Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He doesn’t know why he’s here.

Well, he does: it’s to find a thirteenth vessel for Master Xehanort. (Himself? It doesn’t seem quite right at times – nonetheless, he obeys.) No, what he doesn’t know is why he’s here in particular. An empty world (not like The World That Never Was, and not like the Keyblade Graveyard either, but empty regardless), far off the beaten path, silent but for the wind and the rustling of grass. Not quite as empty as the surroundings of Castle Oblivion, but close enough. To tell the truth, it doesn’t seem like the kind of place he’s likely to find what he’s (supposed to be) looking for.

There’s a part of him that thinks he just wants to get as far away from the others as possible, though he shies away from the idea as traitorous. Xemnas is nothing if not loyal, down to his bones. (But if he were ever asked who he was loyal to, he’d have no satisfactory answer. He keeps that to himself, too, and avoids the thought as much as possible.)

Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted as he senses something that gives him pause. An empty void, a hole within the fabric of the light of this realm. Not a Nobody, no. Something emptier still.

Perhaps he had come here for his stated reason, after all.

He looks around, trying to spot the source of the emptiness. When he does, it gives him pause. It is… very small. A figure in a tattered grey cloak stands on a fallen tree trunk, its disproportionately large, white head staring at him with dark, empty eyeholes. It’s not what he’s been sent to look for, not really, but… it will have to do. If Xehanort chooses to discard it, that’s his choice. Xemnas can safely say he’s done his part.

He approaches it without fear. What could a little thing like this do to him, anyway? Even more so for its emptiness, for he is secure in his command of his element. It does nothing as he steps up to it, merely continues staring. And then, in a smooth, deliberate movement, it reaches into its cloak and pulls out a hilt, holding it high. He senses a gathering power – light? A blade lights up, and is immediately swung-

-He staggers, grasping at his chest. Something inside him is in disarray. He is- Who is he-? Why-? Is he…?

The empty shell climbs to its feet – he hadn’t even noticed it collapsing in the first place. It’s still empty. Empty. Full of nothing. And within that nothing, he can feel-

Annoyance. Not a strong emotion by any means, but within nothingness even a minor emotion is amplified, grown more meaningful. It… echoes, in a way.

Before he’s able to make sense of any of it, before he can even move, the shell hits him once again with its glowing blade.

He blinks groggily at the sky. What happened? Terra was just… he was…

The memories return all at once, making him rush to his feet. Aqua-! Ven-! He has to find them. He has to find them at once! He’s just about to open a dark corridor – he doesn’t even know where to – when he’s stopped in his tracks by… not a voice, but words formed from a lack of one.

“Rush not.” Meaning he feels through his connection to nothingness. A moment of uncertainty: is he Xemnas, or is he Terra? Solved almost as soon as it’s thought: he is Terra. That doesn’t mean he can’t also be Xemnas. He turns to the empty shell to find it staring at him. As soon as he does, it elaborates, “Rush not. Rush, get hurt. Get hurt, break shell. Break shell, start over. Waste time.”

Terra takes a deep breath and considers the advice given. It resonates with lived experience, and moreover, sounds like something he, too, should have learned by now. He nods to the shell – the being – to show his gratefulness. “You’re right. Thank you, I wasn’t thinking just now…” he trails off, unsure of how to address the being. “If I may ask, who are you?”

It answers him readily enough, “Vessel. Knight. No name. Call what like.” A sense of fondness for nicknames given, more so for the givers than the names themselves.

Terra finds himself shuddering involuntarily. The word ‘vessel’ holds… bad connotations, now. “Knight, then, if it’s all right with you?” It is, the Knight radiating calm acceptance. “All right,” he continues, thinking even while he’s feeling like he should be acting instead, “I shouldn’t rush, but I need to find my friends. They’re… they’re in trouble.” He’s certain of it, feeling it deep in his incomplete heart even as his mind struggles to get up to date.

Something like a hum within the nothingness, followed by a question, “Have map? Know where going?”

“I…” He doesn’t. Giving it a moment of thought, he has been looking, hasn’t he? Xemnas. For a decade. Ventus, hidden somewhere within Castle Oblivion (The Land of Departure, and he’s horrified to finally put those pieces together), who he’d tried so hard to reach. Thank goodness he hadn’t succeeded, he knows what Xehanort would have done to him if he had. And Aqua, lost, he suspects with a sinking feeling, in the Realm of Darkness. Looking for her with nothing to aim him within the realm is more likely to get him as lost as her than be of any help. He takes a deep breath, holds it for several seconds, and finally admits, “No. Not really. But what do I do, then?”

The answer is prompt, and stated without any doubt: “What you can.”

A simple answer. Some might even call it an obvious one. Still, it’s good for aiming Terra’s restless mind. Castle Oblivion is clearly Aqua’s doing – therefore, she must be found first before getting Ven is possible. But he can’t just go diving into the Dark Realm without a plan, that’ll do no good for anyone. Furthermore, it’s likely Xehanort’s opposition is also seeking her – seeking them out. Maybe they have a better chance of reaching her. Proper means, an actual plan. He hopes they do.

As he thinks about it he suddenly has a realisation that almost takes his breath away. He has been so focused on Terra’s friends, he’s forgotten what he’s responsible for as Xemnas. The Organization… his Organization, not Xehanort’s. He had no right to call himself their leader. He had harmed them, and none more so than Isa. “Isa – he’s still Xehanort’s vessel. I have to- I have to do something about it.” Isa’s fate is his fault, for all that he wasn’t entirely in control at the time. But what should he do? What can he do? “But… I can’t go back there. He’ll just turn me into his vessel again if I try.” He’s not strong enough to resist, incomplete as he is.

The Knight disagrees. “Vessel still. Cold dark inside. False dark. Illusion.” And as Terra looks deeper into himself… he finds that’s true, on some level. Xemnas gazes into the darkness and the nothingness, and understands the gift he’s been given.

“I see.” Somehow, it’s easier to plan with the slower, more measured thought patterns of Xemnas. He thinks he’s starting to catch onto something, yet a more important thought rises. A very Terra thought at that. “I’m sorry, I didn’t thank you for freeing me. Thank you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I owe you for this, more than I can say.” A sense the Knight cares little for debts, yet accepts his thanks. With that out of the way, he turns back to the problem at hand. “I suppose I should go back for Isa, then.” Even if he doesn’t know how to help him.

His new companion seems to sense his uncertainty, asking, “Need friend? Need help?” Then, almost as a correction, “ Want help?”

“I… wouldn’t say no to help.” Simply knowing he wasn’t alone would be a big improvement. “Still, if I were to bring you with me, Xehanort is sure to try and make you his vessel.” Terra would never bring that fate down on anyone, no matter what.

“Let him try.” Terra blinks, taken aback by the Knight’s certainty in its… immunity, or something along those lines. There’s something here he’s missing, he’s sure of it, but what? He stares at it, hoping to uncover its secret, and gradually begins to notice something very, very important about its nature.

It is empty, yes – but a kind of empty that is both very easy and very, very dangerous to underestimate. Because within the Knight’s tiny figure lies an emptiness so deep, so thorough, it loops right back into a fullness. A void so deep it could devour everything, light and darkness alike, and there’d be little hope of stopping it. A nothingness so complete he hadn’t been able to imagine it, held within a deceptively small and fragile shell.

It stares up at him, and understands what he’s seeing. “Shell small. Shell weak. Shell limit.”

He swallows, his throat suddenly dry, and whispers, “You are far more the ruler of nothingness than I ever was.” Xemnas had been so certain of his superiority… which was such a Xehanort trait, now that he thinks of it. It gives him hope, unexpectedly. If Xemnas could be so wrong on something so fundamental to his being, what hope did Xehanort have of knowing everything relevant to his plans? “If you wanted to, you could lay claim to anything you wish.”

It agrees. It could. It just doesn’t want to. “It chooses this. It chooses shell. It chooses Knight.”

Terra… understands. If he could claim all the power in the worlds, even the worlds themselves, he would still rather just stay a simple Keyblade wielder. His greatest wish now is the safety of his friends, but the very next one is to get to be himself. “I’m sure we’re all very grateful for that.” He’s already certain he doesn’t want it as his enemy. “Still, Knight – why do you wish to help me?” A moment’s realisation of how that might have come across, and he hastens to add, “I mean, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to, I’m just wondering.”

A strange undercurrent stirs within the void. There’s almost a sense of malice there, thankfully not aimed at him. “Bright dream god, pale light god, dark cold god. All same. Hurt bug, hurt not-bug, care not.”

Terra really doesn’t think Xehanort is a god, but suspects that’s not what the Knight means in the first place. Clearly, there’s a history there. “Is that what all gods are like?”

It takes a moment to respond. “Not all. Gods and gods.” First thought with venom, second with ambivalence. A confused, mixed muddle of feelings. A sense of fondness and respect.

“I see.” And he does. “Maybe we’re not so different, after all.” It’s funny, in a sense. Physically, they couldn’t be more mismatched, but what drives them is, apparently, something very similar. And maybe that’s not so surprising. Terra has envisioned being a Keyblade Master as something very similar to being a knight from an early age, after all. It’s what he’d always striven for, before things went so wrong. Maybe he still can.

The Knight stares at him, completely still and expressionless, but the void within it speaks. “Friend.” It is… a simple thought, and all the more surprising for that. Still, nothing more is needed. They… understand each other.

He inclines his head. “I would be honoured to call you my friend.” Xemnas raises his head to look at the void contained within the shell. “Then, if you have nothing else you need to do first?” It does not. Anything else it could be doing can be saved for later. “We should be off,” his lips quirk up humourlessly, “before Xehanort finds someone else to turn into his vessel.” It agrees. Much cleaner not to have to worry about yet another vessel.

Xemnas opens a dark corridor – to return to where he’d come from, this time of his own volition. The Knight walks right by his side, not hesitating for even a moment.

They’re on a mission.

Chapter Text

His return is simple. He presents his find – a perfectly empty vessel – to Xehanort, who doesn’t look best pleased by its size, but accepts it nonetheless. The old master places a piece of his heart in the Knight, who stands completely still and passive during the procedure. To Xemnas, there is no difference. The heart sinks into the unchanging, bottomless void, leaving behind no trace. Yet, Xehanort suspects nothing. Not of the Knight, and not of Xemnas.

Xemnas resolves never to give him any reason to. Not until it’s too late for him to do anything about it.

It is no great surprise when the old master then gathers their full numbers, to show and to celebrate that they’ve indeed managed to accomplish this feat. Some celebration. They all get to sit in a ring and listen to the old man monologue. It would be of more interest to Xemnas had he not already heard it all before. As it is, he gets more out of using this time to think and to plan rather than paying more than the bare minimum of attention to what Xehanort is rambling about at any given moment. It’s fine: unlike Terra, Xemnas hasn’t actually looked attentive even once in his life. No matter how attentive he’d actually been.

He surreptitiously watches the others around himself as he considers his next move. How many of his fellow Darknesses are like him? Like Isa? Here against their will, most likely ready to join him if freed from Xehanort’s control? Not many, he thinks. The full Xehanorts – the Heartless and the time traveller – are right out. They have more motivation than anyone else to stick with the old man. (His heart calls to him, but he resists. He can’t tip his hand, not yet, but he promises to reclaim it as soon as he can.) As for the others… they’re more like Xigbar than Isa. Fully conscious and retaining their personalities (as far as he can tell, not having known them before), even if they’ve ceded some control to their master. He can’t know for certain but suspects it a sign of willing possession. So, not many allies at all.

Then again, with the Knight by his side, how many others does he need? Seven Lights, with him, the Knight and likely Isa… evens the numbers quite nicely. And, not to put too fine a print on it, but he thinks his side’s got the advantage in quality. Still, he acknowledges he’s biased and should know better than to underestimate Xehanort, no matter how much weaker than him most of his vessels are.

He finds his gaze drawn to Isa’s blank face and still form. In some ways, he’s now far more an empty shell than the Knight. It’s not the void that is filling him, just… nothing. At least Xemnas had still been – something, even if he hadn’t been free. And now he is. Free, and able to do something about all of this. About Isa. Empty shell or not, he is still in it. Just trapped. Unable to make his voice heard. Xemnas can’t wait to fix this – but he has to, at least for the length of this gathering.

The meeting goes on for what feels like an interminable amount of time, but at last Xehanort calls an end to it. Xemnas returns to his quarters without a backwards glance. He needs to reconvene with the Knight, to figure out where to start, but he can’t break character in front of the others. Xemnas’s apathy will be his greatest shield against suspicions they can ill afford. Will his new ally know where he has gone, though? He tries to sense the nothingness in this world and finds the answer to be ‘most likely yes’. It should have a sense for the void similar to his, after all, and he can find its approximate position now that he knows what to look for.

Terra would be trembling with impatience and the need to act, but Xemnas sits still and thinks and waits. He is both himself and secure in the knowledge that he is, regardless of which name he uses, which attitude is at the forefront. It’ll be something to look forward to, to truly be Terra again. Same as reuniting with his friends, of reclaiming his heart, of freeing Isa, of making amends. Of ensuring Xehanort won’t ever hurt any of them, or anyone else for that matter, ever again. But to get there, to accomplish any of those things, they’ll have to play their cards carefully. He’s amused by that thought – he must have picked up that particular metaphor from Luxord. He hopes that whoever he is now, he’s alright. He, and everyone else Xemnas knows nothing of the current whereabouts of.

He’s broken out of his thoughts by the feeling of deeper void right outside. He almost smiles – a very Xemnas expression. Looks like it found him just fine. He gets up just as the door opens, and blinks when he sees who enters. The Knight isn’t alone – and that’s Isa with it, not Saïx. Obvious in the widening of his eyes, in the consciousness therein. He might be trying to hide it, but he can’t quite stop the surprised – fearful, really – reaction he has to being face to face with Xemnas. Well now. Looks like they’ve already progressed far further than Xemnas had thought. They still have to get Isa on the same page, however, and he suspects that’s going to take rather more time and, on his part at least, effort.

Best get to it, then.