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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“Enough,” Malakai said sharply, his voice authoritative, his posture rigid and straight. His arms were folded over his chest.
He listened. Listened for a good while as they spoke amongst themselves. The girl Zephyr, although a bit aggressive with her views, did present a fair few points and he was about to reply to her when the boy, Yoru his name appeared to be, jumped in. It all went downhill quickly from there.
Not agreeing with the girl’s opinion he could understand, but at this point it seemed like a fight was coming. He would not allow that.
He didn’t realize it, but his expression became hard – almost glaring. Slowly, he let his look soften.
“Weapons away, please,” he said, looking at them all in turn. “No one is killing anyone. Least of all here. As Naminé said – and I rightly agree – this is not about killing It is about saving.
“All of you, let Miss Zephyr be. I will not tolerate bullying. And besides, she is in the right to question what I said. I, after all, left the floor open to such – and I hope my answers will suffice. The main issue of concern here seems to be that of the compensation mentioned in the flyer. Do not worry, I do intend on compensating those who help out for their services. Such contracts will be decided upon when the time comes. But rest assured, for those who desire it you will receive payment.
“As for jobs aside from fighting –” at this point his gaze turned to Jim, “the Worlds need more than fighters to help out. In the wake of battle there is destruction. That too I would like to set right. Mechanics, masons, anyone who can help those afflicted rebuild is just as valuable as those who can fight. Besides, if you know anyone good with ships, I’d like to meet them. I do wish to get a – what is it? – a Gummi Ship in the future.
“What else was there? Oh yes… another good question: do I even know what I am doing?” finally he turned to Zephyr, fixing her with a determined glance. “No. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I’m up against. I don’t know for sure. I intend to learn, though. Slowly, carefully. Besides, can anyone here say they know completely what we’re up against? What lurks in the Dark?” For the briefest moment his one good eye flicked to Naminé – it felt like she knew something more but he would not press – and then looked back to Zephyr. “We’re all in the same boat. We’re all at risk. Like everyone else in the Worlds. Someone needs to take a stand. More people need to take a stand. And if anyone here works for the Darkness?” Malakai’s look then darkened, his eye sweeping over the group. “If anyone here wants to stop us” – the floor trembled slightly, the earth beneath it quaking – “they are welcomed to try. I’m not afraid.”
However deep down he was. The Darkness terrified him and if these children went with him? He’d be afraid for them as well. Still, it was something that needed to be done. Whether he did with a team, or alone.
Once more his expression softened and he regarded the group warmly once more. “I do hope that addressed most of your concerns?”
It amused Zephyr to see everyone get all worked up when she had done nothing more than raise a few concerns. Though, why it seemed most of their ire was directed at her was beyond the Aeristocrat, when it was Yuro who first introduced the idea of backstabbing and slaughter. He was the one that expected payment; she simply wanted to know the means of it.
Even so, she let them have their moments, holding her tongue despite her desire to snap back, though there was much scoffing and crossing of arms when everyone decided to gang up and reprimand her for voicing legitimate points.
It wasn't until Naminé spoke up that her attitude changed. Speaking of a boy who saved the world, but in order to do so had to give up every memory he had. The mere idea of it had Zephyr's heart aching. Her terse posture relaxed, her eyes averting to the blurred white box that held her soup. To lose one's memories, to be forgotten by everyone they knew…. Zephyr couldn't imagine it. If she had lost Jispo, at least she remembered him. To think that she could forget him, that he could forget her…. She held her lip in her teeth, contemplating. It was unbearable.
No, she would not leave. Though the air she had put on suggested otherwise, Zephyr still had some vested interest in this group. They would need a blacksmith if repairs were needed to be done, and whatever Malakai had planned to provide aid in this supposed war of light and dark, Zephyr knew she could hold her own in a fight. As a matter of fact, her eyes glittered at the prospect of it.
And while Malakai admitted that he indeed had no idea what he was doing (Zephyr could not resist the smirk at his admittance), his intentions were good and pure; Zephyr was not blind enough to miss that. Neither could she deny that being subjected to the unknown excited her. Her head turned towards the others, to the purists, the nervous, the tentatives, before she slouched in her chair and tossed a lazy gaze in Malakai's direction.
The petite blonde girl once again hiding in her chair looked around. The tension was dying- people were in, but people were also surely out. He didn't know what he was doing. But in reality, did anybody? Did anybody understand the Heart and how it worked? Those darkenes Hearts flowing free of their bodies, ravaging the Worlds...
She remembered all the time she spent in her white room, the closest thing she'd had to a home. DiZ spent every hour of every day in the basement studying the Heartless and Nobodies, studying for the exact moment this happened- he must've known the whole time that his apprentice would live on even if Sora destroyed them. Perhaps that's why he died to Kingdom Hearts. Despite the fact that she was the closest thing to a prisoner there, he had prepared her for this. He knew about the Darkness that they were fighting, and now she did as well.
But she couldn't tell them what she knew. They wouldn't view her as anything more than a fragile little girl. That, or they would distrust her. After all, she wasn't Light. She was Nothing, and that's it. Non-existent. It was hard- how could she explain to them the Worlds and what danger they faced as a mere teenager, specifically one with no skills. She couldn't show them her weapon- it would only create more problems. To realize that no matter what, the Heartless wouldn't stop without a Keyblade to end them.
In a world overcome by despair, hope was the only thing to keep them going. And if Namine took that, what would they have? Only fear and bitterness at the unfairness of it all.
She rose a hand, the other one gripping her sketchbook to her chest. Her gaze was on Mal, the leader of this dynamic gathering. She reddened a bit, thinking of others' gazes. "How many of us... can defend ourselves?"
Words: 0000 | Temporary Post Fix- Will be Removed after custom is made