono./ Then he was standing straight again, and marshaling the other Samurai away.

Axel’s Assassins looked on, then back to their master, waiting for his outrageous directions--because Axel always gave outrageous directions.

“I want squad one to go help. The other half of you are staying by us, because we’er hitting up a few extra shops today. If things start decaying too fast, we may even have to ‘port out some of the Heartless to home, or just destroy them outright. Alright people, lock and load!”

The groups were off and running against the clock. Not a block away was the first shopping mart of the day. They had it picked clean of goods and cash in under an hour. The Heartless had yet to attack the heart of the world, and the Organization members had sent back half of the Emblems, and all of the Pure-Bloods helping them with the supplies--with a Samurai escort of course. Then they were out and off to the next shop--which happened to house healing potions and other like items. Again Axel and Roxas pocketed the munny as more Heartless and Samurai were sent home with the goods. That store was gutted in under thirty minuets. Another smaller mom-and-pop food stall was emptied of it’s whole ‘organic’ merchandise in under ten minutes, and they had all the munny in another five.

Back on the street they found several shiny new Dusks accompanied by three times as many older Dusks. The former were obviously remnants of this world that had led the latter here.

“Alright,” Axel reasoned, “you’re with us people, unless we have to send more Heartless back. Then you’ll be sent around to pick up their slack, or keep them from eating out the world-heart.”

The new types edged closer to Roxas, hovering by him as the deadly twosome led the way.

“Hey,” the blond nudged one of the ones clinging to his side, “do you remember where all the food stores in this world are?”

The creature was still in shock of it’s own existence and simultaneous lack there of. It was slow to speak, and sounded unsure of itself, all of it’s squeals articulated in a monotone. / . . . Did you get the ‘High-Mart’?/

“The store with the big ‘H’ on it? Yeah.”

/‘Grimm & Gram’s Grains’?/

“The organic food stall, right?”

/ . . . There’s only the Jumbo-Palace left, at the other end of the world. But it’s more of a mall . . ./

“Good, we’ll look out for it. How many item shops in this world?”

/ . . . Two . . One called ‘Sapphire’ and one called ‘Ice’ . . They used to be the same company, a joint venture between friends. Then they started fighting . . . /

“Okay, I think we already ransacked ‘Ice’, so that leaves ‘Sapphire’. After that and Jumbo-Palace we can give up on this world.”

“Hey-hey! Not so fast Roxy, remember? Hey kid,” the redhead turned to address the Dusk riding on Number XIII’s shoulder. “Got any novelty sex-shops on this world?”

The teen groaned.

/One. ‘Fox’s Coop.’/

Roxas blinked. “Axelllll . . . What’s the joke?”

/Fox gets into the chicken-coop, eats all the birds./

“Damn. Better than I would have guessed. Works both ways!” He clapped his hands together joyously.

“Both ways?” Had to be the others, had to them and not him being crazy.

“Could be a foxy guy who eats out the girls, or a foxy lady who sucks off the guys; maybe woman on woman, or guy on guy. Anyway, let’s go!” The elder caught the wrist of his blond companion and made ready to run.

“Wait, no--Items! Food! Munny!--”

“Send more of the Nobodies in with even more of the Heartless to the other two places, which’ll buy us more ransacking time. To ‘Fox’s Coop’!” And he took a flighty step.

The ‘Key of Destiny’ had no choice but to be pulled along. The Dusk on his shoulder wrapped one arm around his neck, and held on for dear unlife.

/Why . . . Why did you make us?/ There was the ghostly echo of a feminine waver to the ‘voice’.

Number XIII inhaled deeply, trying to keep his breathing even for the run. “Nobodies . . . don’t make . . . other Nobodies . . . on purpose. . . . We make . . . Heartless . . . and sometimes . . . get Nobodies . . . too. [4]”

Even though Dusks lacked eyes, they were still highly expressive creatures, if one knew where to look. The zippered edges of it’s mouth drooped, and it tilted it’s head forward so that it’s ‘mark’ was more prominent. This was analogous to both casing it’s gaze downward, and trying to hide itself.

/So . . . I shouldn’t be./

The blond reverted to Nobody speech, as it was less taxing on his airway. /None of us should./

“How far are we?” Axel didn’t like how this conversation was going, not that he could change the direction of it, but he would derail it for as long as possible.

/Uh!/ The Dusk swiveled it’s head like an owl, searching for landmarks and street names. /Keep straight for . . . . another three blocks. Then over--left one . . . look for an orange-brown awning, like fox fur.--/

“Right! And Jumbo-Palace?”

This time one of the Dusks slithering alongside them spoke up. /I know where! I know where!/

“O.K.! Rox, get some of your men following the squirt--”

/Hey!/

“And who knows where ‘Sapphire’ is--”

They passed a fairly new shop with a glowing blue roof, emblazoned with electric gold letters that spelled out the gem namesake.

Axel skidded to a halt. Roxas skidded into Axel. Everyone else just skidded around them.

The redhead whistled to attract the attention of the nearest Heartless and teleported in the rest of his waiting Assassins. “Alright, everyone into the pool!” He pointed directly at the establishment. “I want that place gutted of E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G, everything that the Org. can use! All Potions, Ethers, Elixirs, Armors, Weapons, Munny, Accessories--Hell, grab up the ammo and guns for Xig-Zug to laugh at!”

Without a squeal from the ranks the lesser Nobodies were off, bodily steering the Heartless into the store.

Axel sighed. “I wish Heartless had at least base reasoning skills. Can’t leave them to themselves for a moment. ‘Seeker was the only one among them with a brain. . .”

Roxas turned to him, noting that both the Dusks which had spoken up remained with them. “They have hive mentality, right? They just recognize Heartless and not-Heartless--at least the Pure-Bloods. It’s the Emblems that we can control indefinitely, right?”

“A bit,” the pyro nodded, “we think, they don’t. We can make decisions, they just follow instinct. And like any good pack-animals, they follow strength, and the Emblems bend like grass in the wind to a strong will. The Pure ones always go rouge.” Almost made him wonder how they acted around their Lord . . . “Hey Rox, where’re yer people?”

The young one closed his eyes, sensing out his troops. None of the ones he’d sent off had returned, but there were fresh reserves waiting in The In-Between. “They’re in transit, waiting for my word.”

Unbeknownst to the Organization members, the little Dusks were looking up.

“Good, call them in and send them off with the little guy.”

/It’s getting dark . . . / The one on Roxas’ shoulder titled it’s head to the side, as if contemplating the ramification of it’s words.

Axel swore. Loudly.

“We don’t have a lot of time then,” the blond said, “so maybe we’ll just have to forget about the last store.” He called in all the Samurai in waiting anyway, and gave them the instructions to follow the little Dusk on the ground wherever it went. All nodded and teleported away.

“We can still make it,” the pyro-path grinned, “we’ll follow that little one and destroy any of the Heartless in our way. Come on!” And he started off again, as per the directions already given.

“Idiot!” Roxas started after him, “They’ve already gotten to the heart of the world! We’d have to go there . . . to fight . . . them! . . . Or it won’t . . . make a . . . difference!” The Emblems must have gotten distracted by something, like a Pure-Blood.

“Hey kid! Which way?!”

“AXEL!!!”

/Still straight a block and a half, then over one more. Left at not this . . . the next corner./

“AX! We don’t . . . have time! . . . We should go . . . help the people . . . at Jumbo-Palace! . . . Get everything . . . out of here . . . while we can!”

The redhead took his friend’s hand in his own. “Roxy,” he took the turn hard, and broke several basic laws of physics when he didn’t fall over AND swung Roxas around the corner without breaking their wrists. “Where I come from, we make time.” He didn’t let go of the blond, just continued to pelt down the street.

But Roxas began to see something wrong with this picture, and it explained why the world was dying: there were no Heartless about. They must have missed a Pure-Blood, the NeoShadow he’d made had gone back to The World That Never Was, so that left the baby Shadows Axel had made . . . damn it, that’s right! Even though they’d had an Assassin escort to keep them in line, there were those baby Shadows Ax had made last night! They’d probably gone rouge, or if not, converted some humans or animals behind the Assassins’ backs! Damnit! Then there was potentially a whole slew of Pure-Bloods that had gone out of their control! And they couldn’t make the Emblems fight against the Pure-Bloods, they followed Pure-Bloods unquestionably without another outside influence readily available. All they could do was keep the Emblems they made from going after the world heart by prioritizing the conversion of all the life on this world.

. . . If there was anything left to convert.

“We’re here!” The pyromancer chimed happily.

The light wielder looked up in time to see them slowing.

As promised there was the store in all it’s fox-colored glory.

“Do we have to? I mean, we can’t even call for help to move stuff.” Roxas had no desire to enter the store.

“Yep, gotta do it. And that’s not true, we can whistle up some help.”

“No Axel, look around. All the Heartless have gone to attack the heart of this world. And all of our troops are running around different stores.”

“Hey kid,” he turned green eyes onto the Dusk hanging on the Number XIII, “think you can go back home and round up some more Dusks and the likes for us? Any Nobodies you can bring will help.”

/Oh . . . ‘kay./ It dropped down to the ground.

“Hey,” Roxas tapped it’s shoulder, “that question you asked me, you’ll get the full story soon enough from everyone. If not, they can tell you how to find me.”

The little Dusk dipped in a shallow bow, then slipped off into shadow.

Axel shook his head. “Come on. We’re burning daylight.” He brought his friend back into a one armed embrace, and steered him into the sex-shop.

The inside was alien and dark, though they could still make out the edges of things. Roxas pointed Oathkeeper to the ceiling, and sent forth a sphere of light to illuminate the surroundings [5]. In the blond’s opinion the light didn’t make any more sense out of the place. There were strange . . . ‘things’ on the walls, in varying shades of neon rainbows. And where there wasn’t vibrant color, there was the deepest black, laced here and there with the same furry orange-brown carpeting. There was ‘merchandise’ on the walls, in shelved cases, atop little islands, and a few books were on spinning racks.

Number VIII smiled, opening his eyes. “I sent word to my people to aim the back up to here, after clearing out the other stores.--”

“I’m not telling my Samurai to come here.” Roxas eyed a particularly lewd box with disdain.

“Wouldn’t expect them. Now, stay by me,” he squeezed the little shoulder in his hand, “we ain’t taking everything here with us. Like those,” he waved his hand in the vague direction of boxes, “masturbation toys are for girls. And those over there are--O.K., they’re for guys, but masturbation’s pretty pointless for us, unless we have an audience, which is why those glorified sweat-socks don’t make the cut.” As he spoke, Axel slowly hauled Roxas--who was digging his heels into the carpeting--further inside the store. “Might want to grab a book or three though, help Mansex spice up his nights. Might even make him less of a dick . . .”

“You reeeeeally don’t need my help here--”

“You must learn sometime, young grasshopper. And yer an extra set of hands for the lifting.” He nudged his companion a little closer to a case twice the blond’s height.

“Then why don’t I get the munny?!” He didn’t want to look at this stuff!

Axel suddenly stopped pushing, tugging, and otherwise moving. “You really uncomfortable here?”

“Yes!!!” So good of the castle idiot to notice. What, was it his adamant refusal to have anything to do with this? His constant redirecting of--

Axel was forcing him to look him in the eyes. Ah, now Roxas was confused again. And Number VIII had a strange unreadable look in his eyes.

“Is there something in my eyes?” His words came out softer than he’d intended.

“Hmph.” He smirked. “Nothing at all,” but his emerald eyes still had an odd gleam to them. He laid a kiss to peachy lips, gentle and soothing. When he pulled back, the unfamiliar light was mostly gone. “Go clean out the register then, I think the cavalry’s about to drop in.”

There was the sound of air being swirled through a vortex, and several pops and thuds as more of the lesser Nobodies joined their cause.

“Speak of the devils.” He released Roxas’ jaw and stood erect again. “O.K., I need at least two people helping Rox with the cash-boxes.”

A familiar Dusk waddled over, and hooked itself back onto the blond’s shoulder. ‘So it’s connection to it’s past self is still that strong . . .’ “Hey,” Roxas caught the attention of his new helper, as an Assassin came to his other side, “did you use a sword when you were human?” He headed to the back of the store.

/I’m a pacifist . . . or . . . I didn’t fight if I could get around it./

The Assassin looked over at her--for it was obvious that this one was in the process of evolution, and thus would regain it’s gender. /Did you ever take the option of death off the table? Even if killing was a last resort./

/No./ The Dusk picked up her head and scanned the area again.

/Then you were a realist. Pacifists die before they fight, realists know what it means to have something worth protecting. Us,/ here the Nobody gestured to himself and then waved at his fellows, /do it to survive, or just for shits and giggles./

/ . . . Creepy./ She shivered. /I think what you want is back there, by the stairs./

As they cleared out the store of it’s currency, Number XIII received several mental reports of what his people were doing. The raiding party had arrived and found out that it was too much for them alone, so they’d sent the Dusk back to gather help from every quarter (save creepers, whose sole purpose was to defend their home). Apparently all of the (off-call) lesser Nobodies were curious about the raid that was happening on this world. So when the little Dusk came back, he was accompanied by almost every Sorcerer, dozens of Dancers, multiple Snipers, Dragoons, Gamblers, all the remaining Samurai, and a handful of Berserkers to smash down the more resistant doors. They estimated less than twenty minutes would be needed to clear out everything of value from the place.

Meanwhile Axel was still directing his forces into a semi-coherent raiding party. “O.K. I want at least five--any five of you guys outside playing lookout. One on each side, one on the roof, or higher. This world is dying, and while we won’t go down with it, it’s a bitch to navi the darkness. Chop-Chop!” Five little Nobodies started to run off. “Give Us A Shout If The Black Wall Comith!” The ‘black wall’ being the wave of darkness that sprung up in the death-throes of a world as it collapsed and consumed itself. “Now the rest of us, ignore all solo toys, and anything for girls--except costumes large enough to fit Mansex and his bitch--”

/Cur--/

“Still a dog. Male costumes are lowest priority. Highest goes to lubes, all kinds, and condoms, all kindsa’ ‘big and tall’ sizes. Otherwise, look for toys that take two to play with them, and I think any of the raunchier books will be appreciated. Oh, color means nothing. Flavors are God-on-a-stick-with-cheese. Say good?”

/On it!/

/Will do!/

Then the teams were off and running.

/Size ‘black’?!/ One Dusk pondered an assortment of condoms. /Is that the same as ‘Magnum’?/

An Assassin gathering up some strawberry lube shot his head up above the racks. /What world you from?/

/Ja-rai./ It went back to looking at what should have been the largest sizes of latex contraceptives.

/Heh,/ the Assassin went back to gathering, /’tsa joke about black men having huge cocks./

“Which means means Xemmy will be enjoying them along with dog-boy. And yours truly a course! How they packaged?” Axel plucked up another book before stuffing it into a random ‘pocket-portal’.

/Singles, mostly./ The Nobody started to grab them up.

/Gotta have cartons somewhere./ Another one offered. /Look under the displays, or behind them./

/Yo Boss-Man?!/ Still another Assassin neatly contorted it’s sinuous body into a perfect spiral, resembling a corkscrew. /Vibrators get any higher priority?/

“They dildos? Or the like?”

/Yep./

“Hell yeah! Hey, see if they got ball-gags and stuff over there. Make sure it’s perforated. And rings, I wanna test shit.”

/You mean use it like a rubber band and see how high The Superior's eyebrow goes up./

“Same difference. Search man!”

/I’m full! I’ll send help back sire!/ And with a short slither dance, the Dusk teleported out with several cartons of oversized condoms.

“Sweet. Keep up the pace folks!” Another book disappeared from between his fingers.

/Are sailor-suits alright?/ One Dusk at the back of the store held up it’s head.

“We talking ‘Navy’ or ‘Schoolgirl’?” Number VIII edged over to the leather aisle.

/ . . . I see a skirt--/

“Pink?”

/Yes--/

“Size?”

/Adult?/

“Yes! Take that to Saïx personally! With this collar, this whip, and these leather restraints--Oh shit, HANDCUFFS! Padded! Pink-Leopard-Print!! These too!! And after you drop them off: Run. Like. Fuck.” With the announcement of every item, the suicidal male opened a ‘hopper’ dark portal that he dropped the articles into, that upon exiting found themselves in the Dusk’s waiting arms. “Rush those home, and tag a guy to come back here.”

/Got it./ And it was gone.

“Hey, cocoa-butter . . .” And Axel followed his nose to the more scent oriented part of the store, finding an Assassin already there with two Dusks. The redhead made short work of the area, piling various objects into the troops’ outstretched clutches. In the end they left with a hoard of scented candles, fruit toppings, edible lingerie, edible body paint, body oils, and the aforementioned cocoa-butter.

“Ax,” Roxas wandered over to his friend, having cleared out the establishment of all it’s munny, “my Samurai are wondering about me.”

“Then tell them to come in.” He stuffed a full complement of white, pink, red, and black frilly things into a ‘pocket’ without looking up.

“You forget what I said before?” The Dusk from earlier was still riding on his shoulder, and Roxas absentmindedly rubbed the back of her head/neck area. Just then the light above their heads flickered, so he repeated the light-ball attack from before. However, that only made things marginally better.

“Shit.” Axel mentally tapped the conscienceness of the lookouts. “We’re running out of time. Send them home then, and tell them to send back more non-Samurais. Tell them we’re doing shit they’re too good for if you have to.” The lookouts forwarded the data to him. No ‘black wall’, just the gathering of clouds.

“Look, Ax, we have enough--”

“Are there still large and x-tra large condoms here?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there still leather here?”

“Yeah.”

The redhead picked up an item and held it under his friend’s nose. “Do you think you’d enjoy this?”

“Umm . . .”

/It’s a hand-held vibrating massager. You can have him use it on you back, the soles of your feet, any place on the outside that hurts./

“The outside?”

“Because there’s internal like vibrators too. So, what do you think?” He gave the blue gray tripod thingy a jiggle.

“I’ll try it. Once.”

“Kool. Now, either send your boys in here, or home for back up. Please?” Axel was already writing off over half of the remaining merchandise. Most of the rings here had add-ons for girls to get a kick out of anyway. Guess he’d just have to hit up another store on the next mission. But he’d be damned if he left a choice condom or any lube behind.

“Fine,” the blond huffed, mentally dismissing his Samurai with the orders to send back other Nobodies who didn’t mind doing something degrading, stupid, and all around Axel-ish.

Naturally, all the Assassins with nothing better to do showed up. (However, at least one representative of Numbers X, IX, III, II, and I showed up with them. The Sorcerer was there to find out why Axel had yet to evacuate the world or start destroying some of the Heartless on the verge of eating said world. Zie [6] suffered a minor conniption fit, unnoticed by any of the other Nobodies who were busily laughing and looting, after which zie regained control of zerself, sighed, then floated over to the leather and bondage toy sets to present to zer master. Zie did, however, pick up a nice black collar, and simple black leather ‘three snap’ ring for zer master to give to his pet.)

Axel grinned hard enough to split his face. Now that Xig, Xal, and Dem would get word, they’d probably send over a crazy amount of help.

Sadly, the madness had to end after only fifteen short minutes; the lookouts saw the black wall rising. The lesser Nobodies topped off their loads.

“Everyone! Home! Now!” They obeyed. “Axel!” Roxas turned to see the one in question pitch a cock-ring with ball harness of black color at the retreating Sorcerer. “AX!” The pyro grabbed a boxed egg-vibrator with his mouth (his hands being suddenly full), turned to face the blond, then gave him a thumbs up. Number XIII sighed, grabbed the taller one’s elbow, and opened a Dark Portal aimed for ‘home’. [7]

* * * * * *

Some unspoken time later, Riku pulled himself up and finished his shower. He’d brought his clothes in, so he dressed promptly after drying off. He didn’t look in the mirror for fear of seeing yellow staring back at him. He dried his silver hair with the contraption from yesterday, and set himself in order.

Nothing out of place on the outside.

The teen stepped out of the bathroom and into the subdued presence of his friend. Mickey was reading the paper, and thinking deeply about one matter or another. Probably bending his will to focus on the problem of Ansem. Riku flicked his eyes over to the clock and saw that it was about eleven. Breakfast was probably in order, right?

He wanted to fight Heartless. Lots and lots of Heartless. He wanted to swing his SoulEater until his arms were sore. Mickey had said that the Heartless were attacking a few of the neighboring worlds, so after food he would try to convince the sovereign to intervene.

“Oh, hello Riku. I didn’t hear you step out. What do you feel like doing today?” If the nights were wretched, he’d make the days better. The Heartless Lord would not win.

“Right now, fruit salad sounds good. Or leftovers.” The human walked over and sat himself down at the table by the other.

“That’s a good start. Anything after that?”

“Heartless hunting.”

“Riku--”

“He . . . He made me feel awful and low. I . . . I want to hurt him back. I can’t do that right now, not with the way things are in my dreams. If I want to change anything, I have to practice, sharpen my skills, especially my ability to manipulate light. That’s the only thing that can drive him back, weaken him. He’s still afraid of it, or he wouldn’t have done things to keep me from using it. My darkness may counter him, but it’s not doing too much more than slowing him down.” He turned his wistful turquoise gaze out the window.

“Riku . . .” Mickey remembered their one attempt to practice sword fighting together. It hadn’t gone too well, for The King had nothing new to teach the boy, and their styles were as different as, appropriately enough, night and day. What was viewed as a stance full of openings by one, was known to the other as the setup for a feint. It was similar to an untrained novice fighting a master fencer, but neither of them could agree on who held which role.

But still, this week was supposed to be for rest and recuperation! Riku would wear himself out if Mickey didn’t schedule these little vacations now and then. And what kind of friend or guardian would he be if he didn’t look after the boy?

And yet . . . that shadow’s presence couldn’t be ignored. Wanting to hurt his attacker was natural, as was the frustration of being unable to fight back. Training was a good idea in that regard, but he’d have to keep Riku thinking positively, have to keep an eye on him lest he spiral down into deep depression. And, truthfully, the Heartless invasions had grown more sporadic without their leader around to guide them. So yes, maybe going to investigate the nearby worlds wouldn’t be too bad.

“Alright.” The mouse smiled, “Let’s finish off our leftovers, then we can go world-hopping.”

“You’re the best Mickey!” Yes, several precious hours to not think about Ansem in.

“But Riku, whatever happens, we’re coming back here in twenty-four hours. Alright?”

“Okay.”

The teen dug out what was left of his ‘Chicken with Apricot Stuffing’ [8] and The King’s ‘Cheddar Beef and Noodle Casserole’ [9]. They didn’t rush through the meal, but then Riku didn’t exactly drag his feet either. Mickey insisted that they stay long enough to let breakfast digest, because it would have been pointless to go out fighting only to cramp up at a critical moment. So while Riku occupied himself with the world news, The King honed in on the worlds that were in distress.

Apparently a third world had come under attack as they slept, but was still perfectly fine. Since it was the last to be invaded, that would be the world to finish up with. That left the two he’d sensed yesterday, both easy enough to reach by the ‘key ways’ as neither seemed to have any outlaying Heartless blocking them off. [10] And according to his mental star-grid, they were equidistant from Galdrial. It would have been a coin toss between them, if not for the new world, which was easier to reach from its NorthEast gate than its NorthWest gate.

Once ready, the pair picked up their key cards (in case they returned outside their room), tidied up a little, got into the ambiguous black travel robes DiZ had provided them, and were off using Mickey’s magick. [10]

They arrived first on the quiet world of Numariz, known more for it’s export of dairy than stout hearts. It was a rural world, and so the populace was widely spread out. Neighbors could have been separated by one or more play islands (at least that’s what Riku swore later on).

The Heartless presented meager resistance, at best, and the teen fought with a vengeance. They were fast, silent, and efficient, staying only long enough to collect the fallen munny and to leave lingering shadows to be argued over for the years to come. Numariz was saved in under an hour, but something nagged at the back of Riku’s mind. Thankfully it wasn’t Ansem, but something felt . . . off about the situation. Fighting on Heyperion didn’t make things any better, but the boy started to take special note of his surroundings.

Heyperion was a little more developed than Numariz, but nowhere near as urban as Megalokyo (a world they had nearly saved several weeks back). There were more people in close quarters, so there were more Heartless. That squared one issue nagging him. Too few hearts attracted next to zero Heartless, and then the large distances between people kept them safe. Like everyone was quarantined from a sickness. But then, maybe, some of the Heartless were attracted away from Numariz to Heyperion once this invasion started, or maybe the reverse happened, but still the idea was sound. Heartless moving like predators to where they would have better luck with prey.

Hearts . . . prey . . . food . . .

Shit. He was salivating. And his gums hurt, which was weird in it’s own right.

That aside, there was still some illusive concept that was bothering Riku. But just what that was didn’t hit him in full until they arrived on Tethlem. Tethlem was crawling with a much more colorful plethora of Heartless, and it was with them that he realized what was so odd.

“Emblems . . . there weren’t any Emblem Heartless on the last worlds. They were all Pure---None of the worlds we’ve visited since Castle Oblivion have had Emblems!”

Mickey nodded to him, before ducking under the attack of an oncoming Hook Bat. “In most cases,” he swung out with his Keyblade, freeing and purifying the caged heart, “naturally occurring Heartless are the only ones able to get to a world before it’s lost.” He span, lashing out at a low flying Gargoyle, before flipping over it’s falling and fading form, to bring down his weapon on the head of a Large Body, which Riku finished off from behind. “Heroes like us make all the difference in how long the world can hold out.”

The teen back-sided a Hot Rod out of the way (being as the pesky thing refused to just lay down and die). “Then let’s go find the Keyhole of this world.”

“Try to stay close.”

“I will.”

They broke from the circle they’d cleared to were the Heartless seemed the most dense. Riku repetitively lashed out with his SoulEater, cutting down a multitude of muted, dark rainbows. With the fall of each colorful shell a glowing crystal heart--the metaphysical manifestation of a living being’s essence--was released. He would spin, kick, hop and run over the shoulders of the hoard, and even as his blade arced the King would be matching and exceeding him move for move. There was none too few an occasion that Riku would level his blade only to find Mickey using it as a springboard or stepping stone half a second later; but the mouse would return the favor in kind by either magicking up an arch of ice for the human to run along or leap from, or catching the teen in midair with a free hand then hurling/propelling him onward by transferring his momentum to the boy. [11]

But why were there so many here? The world had only come under attack today, and this wasn’t the most urban of urban worlds. This place wasn’t Megalokyo. Something had drawn the Heartless here.

As he was musing, the teen caught a tsunami of black from the corner of his eye. Riku turned to see that it was a falling mountain of Shadows. The mountain broke apart and they fell like fat black raindrops. Then they were everywhere, every bit of ground that wasn’t already occupied by a Heartless, and many more that were. Their eyes were fresh, glowing bright and pale from recent creation. The color darkened with age, so that meant the forces had been large, and come quickly. The creatures had a severe upper-hand. The King and he needed to locate the world’s heart.

“Riku!”

The male snapped his silver head to the side, hood almost flying off. He was just in time to counter an Angel Star. He sidestepped and split the glasslike lantern-body with one hit to the weak point. Damn, these were some advanced Emblems, things only Ansem could control. But the Heartless lord couldn’t control his minions from inside him.

Right?

No. This wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

Riku spun again, felling more of the smaller artificial Heartless, before bounding out of the spot and over to Mickey. The mouse-King had cleared a path with the aid of a few well placed Thundaga and Firaga spells, melding the two into a mini whirling-vortex of destruction. They were bounding along, clipping or destroying any dark thing that drew too near to them, always mindful of where they seemed to gather in the thickest knots. Follow them to the world heart, then hold them back while Mickey locked the Keyhole. Standard plan.

So what was making him feel off? That there were so many more here? That they had been led and or dumped here? Wait--how was he sure . . .

Ansem’s knowledge . . . dare he look in? Hmm, ‘know thy enemy’. Exploit their weaknesses, turn their power against them . . .

Riku mentally raked over the glowing embers of the Heartless Lord’s mind. The action made him pause mid stride, yet his SoulEater flashed out on reflex when any creature strayed too close. The sovereign noticed this and quickly doubled-back from where he was to within shouting distance of the teen.

But he couldn’t rouse his friend.

Suddenly the silver boy’s head snapped up, his eyes gleaming a hard yellow before fading back to green. He was off like a bolt from a crossbow after that, twirling his winged weapon betwixt his hands. Riku was like a mad dervish, a psychotic top that could not be slowed outside of his own power.

Mickey watched in awe as his human friend leveled every Emblem within the surrounding twenty yard radius of himself. Then in the few seconds it took for the void to be refilled, darkness rose around the boy in a protective fog, and swiftly clothed him in his dark apparel.

In his armor now Riku was slower, but proportionally more powerful. He gathered light along the length of his blade, then swung, throwing an arcing wave of luminescence into the nearest cadre of foes. The silver mortal lashed out again and again, and as he did he thought of Sora’s use of ‘Strike Raid’, though Riku’s light waves didn’t return to him.

The sovereign slammed back onto the scene with the aid of a toppling behemoth-sized Heartless (that looked like a Red Nocturne which had absorbed one too many fire attacks).

‘ . . . Crimson Jazz? An interesting name choice . . .’

‘Danmit! Not now.’ Riku pushed away his revolution, concentrating in full on aiding Mickey as he prepared to launch another hailstorm of spells. Besides, what did he care about their names? Heartless were Heartless, and all needed to be destroyed, and names didn’t really tell you how to do that.

‘Under normal circumstances I’d argue the validity of that statement.’ Ansem’s eyes narrowed even as they swept over the battle field, ‘But I’ll agree, now isn’t the time. These Heartless are not mine, nor do the forms belong to me . . . ,’ then he was smiling again, slow like poisoned honey, ‘the Pure ones, however, know their Lord and Master always.’ The dark man’s eyes burned with wretched power, and the boy’s body shuddered as he was wracked with the steady pulsation of the tyrant’s essence.

Riku dropped to his knees, letting his half invoked Dark Firaga fly as it saw fit. He was radiating the madman’s power . . . and the Shadows around him were responding. Mickey was too, for he had seen the teen collapse and was rushing over to him. Instead he was met with a blockade of Shadows, NeoShadows, Dark Balls, and other like Heartless, all with the goal of going through the royal mouse to get to the heart of the world. The child himself couldn’t do much about his situation other then pant for precious breath as he supported himself on his hands and knees.

A little Shadow ducking-waddle-danced over to him.

Fucking son-of-a-bitch knew he didn’t need this, said he agreed with him. Should have realized the bastard was too stupid to think past his lies to consider--

‘Odd, you’ve grown more sensitive rather than more inured to my darkness. While that is a comforting thing to note, it’s highly problematic given our current predicament.’

‘Then stop doing things! Your darkness hurts!’ The boy curled in on himself, lest he scream from the agony burning in his stretched muscles.

‘Then I’ll just let the renegades eat you, shall I? They are still intent on attacking us, child. So better that my children deter them first. Now if you don’t mind, I’m reminding them that their ‘daddy’ wants things.’

The energy inside Riku rippled again, more natural Heartless manifesting in a tight circle around him. The King tried to wade into the growing thicket, but was rebuked by the sheer numbers and cagy movements. The pale one sunk a little closer to the ground, and the small shadow wiggled over to his side, as if to investigate him.

Very un-Heartless like.

“Leave me . . .” Soft, strained, pained, but enough to get the message across.

“Riku, I won’t--”

“You have to! . . . He *ulp* he won’t let me die, Ansem still needs my body. Just . . . *HAA* --find this world’s heart!” The little Shadow stared up at him, waving it’s antennae back and forth.

“I know that! But--” he jumped out of the way of a falling Air Pirate, “--you can’t travel between worlds on your own anymore! If I can’t save this place, you can’t leave here without my help!” His sword was up again an instant later, bashing back a Bolt Tower.

The little Shadow had crawled between the silvery teen’s arms, huddling in the space between his torso and the ground, still looking him over but now and then poking at him as well. Riku wished that Heartless were intelligent enough to understand requests, being as the thing would ignore an ‘order’ from him to go way. But something crazy happened when Mickey finished speaking his words, the small Heartless narrowed it’s eyes and looked over it’s shoulder at the mouse.

[King-blade is stupid. How he think Heartless go to new worlds? Heartless magick older then Key-magick.]

Shining black and stunned turquoise simultaneously locked onto the pint-sized terror.

‘Did it just . . . but that was . . . what the fuck?’ “But . . . Heartless don’t think.”

‘Oh, yes, and I suppose I’m just a big ball of ‘id’! I’m influencing him! If other Heartless are near me, they gain a modicum of intelligence, sufficient enough to rise above base instinct. Simple, no?’ Really, either the child was growing foolish, or his darkness was having secondary effects neither of them were aware of.

Mickey was the first to recover from the initial shock, for if being King had thought him anything, it was how to roll with the punches life threw at you. “That might be fine and dandy for the Heartless, but what about Riku? Your darkness isn’t human friendly, and there’s no telling what kind of damage will be done to him if he travels with . . . you.”

The Heartless barring the King’s way bristled at his words, but the one inside Riku merely chuckled. The rodent’s incompetence was highly amusing (granted had the situation been dire, he would have found it both annoying and infuriating to leave the boy’s well-being solely in his unworthy hands). Better yet, while the idiot concentrated on charming the Heartless wall into delivering the boy, Ansem’s children could freely hunt out the heart of this world, returning it to the maternal womb of darkness where it could be forged anew into a pure, cleansed, state.

The little Shadow waved it’s antennae back and forth several times before concluding, [King-blade know nothing, learn nothing. Why Heartless hurt Master’s body? Heartless keep Master’s body safe. Keep Little-Master safe too. Master have plan for everything. Master have plan to keep Master’s body and Little-Master safe.]

Mickey frowned, deeply. “Your master lost his body to the dark. It devoured him wh---”

[No! King-blade fool! Master find darkness, and darkness find Master! Master give up weak body, and grow stronger. Now Master have better body. King-blade too stupid to see truth. King-blade’s light make him blind because King-blade’s light is cruel. It wicked and cruel and it burn like many, many day moons, hurting all things it touch. Little-Master’s light is better, it shine like the night sun, soft and pale like Master’s body. Little-Master’s light make the dark strong and warm with no hurt and all heal.]

The little Shadow was hopping up and down in indignation by this point, and ‘his’ brethren looked ready to attack King Mickey where he stood.

“Go!” Riku gasped. “You can’t . . . convince them! . . . Save this world . . . while you can!” The darkness inside him turned over, making his vision swim. “If you save this world, we won’t have to worry about how I get home . . .” He couldn’t stay upright anymore, and with a muted whimper slid into a laying position. Just before his head touched ground, the little Shadow shimmied over and made a pillow of it’s body for the teen.

“Riku!” No, not this--but he couldn’t waste time! No, no, staying was futile, and only made him feel better. “Don’t let them move you! I’ll be back!” Mickey pivoted and sprang off, looking for the largest clustering of darkness. In his running he saw that all the Pure-Bloods were slowly pulling away from their random ‘searching’ and split off between fighting the homemade Heartless for the right to devour victims or moving closer to their master to fight off any of the wayward creatures that attempted to go after Riku.

Clutching his Keyblade tightly the sovereign reviewed what he knew: the blade’s magic translated all languages for him, and those near him. The Heartless only had animal instinct on their own, outside of their Lord, and it made sense that being near him gave them both a physical and mental boost. They were normally limited to such ‘talking’ and ‘thinking’ as, “Heartless smash!” and “Light bad, hearts goooood.” So he was greatly unnerved to hear what sounded like two warring factions among the living shades, with the natural ones calling for their ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ to listen to master, and the man-made ones hissing back that they were doing just what their masters wanted by converting all the living beings on this world. Neither side was giving way, save to him insofar as they ignored the world hopper in the presence of the opposing faction so long as Mickey didn’t swing at them.

But who were these ‘masters’, and why did they want the masses turned? Did they want cheap labor that would obey them? A foolish venture, unless the worlds at large still believed the Heartless Lord dead, then they probably thought that no one could wrest control from them. But this did present a problem, namely that others were capable of, or had found ways/devices to control the Heartless. Furthermore, as of right now there were fewer beasts looking for this world’s heart, which would make getting to it simpler, but finding it more difficult.

The world hearts hid themselves from danger, which meant they hid themselves from help too. Now the darkness that hungered for it couldn’t find it and the light itself couldn’t reveal it without putting it in danger. But for Riku’s sake he had to look.

Or get back to him before things collapsed in on themselves,

* * * * * *

Funny, last he looked the ground was supposed to be hard, not . . . . made of crushed velvet.

Cold crushed velvet.

Cold . . . black . . . wiggly crushed velvet.

[Little-Master is sleepy? Need eats?]

“Nmmm,” Riku forced his brain to connect events. Or at least he tried to before his brain just laughed at him and decided that it like being on holiday.

His brain sounded a hell of a lot like Ansem.

“He is fine child, simply weakened from the stress of bearing my glory.”

Wait . . . red lights. Lots of red lights. Warehouse filled with red lights all singing about the Apocalypse as they dumped electric lamps into the ocean where families were swimming on their vacation.

‘Don’t try to think, you’ll just hurt yourself.’

Okay so Ansem really was speaking, meant that it probably was him and not his own brain laughing at him.

There was something squishy in his hands. . . . And he was sitting up now . . . so many pretty red lights of doom.

Ansem looked about the world through stolen eyes. He could not remain in control for long, this borrowing was draining a large part of his reserves as it was, though it was also better than it could have been. Riku made for a most excellent source of emotional sustenance, satisfying both carnal and biological appetites. But he would make the most of the time he had, for he was an optimist above all. Well a scientist, realist, and optimist. But enough of that, he had things to get in order.

“Little one,” he cooed to the Shadow in his arms, “my body is still weak, and will need attending to. I need you to watch over him when the rodent is around, to keep the pest from harming me.”

The black mass blinked in understanding before cuddling against the heart-like symbol on the boy’s chest. [Watch over Little-Master and Master’s body. Keep safe. Keep fed? Master’s body does not smell like hunt.]

“Ah, good child, but no. My body refuses to eat, and we cannot safely force him to do so. I am fine, for I have other ways of hunting.” He patted the creature softly on it’s head and it snuggled into his hand with a clicking-chittering purr.

‘ . . . Heartless aren’t supposed to be cute . . . or harmless . . .’

‘That brat was once a Heartless, even if only for a few scant moments.’ Let him think about that thorn in his side for an instance instead of trying to reassert his control.

‘I didn’t see him . . . kinda? Wait . . . Ansem was in my head . . . Sora was, but he wasn’t, but he was connected to . . . darkness? . . . Ansem saw Heartless-Sora, so I saw Heartless-Sora? . . . Or am I thinking of the shadow clones I made of him . . . oh dear Gods, I made Heartle--don’t think about that, don’t think about that, don’t think about that, don’t think . . . my hands aren’t at my temples. . . . .’

‘No, they aren’t. But is that really a problem?’ A short distance off a few of his children squealed as they beat back the upstarts trying to surround them.

‘My mouth was moving, but my inner monologue sounded like Ansem, and I have something in my arms that’s cold and velvety and alive. Maybe. And I’m sitting up when I thought I was a few seconds away from passing out. And Ansem’s . . . powers, magick, what-the-fuck-ever isn’t hurting my head as much as it was a little ago . . . .’

‘You left our body vulnerable. I took over. Until you can manage on your own again I plan on staying at the forefront of your mind. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a few tasks to perform.’ He beckoned over several Shadows. “Little ones, leave this place and bring back many of my children from the nearest worlds. If they are too far, bring them from The Dark. Especially the Invisibles. We must make the renegades listen, or punish them for disobedience.” Then he waved them away to perform their task.

‘You . . . Ansem . . . control . . . bad.’ The fog was lifting, even if the enervation wasn’t.

‘Oh, it’s not that horrible, is it?’ A Dark Ball hovered over to them at the dark one’s command. With labored movement, he was able to hoist Riku’s body onto the rounded being, though he had to hold on to each horn for dear life. ‘I’m going to be taking care of you. So please, just stay on this one until everything is over.’

‘Explain.’

‘I would love to stay in control, but it’s very taxing for me to do so right now. But you have been severely weakened by my use of power, which I don’t intend to halt anytime soon lest you be eaten by the rebels. So, by default, the best defense is a good offense between yourself and them, namely my loyal children who will be watching over you as we maneuver though this world.’ The little Shadow settled onto his back, somewhat balanced on his shoulders and head.

‘And go where? I don’t see Mickey, and adults always told us to stay in one place if we got lost.’ Stupid lethargy, had to get his muscles working.

‘Ah, but you aren’t lost, you’re with me. And as for our destination . . .’, “To the heart of this world, of course.” The Heartless that weren’t engaged in fighting pulled back to them in a small ring as the Dark Ball began to glide away in a mostly random direction.

It was sniffing the air, searching for any clue to where they could find the entrance to this world’s heart.

‘I’m going to stop them.’ His wobbly legs be damned.

‘You can’t even lift your hands. You were on the verge of lapsing into a coma, or a near catatonic state. Please boy, for once don’t be difficult. Let me play to my specialty, and fix things that are beyond your understanding.’ The dark scholar continually scanned the horizon, wondering if the boy’s body had a special adaptation that allowed him to find Keyholes. Perhaps that sense of smell could be put to use . . .

Riku felt a few tugs at the edges at his mind, just as the Dark Ball wobbled to a halt. ‘What do you want now? Help finding the world heart? It’s hiding, same as the Keyhole.’ A few NeoShadows surged forth to deal with the gang of Rabid Dogs that had lunged at their group.

Ansem lifted their head, taking in a lung-full of air, scenting the surroundings. ‘You are the Keyblade’s chosen, surely that hunk of metal doesn’t do all the work?’

‘Don’t know, ask Sora. ‘Sides, Keyblades don’t like me anymore. . . ,’ he wasn’t good enough anymore. Maybe he never had been . . .

The Dark Ball lurched forward at its’ Lord’s nudging. ‘Arcane artifacts like that don’t just simply ‘forget’ a master.’ Ansem mentally shook himself. The logic was sound, but neither he nor the boy possessed any proof to back that up. Besides the audacity of it, that the Keyblades were living things . . .

Then why did it feel . . . right?

Bah, he had no time for this, better to think on it later, when they wouldn’t be eaten.

‘Forget? No. The Keyblade went back to Sora after . . . I confused it . . . It goes only to strong hearts, you told me as much. My heart isn’t---I can’t hold you and a Keyblade at the same time! You made that fake blade of darkness to unlock Sora and Kairi’s hearts, so that doesn’t count.’

The Heartless Lord groaned, ‘Boy when will you learn? I have not tainted you, but strengthened you. The qualities that make you a perfect candidate to hold a Keyblade are vital to me, and I have no reason to tamper with them. Ergo the weaponry has no reason to rebuke you! Now, your heightened sense of smell, tell me--unless you wish me to force it from your memories--can it discover a world heart even when it is ‘hiding’ as you say? Does each heart have a different scent?’

Riku mentally shrugged, then rolled over. He wasn’t about to help the madman, and he wasn’t really convinced the idiot could tap his mind. Besides, the world had the same smell as the heart, it was the people, animals, and constructs that had individual scents. And ya know, if Ansem wasn’t about to eat the world-heart, then he had no reason to make himself sick getting back in control sooner then it was going to happen. The bastard had said he couldn’t keep this up forever, and Riku wasn’t one hundred percent certain that he’d be fully functional once he got his body back. Though, if this was taking some kind of toll on Ansem to stay in control, he might as well let the fool weaken himself as much as possible. Hell, he might even get a chance for a peaceful night tonight.

Ansem growled, but his next words were lost when their Heartless mount squealed and zigzagged backwards, away from a charging Wyvern. The scholar swore, knowing that he was still too weak to call up his guard-shadow, and that another good zagg by the ball would throw him from his perch. Grimacing, the amber-eyed male thrust forth the boy’s left arm and called up SoulEater.

At least, that’s what Riku initially thought he was calling up. But this blade’s grip was too long, far too long, and it had a second SoulEater attached at the end of the grip, with the latter blade facing the opposite way of the former one. A trickle of memory pierced the silver boy’s mind, and he faintly recalled ghostly images of when the tyrant had used and manipulated his body, along with mass amounts of darkness, to fight against his brunet friend. The Heartless Lord had called up his infamous twin-headed weapon.

Time moved, and the off-magenta dragonkin slammed it’s jaws around the middle of the pole-grip.

“Obey me.” He snarled the command, pouring a fraction of his energy into bending the thing’s will to his.

The Wyvern continued to grind it’s teeth on the metal.

[Submit! I am your master!] A little more energy flowed behind his words.

[No! Not creator! Creators want hearts! I get heart! I get YOUR heart!] It screeched and then bit down again, as if thinking to cut the weapon in half.

[IS Bad! Will No Hurt Master!] And the tiny Shadow launched itself from the human, onto the head of the Heartless beast. It began to claw at the eyes of it’s wayward ‘brother’, hoping to give Ansem precious time to retreat.

The flying monster reared up with a howl--dropping the weapon from it’s jaws--trying to buck it’s rider. The little Shadow was thrown, but not with enough force to shake him off. ‘His’ claws instead carved trails along the back of the fiend, running from snout to tail-tip, before momentum carried the small one to the ground. The creature continued to wail in pain from the assault, writhing and convulsing in the very air.

Riku was stunned. Ansem simply sighed at the loss, and nudged the Dark Ball away.

It was then put out of it’s misery, when from the dark man’s right an obsidian sword cleaved through the air, and split the Wyvern in twain. The felled Heartless turned to ashen smoke and dissipated on the wind. Turquoise eyes flicked over and the ebony scholar breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the Invisible that bowed before him.

[Your Majesty called. Direct us.] Several more flew over to them, and likewise bowed.

“Excellent. We seek the world heart, but some of your brothers and sisters have been confused. There is magick at work here not our own, so we must work quickly.” Ansem dismissed his weapon to conserve his fading strength.

[Lord, we saw it as we journeyed here. There are few Things Of Light And Heart left on this world. The Heart knows it is lost, and it has begun to reveal itself to the stars.] Their heads were still bowed. Underneath them, the little Shadow blinked up at it’s Master, antennae wiggling furiously in anticipation of the coming feast.

“Perfection!” Ansem crowed, “Take me to it, quickly! I have no time.” One of the humanoids stabbed it’s sword into the ground before moving to lift the teen’s frame into it’s arms.

Riku mentally struggled, but the madman clung desperately to the external world. During the transfer, the little Shadow climbed up the oversized cutlery, and waited for it’s wielder to wrap it’s tail around the hilt to remove it from the soil. When the Invisible reclaimed it’s sword, the smaller shade turned the larger one’s body into a jungle-gym, and traversed it’s form to alight once more on the human’s head.

With both passengers settled, the platoon of Heartless sped off in the direction of dinner.

‘No!’ Riku’s mind surged and slammed against the Heartless psyche.

‘Stay down, boy.’ Ansem’s brows knitted together in concentration. “The rodent is here, be wary. And if I should succumb to my host before I feast, hold him down. I want him to at least watch. No,” a poisoned smile crossed his features, the plan forming in the very instant, “better yet, bring him close enough to smell the main course. Bring food to him even, a few mouthfuls should bear interesting results. But do not force him.” He had warned the silver child after all. Now to see if he would bite.

[As you will it, so shall it be.]

‘NO!! You can’t! I Won’t! Goddamnit, go back!’ And he was pounding and pushing against the older one with renewed vigor.

The man chuckled, snuggling himself down into the preternaturally strong arms, letting his children worry about the small things. ‘Back where? Into your heart? Well, if you are desperate for me--’

‘NO--Uhaahnn!!’

Once more he felt the dark one deep inside his most tender and vulnerable of places.

Ansem closed his eyes with a purr, wrapping his mental arms around the small consciousness. He nibbled lightly on Riku’s energy, weakening the teen and gaining back much needed stamina. The elder one’s power pulsed gently inside the stolen body, calling all his loyal children to the hunt. He knew that out there, somewhere, the wretched King was quelling the lives of darkness, but alas it was imperative that he feed, and his fallen children would be honored by the survivors. Even if they would not be remembered. But then, in accordance with the laws of conservation, he would be seeing them all again as the universe was a closed system, and the usurper was not actually destroying his babies, but returning them to Kingdom Hearts, where they would be born anew. Perhaps they would be the first ones reincarnated into Ansem’s Utopia where all things had returned to the natural order of darkness. This thought alone playacted him, for he was still saddened by the necessity of using the Heartless as shields for the infuriating wretch to cut through on his way to find Riku and himself, and most likely attempt to keep the Heartless Lord from having his first decent meal since . . . .

Bah, too long ago to remember.

Riku shivered and moaned around the bastard’s length. Every second he struggled took another erg of energy from him. But he had to get back into control, the Invisibles were fast fliers, speed demons even, and they might reach the world heart at any moment. And yet, Ansem felt so thick inside him; he was warmer and pressing right there inside him--But he couldn’t! Riku couldn’t just give in to him, just let him have his way, no! Then the tyrant shifted and heat surged throughout his mental avatar, and he lost his breath. Ansem, suckling on his neck, holding his arms at his sides, warm and thick, and brushing against it, and he just wanted to pass out for a few seconds, but he couldn’t! He refused! And refused, and refused, and refused as he was carried all the way to the heart of the world. Even the battle cries of warring Heartless couldn’t penetrate the black fog Ansem had whipped up around him, so he was like a doll as they traveled.

The Invisibles pinpointed the heart, and called upon The Dark to instantly teleport there.

Ansem gasped at the beauty of it. They were inside a massive gold-leaf colored theater, most likely an important sight in this world. It had all the hallmarks of an opera-hall, with box-office seats, multiple levels, high ceilings from which perfectly crystalline chandeliers hung from silver moorings. The floors had plush carpeting, and the walkways were trimmed with red velvet, the seat cushions were of some purple fabric, but the armrests, legs, and other like framework was gilded gold. It was like an amphitheater, made more cavernous by the illustration of the night sky painted inside the dome ceiling, with a full moon adorning the apex. The oversized stage was bare but for a single prop.

A door.

An open door.

And in that archway, faintly glowing, and standing at the height and width of the frame was the outline of a mundane keyhole.

But Ansem could see beyond it, into the twilight heart of the world. It was black as night, but filled with a phosphorus blue light that came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It was like looking at the cosmos, and all he had to do was step forth into it.

Oh rapture, to at last be physically present--to at last be the one devouring a world, and not need his lovelies to do so in his stead! All his ‘Pure’ children looked on in anticipation, giving way to their master, so that he could have the first bite. When the one carrying him placed him on Riku’s feet, the body wobbled a little, but he otherwise held himself stable. The little Shadow hopped off his head, he would wait patiently with his larger brothers to feast. Ansem spread his arms, for balance, and walked on, salivating and aroused. A heart, a heart! To at last know a space of peace from the relentless hunger that plagued him, that overwhelming drive to save all of creation from the ravages of the light, and unite all in the harmony of nightfall. As he drew near, the scholar inhaled the heady scent of power. . . .

All a scant instant before Riku performed the mental equivalent of a bulrush into his left side. It took everything the teen had to dredge up every particle of his light, and it left him vulnerable and weak to use it without a focus, to the point that he sank down to his knees in sheer exhaustion. It had only worked because Ansem had been distracted, and he had never attempted to do that with his light before. He doubted that would ever work again. Riku expected the surrounding Heartless to advance on him at any moment, or at least the ones the bastard had given orders to, but that was fine. They would wait for him to eat, he wouldn’t eat, eventually Mickey would get down here, or Ansem would have to order them to take him from this place before it collapsed on his head. So he could deal, because he wasn’t hungry.

But he was confused. Where was that music coming from, and when had it started? His eyes swam as he opened them, scanning to pinpoint the source, for what human could be left in this desolate . . . city from the smell of things. Wait, weren’t they just in the country side? And what kind of building was this?

~~Don’t tell me what to think
‘cause I don’t care, this time
Don’t tell me what you believe
‘cause you won’t be there
to catch me when I fall
But you’ll need me when I’m not here at all
Miss me when I’m gone again, yeeaaah yeaah~~

The silver boy could see no one, only he and the Heartless were here. But it sounded like the origin was . . . in front of him? Were they behind the Door and Keyhole? Something . . . tugging at him, at his heart and soul. Something wanted him to stand up, to walk forward.

~~I’m going down in flames
I’m falling into this again, yeeeaaahh
I’m going down in flames
I’m falling into this again
Oh no~~

This made for an odd parallel. Wasn’t this exactly what was happening to this world?

~~Don’t tell me how life is
‘cause I don’t really really wanna know
Don’t tell me how this game ends
‘cause we’ll just see how it goes
Catch me when I fall
or you’ll need me when I’m not here at all
Miss me when I’m gone again, yeeeaaahh~~

The Heartless remained motionless. Maybe they couldn’t tell who was in control of his body? But, Riku stood, he couldn’t ignore the urge to move closer to the heart. Maybe it was the last vestiges of what had once made him a ‘perfect’ wielder for the Keyblade.

~~I’m going down in flames
I’m falling into this again, yeah
I’m going down in flames
I’m falling into this again~~

The steps came naturally, one foot before the other. And then, before his mind could catch up to him, Riku had pressed both hands flat to the opening of the Keyhole. Now the music wasn’t just around him, it was in him, inside his head, pulsing beneath his skin, beating in time with his--no, his heartbeat was changing to match the song! Could it be? He had never been at ground zero when a world died. Was it possible that all creation had a melody?

~~Noooooooow, on my way down here
I’m falling
(faaalling . . .)
On my way
 (dooown . . .)
On my way down here
(faaalling . . .)
I’m falling down
again
I’m falling down
I’m falling down
I’m falling down~~

~~I’m going down in flames
I’m falling into this again, yeah
I’m going down in flames
I’m falling into this again~~

~~Now, on my way down here
I’m falling
 (faaalling . . .)
All the way
All the way down here
 (faaalling . . .)
I’m falling down again
now I’m falling down~~

A sharp chill ran down the boy’s spine as the song started to loop back to the beginning. He was positive that this world was crying out to others in rage and warning. Rage that this should happen to such a vibrant land, that nothing could help it. The anger might have been at all the worlds that were at peace, or maybe a particular entity. But even in it’s death throws the world was telling others that it was doomed and that all should avoid coming here, for the Heartless were making short work of it. It was . . . beyond him how something could be so rational, so analytical in it’s own death. He was saddened by the knowledge that he once possessed the capabilities to help, but had thrown everything away for the chance to explore. Now this world was dying because he had been a fool. Riku placed his forehead on the surface of the opening, the energy within semisolid under his touch. He wept for the world he never knew.

Ansem howled, having regained himself. He had been so close, he had been there, right there! Mere moments away from at last eating! EATING!! What cruelty drove the child to deny him that base right of all living things?! The man was blind with fury, and let his emotions lash out, playing havoc with Riku’s heart. Ansem’s hunger had been one thing when he was on the outside, controlling the body, now the human had to feel the other’s ravenous anguish rising inside himself.

The teen sobbed, wishing there was something--anything!--he could do other than wait for Mickey to show up. The world called to his heart and mind as Ansem’s hunger gnawed at his belly, and with a sickening realization he noticed that not only was he salivating, he had grown claws and fangs to assist in the horrid act. He had no quarter for rest, even the song had stopped, perhaps the world was at last too weak to sing.

“I’m sorry! . . . I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a hero . . .”

~~Won't you cure my tragedy?
Won't you cure my tragedy?
Don't take her smile away from me
she's broken and I'm far away
Won't you cure my tragedy?
Won't you cure my tragedy?
If you make the world a stage for me
then I hope that you can hear me scream
Won't you cure my tragedy?~~

It was like the wind had been knocked out of Riku, and even the Heartless Lord gave pause. The pale human rocked back on his heels, unable to stand. Surely the world . . . it couldn’t possibly sense him here.

~~Can you hear me scream?
Can you hear me scream?~~

Oh he could hear it just fine, but what did it want? No sooner thought, the music shifted again. It was strong, but the other song was like a ghostly underlay.

~~My God, my tourniquet
return to me salvation
My God, my tourniquet
return to me salvation~~

~~(Return to me salvation)~~

~~Can you hear me scream?~~

Yes, he could hear, but what did it mean?! “What do you want?”

~~(I long to die)~~

<centered>+*~*~*~ I want to die. ~*~*~*+</centered>

Wait . . . that wasn’t sung. That was spoken . . . that was . . . a request? From the world? To die? To be killed?! By him?!!? With his Own Hands!?? No! No, he couldn’t! It went against everything he knew! Why would it want that? Why could it possibly want that?

~~Can you hear me scream?~~
~~(I long to die)~~

[Sire, we know your orders are not to force the boy, but we have been unable to sense any life on this world for the last several minutes. If he is in control, we can attempt to wrestle him, though we fear hurting him needlessly. Also . . . he appears to be . . . interacting with the heart, hence our inaction. Do you wish us to intervene, or continue to stand watch?] The Invisible batted back the Shadows that tried edging up to the stage again.

“You,” the mortal turned to face them, “. . . can try.” The threat would have been more impressive if he hadn’t fallen down when he tried to summon his sword.

~~Can you hear me scream?~~~~(I long to die)~~
Can you hear me scream?~~

“You . . . may not need to. But if it comes to it, feed without me. This world must be saved before the rat undoes us. Ugh--” Bah, if the brazen fool would just eat . . .

~~My God, my tourniquet
return to me salvation
My God, my tourniquet
return to me salvation~~

Riku wailed, it was like everything inside him was burning. Was the world acting out, trying to force him into . . . eating it’s heart? Did it . . . not see the point in living if there was no life left on it? It was all so murky, why would it want this?

~~My wounds cry for the grave
my soul cries for deliverance
Will I be denied?
Christ
Tourniquet
My suicide~~

~~--suicide--suicide--suicide--suicide--suicide--suicide--My suicide~~

Oh god, that didn’t sound at all natural for the song. The world really wanted death. And he . . . he was starting to want, to truly want to feed, to take power and nourishment from the heart.

~~Won't you cure my tragedy?
Won't you cure my tragedy?
Don't take her smile away from me
she's broken and I'm far away
Won't you cure my tragedy?
Won't you cure my tragedy?
If you make the world a stage for me
then I hope that you can hear me scream
Won't you cure my tragedy?~~

Riku swayed to his feet, tears streaming down his face. Vision blurred he staggered towards the general direction of the Door, a chorus of hisses rising in renewed anticipation. He moved as if on puppet strings, in the thrall of Ansem’s terrible and veracious hunger. The world pulled at him spiritually, mentally, the heart called to him bodily . . . carnally. He wanted--it wanted--Ansem wanted--and it was all swirling in Riku’s head. But what he was about to do was . . . a sin, another thing that could never be forgiven. This was . . . beyond madness, beyond any other mistake he had ever made. Couldn’t the world just . . . hang on for a little bit? Mickey would eventually be here to lock it, and once that happened the Heartless wouldn’t be able to touch it. Then . . . Riku didn’t know, maybe some world travelers could find it and breathe new life into it.

Wasn’t it that simple? To wait?

~~I can't take this anymore
I can't feel this anymore
Won't take and give her pain to me
'cause my whole life I've made mistakes
Can you hear me scream?
Can you hear me scream?~~

Was . . . was it in that much pain?

~~I can't take this anymore; I can't feel this anymore--I can't take this anymore; I can't feel this anymore--~~

His lips brushed against the inky surface of the not so negative space of the Keyhole. The energy inside had a skin to it, like the surface tension of water. His hands gripped either side of the opening for balance, lest he face fault into his next meal. But . . . but he could never be forgiven for this . . . this was so wrong . . .

~~Won't take and give her pain to me--Won't take and give her pain to me~~

<centered>+*~*~*~ Then take and give your pain to me. ~*~*~*+</centered>

‘Really?’

<centered>+*~*~*~ Honestly. ~*~*~*+</centered>

‘Just like that?’

<centered>+*~*~*~ Please. ~*~*~*+</centered>

The unabashed pain in it’s voice, if the way it was communing with him could be called a voice, was the final straw. He didn’t want to be the one responsible for this, but he would be damned before he willing gave over control to Ansem again. Riku shyly reached out with his tongue, only daring to skim the surface.

The taste was of instant addictions, and he fell on it like a starved beast.

He sank his fangs in first, then sucked as if drawing out water--in blood--his body shaking from the sudden intake of such power. Around him Ansem’s children cheered, and moved closer for their turns. The smaller Shadows squeezed between his legs and entered the heart. The NeoShadows would have tried the same, but instead settled for scooping up handfuls from the edge of the hole to pass out to the others. The larger Heartless continued to stand watch, but even their hunger was evident, and they readily took any substances offered them. Had their Lord not been there, they would have fed mindlessly and with reckless abandon, but in the dark man’s presence they had the foresight to cooperate.

Riku closed his jaws, and had his first real bite of the heart. The ‘meat’ was of a consistency somewhere between raw Salmon and fresh Jell-O, interesting and easy to swallow. He went back for more, feeling Ansem’s need to gouge himself silly. Heaven help him, at the edges at least if felt like their minds were synchronizing, uniting for this one moment. His grip flexed involuntarily. He wanted more, to get his hands into it, get his face into it. He also wanted more room to work, get the Heartless away from him. His grip flexed again, something half remembered . . . then he just let go.

The Keyhole’s outline dissolved taking the door frame with it, and an archway ten times its size came into being. It was like so much of the heart’s protective wall had vanished. The boy looked up with bulging cheeks, half a mouthful protruding. He chewed thoughtfully, scanning with curious feral yellow eyes. Had he done that, or had the world?

Overjoyed, Ansem pressed their body against the black energy and outer ‘flesh’ of the heart. They were swallowing by the mouthful, no longer trying to chew, the sheer need to devour all that they could--with the very real threat that they could be stopped at any moment--spurring them on. And they weren’t so alone now, all the inhabitants of the room had turned to feed, and it at last started to sound like others were coming in from the outside to join them.

Somewhere, at the back of his mind, the world sighed in gratitude and relief. The music started up again, the final burst saved for this swan song.

~~I’m walking a wire, feels likes a thousand ways I could fall
To want is to buy, but to live is to die and you can’t take it all
When everything is said and done I won’t have one thing left
What happened to everything I’ve ever known?~~

~~‘Cause all they gave me was this ticket to heaven, that ticket to heaven, said to lie in the bed that you make
Now I’m restless and I’m running from everything, I’m running from everything, I’m afraid it’s a little too late~~

~~Soft voices lie, innocents die, now ain’t that a shame?
And all of your dreams, and all your money they don’t mean a thing
When everything is said and done, you won’t have one thing left
What happened to everything I’ve ever known?~~

~~All they gave me was this ticket to heaven, that ticket to heaven, said to lie in the bed that you make
Now I’m restless and I’m running from everything, I’m running from everything, I’m afraid it’s a little too late~~

~~It’s a little toooo laaaaaateeeeeeeee~~

~~All they gave me was this ticket to heaven, that ticket to heaven, said to lie in the bed that you make
Now I’m restless and I’m running from everything, I’m running from everything, I’m afraid it’s a little too late
 (Aww I’m running from everything)
All they gave me was this ticket to heaven, that ticket to heaven, said to lie in the bed that you make
(Was this ticket to heaven . . .) (Lie in the bed that you make)
Now I’m restless and I’m running from everything, I’m running from everything, I’m afraid it’s a little too late
 (Aww I’m running from everything) (It’s a little too late)~~

~~Oh ho, woooah ho
It’s a little too lateeeee~~

Beautiful and tragic, it was passing on the last of its wisdom to the far reaching stars.

By this point the pale boy’s stomach was visibly distended, but the scent of the world had put him in a frenzy, and he was lost to everything but the act of consuming. They continued to gorge, Ansem moaning in absolute ecstasy now and again, Riku’s eyes still flooding even as he gouged out new chunks with his mouth. The bottom half of his face was soiled with black, his arms up to the elbows were likewise stained, as were the toes of his boots and the majority of the torso of his dark armor. He looked positively savage with his hellcat eyes and gory maw. Little tidbits of ‘meat’ dotted his cheeks and clung to the undersides of his claws.

But he couldn’t stop, only feel undying remorse.

Riku shuddered even as he ate. Too much and he would burst, right? But the world wanted this? How did one know their limit without experimenting? A feast so that he could hibernate for a time . . .

Time was a lost concept on him, on them. As long as the hunger and thirst persisted they sucked, swallowed and chewed more and more of the heart into nonexistence. They couldn’t tell who, if any being, was near them.

That was why Mickey--who had essentially snuck his way in rather than fighting the endless hordes surrounding the room--was able to get close to his friend’s body. Actually, that was why King Mickey not only got close to the boy, he was able to swoop in on a curtain rope, hook his one arm around said boy’s waist, and then use his Key-magick to get them off the dying world and back to their hotel room. Mickey had been flabbergasted by what he saw. He would have continued staring, but the death throws of the world were too dangerous--a wall of black energy had been hard on his heels.

When they reappeared in the room, worlds away, the mouse had no idea what reaction--heck he had no idea who to expect. Would Riku wake up? Would Ansem try to kill him?

For an answer, the boy blinked his eyes several times, their hue slowly returning to normal. His gaze stayed steady though, never once wavering from the wall before him. His breathing was even, and he seemed otherwise relaxed.

Until his armor faded out of existence, leaving clean clothes in its place. At that point, Riku promptly passed out where he stood, leaving the sovereign to drag his comatose form into the bed and tidy-up later.
----------------
[1] ::Giggle:: Inside “Naruto” joke: friends and I sometimes say ‘chaka’ [Cha ka] instead of Chakra [Sha kra]. And ya know, there is fire chakra in ‘Nuto’ [New toe]. XD

[2] Don’t know why, but I think when Roxas says things like, “___ ‘n’ ___” he’d pronounce it like, “___ ‘in’ ___” whereas Ax and Dem would pronounce it in the former fashion. Meh, smack me if you think that’s stupid. And smack me if you have an alternative. XD

[3] Japanese honorific meaning ‘Lord’. And since Samurai serve a lord . . .

[4] As far as Roxas knows, he’s telling the truth.

[5] Stupid SquareEnix, every other Org. char got to channel their element. But they pounded it into the players’ heads that Nobodies are forsaken by BOTH light and dark. So what about Roxas? He’s got light, that should do something for him, right? Nope, having light just lets him use a KeyBlade of light . . . . except Oblivion is 1 dark-ass MoFo KeyBlade!!! Screw you Enix! My Roxas gets to pitch Light-Balls!! Fuckin’ Orbs Of Destruction! And probably other shit too, once I figure out the logistics of Light-Energy based attacks. . . .

[6] Gender neutral pronouns, zie = S/he, zer = him/her. I think of Dusks and Creepers as ‘it’s, but all of the member specific Nobodies are evolved enough to have semi-personalities, and thus genders. I’m sorry, I’m weird. X.x;;

[7] Oh god . . . found a new online ‘toy-store’ to do research at. . . . Riku is gonna wanna kill me by the end of this. XD And expect more ‘props’ later.

[8] Whole, boneless chicken breasts are filled with bread crumbs, ginger & apricot halves. They’re grilled & brushed with apricot jam. [http://grilling.betterrecipes.com/chickenwithapricotstuffing.html]

[9] A ground beef and noodle casserole with cheese and prepared spaghetti sauce. Noodles are combined with browned ground beef, Cheddar cheese soup, and other ingredients. [http://southernfood.about.com/od/pastabake/r/bl90911f.htm]

[10] Must double check if he used a gummi-ship or not. I’d think not, because he’s that damn spiffy, and because they’d have been able to track him if he did. Outlaying Heartless = the stuff we shoot down in the Gummi ships, both games. And yes, he was using Keyblade magick, but come on, you know I had to make the joke. XD

[11] Everyone remember how in Advent Children, all the players keep grabbing Cloud’s hand and throwing him upward? Ah . . . I love Vincent’s line for that: “Fly.” And then he just chucks Cloud like he’s a ragdoll. XD And Cid used his frickin’ lance, his goddamned LANCE to throw Cloud higher. My gods, if he’d been just a few inches off with that sucker, it would have been Shish-ka-Cloud! (or is that Choca-bob?) Meh, same principle here. Because Mickey is that awesome in KH II.

Special/Note: Sign you’ve been paying too much attention to Org. 13/become addicted to Org, 13 . . . you spell ‘Zero’ with an X . . . and you second guess yourself when you go to correct it. Thank you spell check. XD {And meh betas, ‘cuz meh spell-enz r teh sux w/o beta love. .:Heart all my betas & readers:.}

A/N:

[[Removed to comply with new AFF guidelines. Please see the MM.org version for full A/Ns: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/156268]]
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“Angel of Twilight: Clockwork Breakdown”