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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Of all of Twilight Town, the tunnels seem to have changed the least. Lea's jade eyes slipped from one hall to the other as he stepped inside, examining the halls. The numbers on the walls, the lights: these halls were familiar to him. Axel had to carry out several missions in Twilight Town's underbelly. And traveling back here, when the world outside had changed so much, really did make this place feel like he'd stepped backward in time.
Deeper in, the light that hung just above the entrance to a large room, flickered. The power to the room and for a stretch beyond looked to have died: it was dark inside. Peering in, Lea turned his attention back to Lorena. There was something in his eyes: a sort of lion's pride, and a snap of his fingers brought a spire of flame into his palm. He wasn't really flirting with her, although it could be easily seen that way. He just liked being able to be useful, and at least this was mildly so.
The light from the fire revealed that the room had some debris: misplaced bricks, a damaged support pillar, but other than that it seemed good enough. If they'd ventured further down the hall, at some point the lights would come back on, it was just that there was a dark stretch. Perhaps the Moogles could to something to help permanently light that stretch if they decided to move in? That detail was still up in the air.
