In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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Walking along Market Street's alleys Oswald was thinking about all that had happened within two months. Glad to see that the whole heartless situation has started calming down since then though. Finally coming upon Marm's house, the toon went up to the door and knocked on it to enter. "Hey Marmadue, you home?"
Days, when spent indoors, tended to be very quiet for Marmadue – if one could call any time in Twilight Town as day, considering it's permanent darkness and nighttime. Still, there was a time when people were up and about, and a time when people rested. This was the former. Despite his humble abode working as something of a makeshift hospital, his treatments were quite fast thanks to their magical nature, letting people be up and about rather quickly. And while he also allowed anyone without a place to stay, well, stay, often such services were more necessary for sleeping. Something no one was currently doing.
And that made things quiet, inside. Just the Yuke, alone. A lot of the busywork of preparing for battle and dealing with the immediate aftereffects of a Heartless attack were done. It was… Surprisingly calm. A needed respite, perhaps, a moment to rest. There still were some things on Marmadue's mind, but where to even start…
A thing to ponder about as he leaned over the counter, in thought. Not in very deep thought, a knock from the door easily catching his attention. Not wasting any time, the Yuke stood up and walked across the room to see who it might have been – though the voice calling out to him revealed that before he even saw the rabbit. "Ah, Mister Oswald," he greeted his guest as he opened the door wide enough to invite Oswald inside if he so wished, "Is something ah, the matter? An injury, perhaps?"
Taking care of injuries was his job, after all. The reason many sought him out. But Oswald didn't seem to be any worse for wear…
