07-09-2015, 08:59 PM
Mickey stared at Xehanort. Something about him struck the mouse as terrifyingly familiar.
Silence filled the air between them as the grey-haired boy’s smirk grew on his face. The mouse supposed that thus far, he had no reason to distrust the black-robed figure, but he couldn’t help it. Call it animal instinct, perhaps, but deep inside his little bones, something about this whole situation struck the mouse as very, very wrong.
“I suppose that’s not enough,” Xehanort straightened up, taking a few steps toward the mouse, “My name, that is. There’s no reason for you to take me sharing my name as any sign of goodwill, especially not… here.” The King narrowed his eyes. “My name is Xehanort,” he repeated, “and I am a secondary. Let’s get that out there, first. I’m not a prime, like you.” Mickey felt his grip on his keyblade instinctively loosen; as far as he knew, secondaries were nowhere near as dangerous as other primes. “I am, however, like you in a sense,” the boy continued, squatting down to be at eye level with Mickey, “…I’m from your world.”
The mouse doubled back a few more steps. This boy would not get too close to him. “You’re from the Disney Realms?”
Xehanort laughed, looking off to the side and shaking his head. “You know, for a King, you know very little about your kingdom,” he said, and Mickey shot him a violent glare. The mouse did not appreciate the man’s snark. “There’s so much more to your kingdom than the talking animals and fairytale princesses you rule over, King Mickey.”
Mickey’s brow furrowed. His frustration was apparent.
“Allow me to explain it to you, if you will?”
“A king does not need his subject to explain his kingdom to him,” Mickey spat. Xehanort simply smiled, seemingly not moved by the mouse’s hostility in the slightest.
“Oh, but King Mickey,” the silver-haired boy cocked his head to one side, “I am not your subject. Like I said, you rule over such a limited part of our universe—talking beasts, dainty princesses, a few outlandish worlds that have little to do with the rest. Hell, one of the worlds you count as part of your kingdom is the stomach of a whale. But farther off than that—farther than you have ever reached in your gummi ships—are worlds of a far different color, with much different people, and limits. Worlds you have yet to master.
“It is in these worlds,” Xehanort explained, “that the Heartless first took root.”
The Heartless. Mickey’s mind had not dwelled on those creatures since… well, he could not really remember. Dante’s Abyss and the various other events of his brief stay in the Omniverse had… distracted him. All of a sudden, the worry he felt for his world in his absence—and now, it seemed, Minnie’s—began to wash over him once again.
“Now, there’s something that ties us all together,” Xehanort pressed on in his monologue, despite Mickey’s unchanging expression. If nothing else, Dante’s Abyss had helped the mouse learned how to stay his ground. Xehanort’s smile grew further, this time expanding so far across his face that the mouse thought it might burst forth from his countenance. What in the world did he have in store?
“What?” the mouse pushed, “What ties us all together?”
Xehanort chuckled. “Oh, now he’s interested.”
“Tell me,” Mickey growled, unsheathing Star Seeker and aiming it at Xehanort. The man did not move; the mouse’s threats did not faze him whatsoever.
“Kingdom Hearts, of course.”
The words sounded all too familiar as they left Xehanort’s lips, but Mickey still could not place them. Why did they sound like something he should know? He felt like the term should conjure up an immediate image, but he had no image to match the feeling the phrase evoked.
He was afraid to ask the question. “…what is that?” he finally relented after a moment’s hesitation, slowly dropping Star Seeker to the ground. No matter how much he tried, the very mention of Kingdom Hearts somehow eased any doubts he had about Xehanort’s trustworthiness, though he had no idea what they were.
“Why, the life-force of our world, Your Majesty,” Xehanort grinned.
The mouse’s eyes widened as memories flushed through him. He saw a giant, blue moon, but it was not shaped like your everyday moon—no, rather, this moon took the shape of a heart, and glowed brighter than any star the King had ever seen grace the night sky. The mouse lifted his hand, and without warning, a yellow aura similar to the energy he had released during Dante’s Abyss enveloped it, humming lowly. Somehow, Kingdom Hearts had to be connected to the energies he had been able to control during the games, but…how?
“And the best part, King Mickey,” the silver-haired boy smiled, “is that I have created it here.”
Mickey did not hesitate.
“Show me.”
Silence filled the air between them as the grey-haired boy’s smirk grew on his face. The mouse supposed that thus far, he had no reason to distrust the black-robed figure, but he couldn’t help it. Call it animal instinct, perhaps, but deep inside his little bones, something about this whole situation struck the mouse as very, very wrong.
“I suppose that’s not enough,” Xehanort straightened up, taking a few steps toward the mouse, “My name, that is. There’s no reason for you to take me sharing my name as any sign of goodwill, especially not… here.” The King narrowed his eyes. “My name is Xehanort,” he repeated, “and I am a secondary. Let’s get that out there, first. I’m not a prime, like you.” Mickey felt his grip on his keyblade instinctively loosen; as far as he knew, secondaries were nowhere near as dangerous as other primes. “I am, however, like you in a sense,” the boy continued, squatting down to be at eye level with Mickey, “…I’m from your world.”
The mouse doubled back a few more steps. This boy would not get too close to him. “You’re from the Disney Realms?”
Xehanort laughed, looking off to the side and shaking his head. “You know, for a King, you know very little about your kingdom,” he said, and Mickey shot him a violent glare. The mouse did not appreciate the man’s snark. “There’s so much more to your kingdom than the talking animals and fairytale princesses you rule over, King Mickey.”
Mickey’s brow furrowed. His frustration was apparent.
“Allow me to explain it to you, if you will?”
“A king does not need his subject to explain his kingdom to him,” Mickey spat. Xehanort simply smiled, seemingly not moved by the mouse’s hostility in the slightest.
“Oh, but King Mickey,” the silver-haired boy cocked his head to one side, “I am not your subject. Like I said, you rule over such a limited part of our universe—talking beasts, dainty princesses, a few outlandish worlds that have little to do with the rest. Hell, one of the worlds you count as part of your kingdom is the stomach of a whale. But farther off than that—farther than you have ever reached in your gummi ships—are worlds of a far different color, with much different people, and limits. Worlds you have yet to master.
“It is in these worlds,” Xehanort explained, “that the Heartless first took root.”
The Heartless. Mickey’s mind had not dwelled on those creatures since… well, he could not really remember. Dante’s Abyss and the various other events of his brief stay in the Omniverse had… distracted him. All of a sudden, the worry he felt for his world in his absence—and now, it seemed, Minnie’s—began to wash over him once again.
“Now, there’s something that ties us all together,” Xehanort pressed on in his monologue, despite Mickey’s unchanging expression. If nothing else, Dante’s Abyss had helped the mouse learned how to stay his ground. Xehanort’s smile grew further, this time expanding so far across his face that the mouse thought it might burst forth from his countenance. What in the world did he have in store?
“What?” the mouse pushed, “What ties us all together?”
Xehanort chuckled. “Oh, now he’s interested.”
“Tell me,” Mickey growled, unsheathing Star Seeker and aiming it at Xehanort. The man did not move; the mouse’s threats did not faze him whatsoever.
“Kingdom Hearts, of course.”
The words sounded all too familiar as they left Xehanort’s lips, but Mickey still could not place them. Why did they sound like something he should know? He felt like the term should conjure up an immediate image, but he had no image to match the feeling the phrase evoked.
He was afraid to ask the question. “…what is that?” he finally relented after a moment’s hesitation, slowly dropping Star Seeker to the ground. No matter how much he tried, the very mention of Kingdom Hearts somehow eased any doubts he had about Xehanort’s trustworthiness, though he had no idea what they were.
“Why, the life-force of our world, Your Majesty,” Xehanort grinned.
The mouse’s eyes widened as memories flushed through him. He saw a giant, blue moon, but it was not shaped like your everyday moon—no, rather, this moon took the shape of a heart, and glowed brighter than any star the King had ever seen grace the night sky. The mouse lifted his hand, and without warning, a yellow aura similar to the energy he had released during Dante’s Abyss enveloped it, humming lowly. Somehow, Kingdom Hearts had to be connected to the energies he had been able to control during the games, but…how?
“And the best part, King Mickey,” the silver-haired boy smiled, “is that I have created it here.”
Mickey did not hesitate.
“Show me.”
![[Image: 2agonyw.png]](http://i68.tinypic.com/2agonyw.png)