To Take & To Give

A reckoning is almost upon us

Xehanort had lived his life to what he imagined to be the fullest. Never compromising what he believed in. Never surrendering to anything that would sunder his spirit. Xehanort had kept faithful to the beliefs and creed that had governed his life since he first took that step into the unknown. He had never kowtowed, never bowed down, never bent the knee to anyone or anything. He had his weaknesses. He had his faults much like any normal, foolish being of flesh. That was man’s true flaw, the fact that it had flaws to begin with. It’s compromised nature always ensured defeat even when all the signs of victory pointed towards it. Always a failing to cripple its hands before it can reach paradise.

The worlds were cruel for gifting them with so much sight, so much potential before stripping them of the right to enjoy their labors.

There were powers who wished to be beyond their comprehension. Eldritch things that shaped the clay of reality, enforced the laws that governed all living things. These powers, these great reservoirs of knowledge and strength, they all held the potential to change the world with a mere flicker of a finger. They would gift the worthy with powers beyond all normal comprehension. Those who took that power could do many things. They could choose to make their worlds for the betterment of all. They could choose to destroy and wreak havoc with the established order. They could choose so many things. Freedom only came with power. The freedom to choose anything, the freedom to be anything they want to be.

Was that not a noble goal?

This world, this palace of technology and lights. It would sail among the seas of stars, following its intended purpose to promote peace among them. An armament of peace through the force of judiciary ideologies, crafted by hearts no better than would be instructors of a life he’d yet to live. These were the foundations of the world he found himself standing in, the backbone of its denizens, past, present and future. Here ingrained the triumphs of civilizations that had come and will come together. Here would he set the bones of this world, right underneath his feet. A frail creation, this ship. Deigned superior by those whom harbored themselves behind its walls, yet nothing more than an ark waiting to be claimed by the depths over which it sailed.

What would happen if it all went crashing down? What would happen to a world that has lost its heart?

Xehanort would entertain the notion of reducing this world back to darkness. All worlds came from darkness. Light was not born if it did not have darkness to necessitate its birth. Would this world come back exactly the same? Would the stars re-align and return this world hale and hearty, bring it back from darkness to fill a hole it had once occupied? Or will it be reduced to nothing? Crumble back into the abyss, never to emerge, taking all that light with it? Who would win in the battle for life itself? Would the darkness keep what it had sowed or would the light return it back to how it used to be? A mere ship, not a world- filled with hearts could never hope for such a future.

These were questions of importance but they could wait. Xehanort sighed lowly and deeply, feeling once more the weight of time on his shoulders. Onyx boots crossed over the forms of the commanders to this palace of the stars. Xehanort paid them little mind as their forms were slowly taken by the black inky pools that had formed beneath them. There was so much left to do, so much left to see and explore, so much to conquer! Yet as always, even within the assurance of his grasp, time stood to confront him at every turn. What frontiers had he not assailed yet? What new boundaries had he not broken before? There was no satisfaction in knowing that all Xehanort had done with his life would amount to nothing once the final whisper had left his breath.

The power of reality, the power of the heart of all worlds, they were his to take and no one else’s.

”This is what you could never understand, Eraqus. A quiet life was never meant for me.”

Xehanort’s eyes were drawn to the master control console, the illumination of multi-colored artificial lights reaching across his face under a darkened hood. A few keystrokes here, a few more there, and within a matter of moments the Seeker was passed security protocols. A few electronic switches flipped, and soon an automated female toned voice sprang to life over the ship’s intercoms. CREW ADVISORY: WARNING! WARNING! UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS! PRISONER CONTAINMENT FAILURES ON BLOCKS… The voice would continue onward to list every possible breach within the mega prison, while gloved hands worked more keystrokes. DANGER! NAVIGATION SYSTEMS- ERROR! IMMINENT CRASH COURSE PROJ-ERROR! DANGER! REACTOR HAS BEEN SET TO CRITICAL! IMMINENT MELTDOWN WILL OCCUR IN-ERROR! The faulty warning messages would continue to belt out through the Federation’s flagship as the prisoners began an attempted mutiny, before riots began to break out as several hundred selfish hearts all desired an escape on the Flight Deck.

Xehanort watched with a calculative observation between the digital feeds among the translucent screens. With every moment that passed, between a reactor going critical, a charted crash course deigned for a world known only from Braig’s reports as Eos, there was much to take in- as darkness found its way out of each prisoner’s heart. For every selfish act committed, he bore witness to the inevitable truth that his future most self had assured stood older than time itself. Darkness was the very nature of all things, and its rise was always guaranteed whenever light gave way. All hearts returned to it, evidenced by each heinous and violent act committed within the halls of this battleship. What would Yen Sid, Eraqus, or any of those whom followed blindly their word within their chains, think about any of this? Would they seek to save these wretched hearts, these doomed souls? The world that would be consumed by this ship’s destruction? Which among the two would be spared, and the other perish? Would they be able to accept the inevitable truth even then- in the moment failure gripped their hearts?

A sneer crept upon Xehanort’s lips. He already knew the answers to those questions. He had known of their weakness, the rot of all Keyblade Wielders unable to appreciate the power they held. Chained down by an obsolete morality, did it surprise them that they would be caught by surprise once he turned his attention to their annihilation? Their powers, the great potential they had held, all wasted on keeping the order of the worlds, never questioning the flaws within that order. They were far more chained than the creatures they chose to serve.

He would never bow like that. Never.

Xehanort closed his eyes. Old wounds never made for good reminiscing. The ghosts of the future-now-past, the ghosts of what he had done- what he would come to do, he had taught himself again and again to never dwell on them unless there was something new to be gleaned. All he reminded himself was that he could never go back. There was nothing left for him to go but forward.

Eyes open. Never regret.

The world was his to take.

Routes to the bridge have been sealed off! Stop the riots by defeating the three ringleaders! Stabilize the reactor!
@dungeon @stitch Prompto Argentum Ravus Nox Fleuret Lunafreya Nox Fleuret
Oppose or aid the heroes!
@xemnas Fear