HOME | DD

Description
Chapter 16

Pink eyes reflected red. Soft lips snarled rage. The anger in her heart was as plain as the darkness below, and they were not feelings she felt alone. Her silver mate, five long quills upon his head, felt the psyche of his mind slowly cracking beneath the weight of the crimes beneath him. Though not one among the many below, their cries were as audible and straining as if he stood not but a pace from the many. Green hues of his powerful mind began to trickle across the ends of his clenched fingers. The will to kill began to pursue him within the walls of his mind.

"Relax." The word given did not match the tone derived. Both of the angered whipped their heads to the speaker, and let not their rage be quelled. "If you allow that anger to move your heart, then are you truly any better than the monsters beneath us?" His words were given so cold, so… uncaring. But they could not be ignored. Truth laced his harsh tone, and honesty swelled through his words. If they were to give in to dark desires… then no better than the Heartless below, they would be.

Her teeth clenched, Amy Rose slowly loosened the grip upon her Pico Pico hammer. Eyes shut to hid her vision of red from the others around her, and breath deep to calm her calling dark. A hand was placed upon her shoulder, turning the young hedgehog to one who wished for her attention. Though she turned and faced, she would not allow her eyes to see.

"We can defeat them, of that I am certain." The good doctor spoke once more. "But for such to come, you must not given."

Cream continued to silently cry, grasping Tails as the last link of a dying world.

-----------------------

Six shots left.

He barreled to the left with all the might he could. A resounding crash filled the realm's silent air as the land he once stood upon was sliced and diced. The red claw rose from the shattered earth, trailing with it power unmeasured. Hideous black sparks flew from the earth below, and unholy red aura screamed from the claw itself.

A dead arm landed upon the ground, nigh a meter away. Momentum carried well, as the orange fox's good arm twisted the pistol mid-spin. His thumb drew the hammer. Finger on the trigger. Eyes down the sight.

BANG!

Five shots left.

The hot metal met feral wolf's only normal hand. Impact was instant, and result satisfying. The entire mass of the raging timber wolf cringed in pain, and howled with fearful might. A red claw grasped the bleeding appendage, hissing as the precious liquid worked its way through the deadly metal. It met the ground with dark contrast, red on black, and surrounded by green.

The fox stood his ground, pistol trained and eyes straight. Through his shattered blue frames, he aimed at creature before him. It could end now. A single blow the head, eyes hidden from his view, and defenses focused upon its own pain. He was forgotten in this moment, and he could easily end her all together.

But he would not.

Whatever the cause, and whatever the reason, he was brought here. Forced here by the man in a tunic white and armor bright. Asked to care for a life, female if the details still held through his injured body. No other was around but the one before him. But then the question still remained.

How was he to care for a life, which wished to end his own?

"P-Pardon me." The voice shook in pain. Just muttering the words caused his gun to fall off balance. He flexed, and readjusted. He'd try and reach her, to claim whatever senses of reality she still posses, but it would be done with his guard still high. "A-are you alr-r-right?" Another fall, another flex.

A low whine came from the fallen wolf, blood pooling the darkened ground beneath, just managing to catch his attention, but no more than that. His foot took a hesitant step towards his fallen foe. The oddly colored grass beneath his feet crunched as the weight was set, but nothing more than another low whine came from the bleeding wolf.

"Is… is th-there something y-y-you need?" Now his gun fell almost completely off target. A silent note was made to keep his words short, or his only defense would be lost. Yet, to his grand surprise, the wolf's cries ceased, and her form grew still. In unison, he ceased his slow march towards her.

"Hello?" His gun did not fall, and his eyes do little than stare through broken frames. That wolf of green, in an aura of red, hunched as if dead, yet still very much alive. Something dark was becoming of her, and it did little, if not nothing, to quell the pain and nervous intent of the orange fox. His head whipped slightly, removing the fallen black strands of hair from his face. His sights down the pistol, will steeled, he moved closer to her.

The grass grew thin and bare, as only the dead black land was beneath his feet. Yet not a single step taken shook the wolf from her near catatonic state.

"I-is… there anything… I-I can do?" Her head turned, and the sight bore a new hole through his mind.

Empty eyes met his own. Though and shaped, they were nothing but a hollow shell from which her bitter tears poured. Silent streams marring and wetting the fur upon her face, twisting itself within the blood from her wounds. Ears, supposed to always stand high on guard and attack, were hung low against the black mess that was her hair. White fur stained red with the same wounds as before. Wounds he had given her, and scars she would be doomed to keep. Though crystalline glasses, his eyes met the source.

A hole through her right ear.

As if the capillaries were arteries, the vile liquid poured from the wounds. Sunk low within her fur, hidden scarce upon her hair, and staining hard the lovely face it was once within.

"It hurts…" It was a hoarse whisper that met his ears, given my the pained wolf beneath him. "Why does this hurt so much?" For a moment, and nothing more, he let his eyes fall down from her face, seeing beyond her already marred face.

Beneath her chest, and even with her waist, the red claw that so nearly killed him, held her normal paw as it bled. But what kept him from rising again, from looking this wolf once more in the eyes was not the pain he had caused, nor the blood he had seen, but what ELSE came from that wound he made. Something far more vile, and far more cruel, poured from the wolf's open wound.

Gold.

She was bleeding gold.

-----------------------

"What a curious case we seem to have taken." The Nobody spoke with his head held by the chin of his own hand. A crutch to relax his head, but flex his arms in a hold. His hair flipped lightly within the wind, heavy in length, but as blonde as the blinding sun. Ocean blue eyes held before them a sight even he had yet to conjure before now. A twisted form of desire and deceit unheard of by even the mighty Organization he pledged himself to be.

A monster.

Not word to label the odd, or set apart from the norm, but a true example of a hideous beast. A creature with sights so sickening and desires so dark, it gave the Chilly Academic a rather… cold thought.

'Could I even control this beast?' His words remained unspoken as his eyes continued to bore the creature, the monster, before him.

He noted the blades in place of claws, long and sharp. They rendered and tore the metal beneath its form, letting the steel cry as it was irreparably scarred. He took care to memorize the shape and texture of the beast's teeth. Far longer than the canines of any animal, and dripping with a formless mass that even he was skeptical to relate to the darkness that had now corrupted him. He did all he could to remember the new pair of eyes bored well within the creature's heads. And he did, with the greatest of ease, be sure to remember the additional heads now placed upon the beast's torso. All three held in a line, neck to neck, and ear to ear. Yet, the academic quickly concluded, the heads were not of unison shape, and most certainly not of desire.

The one to the blonde's observed right had anatomies missing, replaced by things unethical. And ear for an eye, a horn for a tooth, even a whip for a tongue. The center of the three, and clear leader of them all, was not of misshapen identity, but of horrendous might. A muscled jaw clenched and barked at the Nobody before it, eager to devour the heartless flesh, to savor the shell as a starving man would a feast. The same yellow of eyes of hollow desire and empty will bore into the blondes own crystalline blue eyes. The rage near mirroring across the curious orbs. But then to the left, the creature's right, was a shape of most despicable form. Weak and shriveled, whimpering as if struck, it refused even the darkness to pear upon it's form. It's pathetic shape hung low and bent hard, leaving it's face to hide upon it's furred chest, cringing into it's own red emblem of the lost, the forgotten, the Heartless.

And Vexen was intrigued.

Of all the Heartless he had once before seen rise, and of all the creatures he had witnessed birthed, never before had something so… unique been formed. Splitting apart the very heart it now fed off of into three heads, three sides of the creature's will. Truly bizarre and marvelously new.

The darkness of the world's almost seemed to seep from the very orifices of this one, seeping into the clawed metal holes beneath, and vanishing ultimately from sight. A generator perhaps, a guide for the endless darkness to rule. What came to him seeped into the world, and would forever be apart of it. Then brutality would then be the center head, an unforgiving force desiring nothing but the annihilation of others. A possible method behind the madness.

But then what of the other two? Certainly the pathetic head hung low and hidden poorly was cowardice, but why such fear? Fear of the darkness? Fear of death? Fear of the end? Fear of the nothingness? Fear of the unknown? There were far too many possibilities for conjectures alone to decide. But what tests could be used on such hypotheses?

Perhaps throwing him into true darkness, abandoning him for the heads to tear at the other. Or maybe even banishment to the void. The nothingness would no doubt drive even this monstrous form insane.

"Hey Vex, how's it hangin?" The voice of his superior spoke from behind. The chilly academic spared barely a passing glance.

"I'm merely thinking of tests to further my understanding of this Heartless before me."

"That's cool. Wanna see mine? He's a real 'Speed Demon'!" An aggravated sigh left the lips of the Ice King, and his head near spun with a tight command to leave or be gone, but such threats and idle remarks died within his throat. Something caught his crystalline eyes. Not a form, and certainly not a shape, but something… new.

It was before his eyes, but then not. His head turned, shipping the long blonde locks hung from his head, but still the shape was not there. The Cerberus Heartless cried for a brief instant, slashing at the crying metal as so he did, but still the form could not be seen.

"Pretty cool, huh?" For what little the Chilly academic could admit, the find Xigbar had procured was, indeed, very new, and very interesting. Fast enough to escape his sights. Quick enough to avoid the rampant claws the wolf's darkened form. It certainly was something he had yet to see.

"What, pray tell, is it?' Another flash met his eyes, followed quickly by the jerk of his neck, and cry of his Heartless.

"Pretty speedy eh? Knocked him out topside by the boss's orders. Saix made good on his promise to make it Heartless for me, never was good at makin' these things." The sniper continued spoke with an air of satisfaction. The smirk on his scarred face did little to ever leave. "His partner called him Sonic, or somethin' like that." A chuckle emanated from his throat, earning a twig of curiosity from the searching Nobody.

"Care to share that humor of yours?" Their eyes met for an instant, before the sapphire blue orbs of the academic attempted to find the Heartless again. The yellow eyes of the sniper only reflected the comedy upon his face.

"Just that with a name like Sonic, you'd think he'd, ya know, dodge my shot." The chuckle grew to a laugh, and the blonde's own mouth curved to a smirk.

"True you are, but may I still see it? It's hard to catch this wicked form."

"Yeah, yeah hold on." The sniper strode forth into the room his arms raised to his waist, flexing and lazing his fingers as he moved. Then, as if preparing for a duel, his hands rose above his head, crossed at the wrists, and his one eye forward and focused on his sight. With a fluid motion, both arms fell, and his voice called with strength:

"Chill out Speedy!"

Then massless shape took form.

For all the curiosity Vexen had gained from his own Heartless, it hardly compared to the wonder he held for Xigbar's own toy.

Twin antennas, twisted and warped, protruded from the creature's forehead. No different than the weakling shadows born of the weakest of hearts. However, his eyes did not glow a complete unholy gold, but followed a path only the lost heart's eyes could see. A smile perched neatly on his face, but far different than those of the others he had seen. This was not twisted and sharpened, grown and converted, or lengthened to bare. It was a simple smirk, no different than what his own crystalline eyes saw upon the sniper day in and day out.

But those details aside, the creature appeared as though it could very well, still be alive.

Long blue quills adorned it's back, curving neatly from the back of its head, ending in points not uncommon amongst the animal kingdom. Red shoes were placed upon his feet, and despite every thought of every idea that that could have morphed them, they seemed no different than those of the cursed Key Blade Master himself. No hideous protrusions aside from two antennas could be found upon the blue figure's form, and only the simple marking of the heartless across his chest defined his path. He was far from gruesome, and strides from terrifying.

However, one detail did hinge within the doctor's mind. A simple observation that his mind did little to shake, no matter how small it seemed to be.

The rodent was in constant motion.

Though its legs no longer dashed upon the scarred metal floor, its other appendages took the chance to move instead. Its hands in a constant spin, left to right, side to side. Feet in a constant rap against the cool surface beneath it, beating a beat to no song of man. Eyes spun in the most miniscule of circles, nearly unseen by the naked eye.

It seemed that the creature of speed was, for lack of a simpler phrase, unable to stop.

"A poor case, one could say." Vexen commented through near still lips. Xigbar retorted in full.

"I'm sure there's much worse than him out there. No doubt, man. But I gotta say." He feet drew closer to the blue creature, kneeling down before him with his wicked grin drawn.

"I've got serious doubts of finding one better."

Willie roared.

-----------------------

Axel cried.

He could not remember the last he cried. Not even in the few memories he held before the life of a shell did he shed tears as he had now. Walking in black upon a land for the dead. Tears spilled from his fiery eyes, hot like the flames that burned within. Not a single muscle twitched to move away the salty liquid from his face. There was no one around to see his pain. No one around to see the Nobody, the shell of life, feel for the first time in years.

"Are you alright?"

There should have been no one there. No one… but her.

"I'm just peachy kitty-cat." He spoke with bitterness laced hard within his voice. "Why shouldn't I be in tip top shape?"

"You're crying." It wasn't an answer to his question, he knew that much. It was just an observation that he couldn't deny.

"Yeah, so what if I am?" He turned on his heel, facing the purple waist high cat. "Sometimes everyone just needs a good cry, ya know?" Yet even as he spoke, he could feel the cheeky smile he always hid behind slowly beginning to crack. Maybe this little fireball saw that too. Watching him as he walked forward, judging him through their short battle of flames. It couldn't be too hard to guess what he was doing.

"Who was she?"

But that was too good a guess.

"Who do ya mean?" The smile only continued to crack.

The feline only returned with the glow of her golden eyes. Piercing far deeper into the shell than he possibly could have enjoyed. Though there was no heart hidden within for her to search, the workings of his mind seemed to play right into the cat's fiery paws. The pain he never knew he could feel, the memories he never wished to be seen, and the love he kept far past long hidden. To him it… it… FELT like she was looking at them.

"Who was she?" The same question, but then again, it was different now too. Darker, louder, truer.

"A friend of mine you'll never meet, pussy." He wanted her mad, wanted her to lash out at him for that. Then at least she would take his eyes away from his. But still she did not.

"You loved her." Again! What was with that tone, those words, that voice. How did she know this!?

"How would you know, spoiled brat." In truth, for all he knew, she could have been tortured her entire life by those, as she called them 'cursed flames.' But now, all he had were idle threats and weak taunts to keep her will at bay.

"Because, that is… that's…" Her voice began to trail, golden irises leaving his own, and staring upon the dead earth beneath them both. But her face steeled again, eyes shut for a bit longer than a blink. They turned once more to the black cloaked shell, prepared for the words she knew would come.

"Because I recognize… I recognize the pain of love."

Axel laughed.

-----------------------

The life was near, and death not far.

He could feel the Maiden sing in his hand. Her sweet cries for the slaughter demanding and dark. His muscles did not bend nor sway to the metal words, but his mind let her speak as though she were given the right to take the lives.

It was his fault, however, the fault all his own. He HAD slain with her, he HAD taken lives with here, but ONLY he saw past that, SHE did not.

She loved the pain, loved the sorrow, loved the anger, loved the tears, loved the hate, loved the fear. The battles of war were winter days, and the shed of first blood icing on the cake.

But only he could cease her speech, and only he bear her sins. Even those she had put upon him, he would take with the fullest of regard, and keep buried deep beneath his heart. Deep within the fortress he would let not light nor shadow enter. He let his life be built this way, but even know, he had to defend this way.

And so soon too, would this battle come.

Cracking wind turned his sights, focused now upon the black outline atop the hill before him. Harsh spikes silhouetted the falling sun, hiding features of the face from his single eyes vision. But he did not speak, and he did not ask whom this life was. He had no need to. And neither did the black shadow of the sun.

Red energy, vile sickening energy, glowed within his dark hand, reaching forth towards the wielder of the maiden in an almost desperate state. The fingers flexed and bent, moving in a pattern he could not tell, and cared not to learn. But the energy he held knew the dance well, as it swirled with the curves and fold he made, fixing itself to the shape its master desired.

It soon became clear what it was meant to be. A spear, in fact. No shaft upon it to throw, and only tip atop it to pierce. But that may be all it needed to fight. He already ruled the wind, moving at a speed he could scarcely read. What more could he do to cursed life such as this?

"Before I take your life," it spoke, he spoke, with dark and empty intentions. "What name do go by. I may wish to shout it in the time of your last breath." The words were cold as ice, and darker than the shadow that he was.

"I'm hailed as Negotium, by the few who know my deeds." The creature replies, he single aqua eye never leaving the sights of the shadow. "I bear the maiden as my curse and tool. May I ask what is yours?"

"Energy of sorrow and hate, is all I possess, and all that this is." An audible clench reaches the ears of both warriors, knowing full what just what it is. "But hear my name, and cry it as you fall from this life, and disperse into the next."

The twin tipped blade aims to the right, preparing now for the battle to come. It's master falls to a crouch, his shoulder forward, and only eye aimed straight. The shadow rises, and his form given definite shape. Quills long and sharp aimed to the sky. Hands white and large, prepared to drown in blood. His scowl deep and stiff, a reflection of his own cold words. And eyes straight with hate, hate for a life he never even knew.

"I am Shadow, and you will know my pain."

Shadow jumps. Negotium scowls.

This is their Death Match.

-----------------------

Within a forest lost in time, a life weeps over dying spirits.

Within a world lost in twilight, two lives help the other.

Within a dying city, a shell hides from fallen hearts.

Within a village murdered for joy, two keys fight to banish their wicked foes.

Within a room scarred by the cries of the pained, two monsters mock one another.

Within a sky tainted by pale moonlight, a lone figure soars in sorrow.

Within a plane taken for war, a bitter shell feels his shattering heart.

Within the presence of failed love, a princess listens to a tale of woe.

Within a land forgotten to life, two monsters duel to satisfy unholy desires.

Within the eyes of a doctor's sight, four lives struggle to believe in losing war.

Within the mass of lost hearts, shells laugh in forged malice.

Within a void left to the vanished, a single warrior continues a goal he knows not of.

But within them all, they know the truth of what has come, what has been, and what has finally be given to the broken world.

The Darkness, has at last, come.

Description
Chapter 16

Pink eyes reflected red. Soft lips snarled rage. The anger in her heart was as plain as the darkness below, and they were not feelings she felt alone. Her silver mate, five long quills upon his head, felt the psyche of his mind slowly cracking beneath the weight of the crimes beneath him. Though not one among the many below, their cries were as audible and straining as if he stood not but a pace from the many. Green hues of his powerful mind began to trickle across the ends of his clenched fingers. The will to kill began to pursue him within the walls of his mind.

"Relax." The word given did not match the tone derived. Both of the angered whipped their heads to the speaker, and let not their rage be quelled. "If you allow that anger to move your heart, then are you truly any better than the monsters beneath us?" His words were given so cold, so… uncaring. But they could not be ignored. Truth laced his harsh tone, and honesty swelled through his words. If they were to give in to dark desires… then no better than the Heartless below, they would be.

Her teeth clenched, Amy Rose slowly loosened the grip upon her Pico Pico hammer. Eyes shut to hid her vision of red from the others around her, and breath deep to calm her calling dark. A hand was placed upon her shoulder, turning the young hedgehog to one who wished for her attention. Though she turned and faced, she would not allow her eyes to see.

"We can defeat them, of that I am certain." The good doctor spoke once more. "But for such to come, you must not given."

Cream continued to silently cry, grasping Tails as the last link of a dying world.

-----------------------

Six shots left.

He barreled to the left with all the might he could. A resounding crash filled the realm's silent air as the land he once stood upon was sliced and diced. The red claw rose from the shattered earth, trailing with it power unmeasured. Hideous black sparks flew from the earth below, and unholy red aura screamed from the claw itself.

A dead arm landed upon the ground, nigh a meter away. Momentum carried well, as the orange fox's good arm twisted the pistol mid-spin. His thumb drew the hammer. Finger on the trigger. Eyes down the sight.

BANG!

Five shots left.

The hot metal met feral wolf's only normal hand. Impact was instant, and result satisfying. The entire mass of the raging timber wolf cringed in pain, and howled with fearful might. A red claw grasped the bleeding appendage, hissing as the precious liquid worked its way through the deadly metal. It met the ground with dark contrast, red on black, and surrounded by green.

The fox stood his ground, pistol trained and eyes straight. Through his shattered blue frames, he aimed at creature before him. It could end now. A single blow the head, eyes hidden from his view, and defenses focused upon its own pain. He was forgotten in this moment, and he could easily end her all together.

But he would not.

Whatever the cause, and whatever the reason, he was brought here. Forced here by the man in a tunic white and armor bright. Asked to care for a life, female if the details still held through his injured body. No other was around but the one before him. But then the question still remained.

How was he to care for a life, which wished to end his own?

"P-Pardon me." The voice shook in pain. Just muttering the words caused his gun to fall off balance. He flexed, and readjusted. He'd try and reach her, to claim whatever senses of reality she still posses, but it would be done with his guard still high. "A-are you alr-r-right?" Another fall, another flex.

A low whine came from the fallen wolf, blood pooling the darkened ground beneath, just managing to catch his attention, but no more than that. His foot took a hesitant step towards his fallen foe. The oddly colored grass beneath his feet crunched as the weight was set, but nothing more than another low whine came from the bleeding wolf.

"Is… is th-there something y-y-you need?" Now his gun fell almost completely off target. A silent note was made to keep his words short, or his only defense would be lost. Yet, to his grand surprise, the wolf's cries ceased, and her form grew still. In unison, he ceased his slow march towards her.

"Hello?" His gun did not fall, and his eyes do little than stare through broken frames. That wolf of green, in an aura of red, hunched as if dead, yet still very much alive. Something dark was becoming of her, and it did little, if not nothing, to quell the pain and nervous intent of the orange fox. His head whipped slightly, removing the fallen black strands of hair from his face. His sights down the pistol, will steeled, he moved closer to her.

The grass grew thin and bare, as only the dead black land was beneath his feet. Yet not a single step taken shook the wolf from her near catatonic state.

"I-is… there anything… I-I can do?" Her head turned, and the sight bore a new hole through his mind.

Empty eyes met his own. Though and shaped, they were nothing but a hollow shell from which her bitter tears poured. Silent streams marring and wetting the fur upon her face, twisting itself within the blood from her wounds. Ears, supposed to always stand high on guard and attack, were hung low against the black mess that was her hair. White fur stained red with the same wounds as before. Wounds he had given her, and scars she would be doomed to keep. Though crystalline glasses, his eyes met the source.

A hole through her right ear.

As if the capillaries were arteries, the vile liquid poured from the wounds. Sunk low within her fur, hidden scarce upon her hair, and staining hard the lovely face it was once within.

"It hurts…" It was a hoarse whisper that met his ears, given my the pained wolf beneath him. "Why does this hurt so much?" For a moment, and nothing more, he let his eyes fall down from her face, seeing beyond her already marred face.

Beneath her chest, and even with her waist, the red claw that so nearly killed him, held her normal paw as it bled. But what kept him from rising again, from looking this wolf once more in the eyes was not the pain he had caused, nor the blood he had seen, but what ELSE came from that wound he made. Something far more vile, and far more cruel, poured from the wolf's open wound.

Gold.

She was bleeding gold.

-----------------------

"What a curious case we seem to have taken." The Nobody spoke with his head held by the chin of his own hand. A crutch to relax his head, but flex his arms in a hold. His hair flipped lightly within the wind, heavy in length, but as blonde as the blinding sun. Ocean blue eyes held before them a sight even he had yet to conjure before now. A twisted form of desire and deceit unheard of by even the mighty Organization he pledged himself to be.

A monster.

Not word to label the odd, or set apart from the norm, but a true example of a hideous beast. A creature with sights so sickening and desires so dark, it gave the Chilly Academic a rather… cold thought.

'Could I even control this beast?' His words remained unspoken as his eyes continued to bore the creature, the monster, before him.

He noted the blades in place of claws, long and sharp. They rendered and tore the metal beneath its form, letting the steel cry as it was irreparably scarred. He took care to memorize the shape and texture of the beast's teeth. Far longer than the canines of any animal, and dripping with a formless mass that even he was skeptical to relate to the darkness that had now corrupted him. He did all he could to remember the new pair of eyes bored well within the creature's heads. And he did, with the greatest of ease, be sure to remember the additional heads now placed upon the beast's torso. All three held in a line, neck to neck, and ear to ear. Yet, the academic quickly concluded, the heads were not of unison shape, and most certainly not of desire.

The one to the blonde's observed right had anatomies missing, replaced by things unethical. And ear for an eye, a horn for a tooth, even a whip for a tongue. The center of the three, and clear leader of them all, was not of misshapen identity, but of horrendous might. A muscled jaw clenched and barked at the Nobody before it, eager to devour the heartless flesh, to savor the shell as a starving man would a feast. The same yellow of eyes of hollow desire and empty will bore into the blondes own crystalline blue eyes. The rage near mirroring across the curious orbs. But then to the left, the creature's right, was a shape of most despicable form. Weak and shriveled, whimpering as if struck, it refused even the darkness to pear upon it's form. It's pathetic shape hung low and bent hard, leaving it's face to hide upon it's furred chest, cringing into it's own red emblem of the lost, the forgotten, the Heartless.

And Vexen was intrigued.

Of all the Heartless he had once before seen rise, and of all the creatures he had witnessed birthed, never before had something so… unique been formed. Splitting apart the very heart it now fed off of into three heads, three sides of the creature's will. Truly bizarre and marvelously new.

The darkness of the world's almost seemed to seep from the very orifices of this one, seeping into the clawed metal holes beneath, and vanishing ultimately from sight. A generator perhaps, a guide for the endless darkness to rule. What came to him seeped into the world, and would forever be apart of it. Then brutality would then be the center head, an unforgiving force desiring nothing but the annihilation of others. A possible method behind the madness.

But then what of the other two? Certainly the pathetic head hung low and hidden poorly was cowardice, but why such fear? Fear of the darkness? Fear of death? Fear of the end? Fear of the nothingness? Fear of the unknown? There were far too many possibilities for conjectures alone to decide. But what tests could be used on such hypotheses?

Perhaps throwing him into true darkness, abandoning him for the heads to tear at the other. Or maybe even banishment to the void. The nothingness would no doubt drive even this monstrous form insane.

"Hey Vex, how's it hangin?" The voice of his superior spoke from behind. The chilly academic spared barely a passing glance.

"I'm merely thinking of tests to further my understanding of this Heartless before me."

"That's cool. Wanna see mine? He's a real 'Speed Demon'!" An aggravated sigh left the lips of the Ice King, and his head near spun with a tight command to leave or be gone, but such threats and idle remarks died within his throat. Something caught his crystalline eyes. Not a form, and certainly not a shape, but something… new.

It was before his eyes, but then not. His head turned, shipping the long blonde locks hung from his head, but still the shape was not there. The Cerberus Heartless cried for a brief instant, slashing at the crying metal as so he did, but still the form could not be seen.

"Pretty cool, huh?" For what little the Chilly academic could admit, the find Xigbar had procured was, indeed, very new, and very interesting. Fast enough to escape his sights. Quick enough to avoid the rampant claws the wolf's darkened form. It certainly was something he had yet to see.

"What, pray tell, is it?' Another flash met his eyes, followed quickly by the jerk of his neck, and cry of his Heartless.

"Pretty speedy eh? Knocked him out topside by the boss's orders. Saix made good on his promise to make it Heartless for me, never was good at makin' these things." The sniper continued spoke with an air of satisfaction. The smirk on his scarred face did little to ever leave. "His partner called him Sonic, or somethin' like that." A chuckle emanated from his throat, earning a twig of curiosity from the searching Nobody.

"Care to share that humor of yours?" Their eyes met for an instant, before the sapphire blue orbs of the academic attempted to find the Heartless again. The yellow eyes of the sniper only reflected the comedy upon his face.

"Just that with a name like Sonic, you'd think he'd, ya know, dodge my shot." The chuckle grew to a laugh, and the blonde's own mouth curved to a smirk.

"True you are, but may I still see it? It's hard to catch this wicked form."

"Yeah, yeah hold on." The sniper strode forth into the room his arms raised to his waist, flexing and lazing his fingers as he moved. Then, as if preparing for a duel, his hands rose above his head, crossed at the wrists, and his one eye forward and focused on his sight. With a fluid motion, both arms fell, and his voice called with strength:

"Chill out Speedy!"

Then massless shape took form.

For all the curiosity Vexen had gained from his own Heartless, it hardly compared to the wonder he held for Xigbar's own toy.

Twin antennas, twisted and warped, protruded from the creature's forehead. No different than the weakling shadows born of the weakest of hearts. However, his eyes did not glow a complete unholy gold, but followed a path only the lost heart's eyes could see. A smile perched neatly on his face, but far different than those of the others he had seen. This was not twisted and sharpened, grown and converted, or lengthened to bare. It was a simple smirk, no different than what his own crystalline eyes saw upon the sniper day in and day out.

But those details aside, the creature appeared as though it could very well, still be alive.

Long blue quills adorned it's back, curving neatly from the back of its head, ending in points not uncommon amongst the animal kingdom. Red shoes were placed upon his feet, and despite every thought of every idea that that could have morphed them, they seemed no different than those of the cursed Key Blade Master himself. No hideous protrusions aside from two antennas could be found upon the blue figure's form, and only the simple marking of the heartless across his chest defined his path. He was far from gruesome, and strides from terrifying.

However, one detail did hinge within the doctor's mind. A simple observation that his mind did little to shake, no matter how small it seemed to be.

The rodent was in constant motion.

Though its legs no longer dashed upon the scarred metal floor, its other appendages took the chance to move instead. Its hands in a constant spin, left to right, side to side. Feet in a constant rap against the cool surface beneath it, beating a beat to no song of man. Eyes spun in the most miniscule of circles, nearly unseen by the naked eye.

It seemed that the creature of speed was, for lack of a simpler phrase, unable to stop.

"A poor case, one could say." Vexen commented through near still lips. Xigbar retorted in full.

"I'm sure there's much worse than him out there. No doubt, man. But I gotta say." He feet drew closer to the blue creature, kneeling down before him with his wicked grin drawn.

"I've got serious doubts of finding one better."

Willie roared.

-----------------------

Axel cried.

He could not remember the last he cried. Not even in the few memories he held before the life of a shell did he shed tears as he had now. Walking in black upon a land for the dead. Tears spilled from his fiery eyes, hot like the flames that burned within. Not a single muscle twitched to move away the salty liquid from his face. There was no one around to see his pain. No one around to see the Nobody, the shell of life, feel for the first time in years.

"Are you alright?"

There should have been no one there. No one… but her.

"I'm just peachy kitty-cat." He spoke with bitterness laced hard within his voice. "Why shouldn't I be in tip top shape?"

"You're crying." It wasn't an answer to his question, he knew that much. It was just an observation that he couldn't deny.

"Yeah, so what if I am?" He turned on his heel, facing the purple waist high cat. "Sometimes everyone just needs a good cry, ya know?" Yet even as he spoke, he could feel the cheeky smile he always hid behind slowly beginning to crack. Maybe this little fireball saw that too. Watching him as he walked forward, judging him through their short battle of flames. It couldn't be too hard to guess what he was doing.

"Who was she?"

But that was too good a guess.

"Who do ya mean?" The smile only continued to crack.

The feline only returned with the glow of her golden eyes. Piercing far deeper into the shell than he possibly could have enjoyed. Though there was no heart hidden within for her to search, the workings of his mind seemed to play right into the cat's fiery paws. The pain he never knew he could feel, the memories he never wished to be seen, and the love he kept far past long hidden. To him it… it… FELT like she was looking at them.

"Who was she?" The same question, but then again, it was different now too. Darker, louder, truer.

"A friend of mine you'll never meet, pussy." He wanted her mad, wanted her to lash out at him for that. Then at least she would take his eyes away from his. But still she did not.

"You loved her." Again! What was with that tone, those words, that voice. How did she know this!?

"How would you know, spoiled brat." In truth, for all he knew, she could have been tortured her entire life by those, as she called them 'cursed flames.' But now, all he had were idle threats and weak taunts to keep her will at bay.

"Because, that is… that's…" Her voice began to trail, golden irises leaving his own, and staring upon the dead earth beneath them both. But her face steeled again, eyes shut for a bit longer than a blink. They turned once more to the black cloaked shell, prepared for the words she knew would come.

"Because I recognize… I recognize the pain of love."

Axel laughed.

-----------------------

The life was near, and death not far.

He could feel the Maiden sing in his hand. Her sweet cries for the slaughter demanding and dark. His muscles did not bend nor sway to the metal words, but his mind let her speak as though she were given the right to take the lives.

It was his fault, however, the fault all his own. He HAD slain with her, he HAD taken lives with here, but ONLY he saw past that, SHE did not.

She loved the pain, loved the sorrow, loved the anger, loved the tears, loved the hate, loved the fear. The battles of war were winter days, and the shed of first blood icing on the cake.

But only he could cease her speech, and only he bear her sins. Even those she had put upon him, he would take with the fullest of regard, and keep buried deep beneath his heart. Deep within the fortress he would let not light nor shadow enter. He let his life be built this way, but even know, he had to defend this way.

And so soon too, would this battle come.

Cracking wind turned his sights, focused now upon the black outline atop the hill before him. Harsh spikes silhouetted the falling sun, hiding features of the face from his single eyes vision. But he did not speak, and he did not ask whom this life was. He had no need to. And neither did the black shadow of the sun.

Red energy, vile sickening energy, glowed within his dark hand, reaching forth towards the wielder of the maiden in an almost desperate state. The fingers flexed and bent, moving in a pattern he could not tell, and cared not to learn. But the energy he held knew the dance well, as it swirled with the curves and fold he made, fixing itself to the shape its master desired.

It soon became clear what it was meant to be. A spear, in fact. No shaft upon it to throw, and only tip atop it to pierce. But that may be all it needed to fight. He already ruled the wind, moving at a speed he could scarcely read. What more could he do to cursed life such as this?

"Before I take your life," it spoke, he spoke, with dark and empty intentions. "What name do go by. I may wish to shout it in the time of your last breath." The words were cold as ice, and darker than the shadow that he was.

"I'm hailed as Negotium, by the few who know my deeds." The creature replies, he single aqua eye never leaving the sights of the shadow. "I bear the maiden as my curse and tool. May I ask what is yours?"

"Energy of sorrow and hate, is all I possess, and all that this is." An audible clench reaches the ears of both warriors, knowing full what just what it is. "But hear my name, and cry it as you fall from this life, and disperse into the next."

The twin tipped blade aims to the right, preparing now for the battle to come. It's master falls to a crouch, his shoulder forward, and only eye aimed straight. The shadow rises, and his form given definite shape. Quills long and sharp aimed to the sky. Hands white and large, prepared to drown in blood. His scowl deep and stiff, a reflection of his own cold words. And eyes straight with hate, hate for a life he never even knew.

"I am Shadow, and you will know my pain."

Shadow jumps. Negotium scowls.

This is their Death Match.

-----------------------

Within a forest lost in time, a life weeps over dying spirits.

Within a world lost in twilight, two lives help the other.

Within a dying city, a shell hides from fallen hearts.

Within a village murdered for joy, two keys fight to banish their wicked foes.

Within a room scarred by the cries of the pained, two monsters mock one another.

Within a sky tainted by pale moonlight, a lone figure soars in sorrow.

Within a plane taken for war, a bitter shell feels his shattering heart.

Within the presence of failed love, a princess listens to a tale of woe.

Within a land forgotten to life, two monsters duel to satisfy unholy desires.

Within the eyes of a doctor's sight, four lives struggle to believe in losing war.

Within the mass of lost hearts, shells laugh in forged malice.

Within a void left to the vanished, a single warrior continues a goal he knows not of.

But within them all, they know the truth of what has come, what has been, and what has finally be given to the broken world.

The Darkness, has at last, come.