Kingdom Hearts Birth By Sleep Path to Darkness

by MickeyTheQuestMouse

Summary:

Kingdom Hearts Birth By Sleep: Path to Darkness follows Mark, a Keyblade Master who falls into darkness not by choice, but through sacrifice. After sending Mickey away to protect him, Mark travels through various Disney worlds that had just recently fallen to the dark world, slowly losing himself to despair. As darkness consumes him, he takes on a corrupted form and becomes trapped in the Realm of Darkness.

Chapter 1: Land of Departure

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[Mark obtained: Awaking Spirit✨ ]
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[ Mark Learned: Firaga ✨ ]
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[Mark obtained: Toxic Barrage✨]
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[High Jump✨]
[Aerial Recovery✨]
[Mystic Ward✨]
[Counter Bash✨]
[Acro-Wheel✨]
[Scan✨]

The golden light of the setting sun bathed the land in a warm glow as Master Eraqus descended from the courtyard, his Keyblade resting firmly in his grasp. His expression was calm but focused, his thoughts deep as he approached the grand gates before him.

With a swift motion, he raised his Keyblade, its silver and gold design catching the light as he channeled his magic. A blue-white portal shimmered into existence, crackling softly with arcane energy. Without hesitation, Eraqus stepped through, vanishing into its depths.

As the portal closed behind him, another one opened near the base of the Mysterious Tower, its presence felt before it was even seen. The familiar spiral staircase leading to the tower stretched upward, an ever-present reminder of the wisdom contained within.

Eraqus took a deep breath before making his way toward the stairs. As he did, the grand wooden doors at the top slowly creaked open, revealing a small yet powerful figure: Mickey Mouse, clad in his Sorcerer’s Apprentice attire, stepped out, his Keyblade held firmly in hand. He looked up, surprise flashing in his eyes before a wide grin spread across his face. "Master Eraqus! What a surprise!"

A few moments later, the doors opened once more, and from within the tower, Master Yen Sid emerged, his presence commanding yet gentle. His old eyes sparkled with knowing as he gazed upon Eraqus. A slow, warm smile formed beneath his long beard as he greeted his old friend. "Eraqus… It has been quite some time."

Master Eraqus gave a small bow of respect to Yen Sid, his old mentor, before stepping forward. Mickey watched with curiosity, sensing the importance of this unexpected visit. "It has been, old friend," Eraqus responded with a respectful nod. "But I come today with a matter of great importance. My students, Terra and Aqua, are ready to take the Mark of Mastery exam."

Yen Sid folded his hands together, nodding in understanding. "Ah… the time has come then. They have trained under you for many years. I trust their skills have grown significantly?"

Eraqus smiled proudly. "They have. Both possess strong hearts, unwavering dedication, and skill with the Keyblade. But I want this test to truly challenge them not only in power but in resolve. Which is why I wish to ask a favor of you, Yen Sid."

The old sorcerer arched a brow slightly. "Go on." Eraqus crossed his arms, his expression growing serious. "I would like to borrow Mark for the exam." Mickey’s ears perked up in surprise. “Mark?” Yen Sid stroked his beard thoughtfully. "You believe Mark’s presence will provide a proper challenge for them?"

Eraqus nodded. "He is a seasoned Keyblade wielder, one who has walked many roads and faced countless trials. He has wisdom they do not, experiences they have yet to endure. He will not only test their strength but their ability to adapt and grow." Before Yen Sid could respond, a faint whirring sound echoed through the sky. Mickey turned his head upward, his keen eyes spotting a figure approaching at high speed.

Through the glowing evening sky, Mark soared toward them on his Keyblade Glider, the wind rushing past him as he skillfully maneuvered through the air. Dressed in his Keyblade armor, his dark green and gray colors stood out against the warm hues of the sunset. His sharp gaze was locked on the tower as he steadily approached.

Mickey grinned. “Well, speak of the devil, here he comes now!” Mark soared through the sky, his keen feline eyes locked onto the landing spot just outside the Mysterious Tower. As he neared the ground, he smirked beneath his helmet and bent his knees slightly, preparing for a stylish entrance.

At the last second, he flipped backward off his Keyblade Glider, twisting midair before gracefully landing on his feet. He reached out and caught himself, his boots skidding slightly on the stone path before coming to a smooth stop.

With a confident flick of his wrist, he spun his Keyblade, Awaking Spirit, as it shimmered with light, transforming back into its regular form. He gave it a light twirl before making it vanish out of thin air, then he reached up and pressed the release on his helmet.

With a slight hiss, the dark silver and Light gold armor plating retracted, revealing Mark's sharp feline features and dark fur. His ears twitched as he took in his surroundings, his dark-green eyes catching the fading light of the evening sky. A playful grin spread across his face as he tucked his helmet under one arm and strode over toward the three Masters.

"You called for me Master Yensid?" Mark asked, his tone relaxed but with an undertone of curiosity. As Mark approached, Mickey’s face lit up with excitement. "Mark! You're back!" he said, his voice full of enthusiasm as he ran up to him. "It’s been a while! How’ve ya been?" Mark chuckled, patting Mickey on the shoulder. "Still kicking, still flying," he said with a smirk. "Looks like you’ve been keeping yourself busy."

Before they could continue catching up, Master Eraqus cleared his throat, his usual composed expression firm with purpose. "It’s good to see you again, Mark, but I didn’t call you here for a reunion." His tone was serious, cutting straight to the point. "I need your help with the Mark of Mastery Exam for my students, Terra and Aqua."

Mark tilted his head slightly, his tail swishing behind him as he considered the request. "A Mark of Mastery Exam, huh?" His ears perked up with interest as he glanced between Eraqus and Yen Sid. "You want me to put them to the test?"

Eraqus nodded. "They will need to face multiple trials, and I would like you to be part of that. Your experience and skills make you a perfect challenge for them." Mark grinned, crossing his arms. "Well, I can't say no to that. Sounds like fun." He looked toward Yen Sid. "Are you good with me heading out for this?"

Yen Sid gave a small nod. "This will be a valuable experience for both them and you, Mark. Go, and see where this path takes you." Mark turned back to Eraqus, flashing a confident smile. "Alright, count me in."

Master Eraqus folded his arms, looking at Mark with a firm but approving gaze. "There will be three tests," he explained. "The first will challenge their reflexes Terra and Aqua must dispel enchanted orbs of light. The second will test their combat skills against one another. And for the final test, they will each face you in battle. Your role is to push them to their limits, to see if they are ready for the title of Keyblade Master."

Mark nodded, rubbing his chin. "Sounds like a solid challenge. I’ll make sure to give them a fight worth remembering." As Eraqus turned to leave, Mickey quickly stepped forward. "Wait, Mark!" He had a hopeful look in his eyes. "If Master Eraqus needs help, maybe I could come along too! I wanna see how strong Terra and Aqua have gotten!" Before Mark could respond, Yen Sid gently raised a hand, stopping Mickey in his tracks. "No, Mickey." His voice was calm, yet firm. "This is their trial, and it is not yours to interfere with. Your training here is not yet complete."

Mickey frowned slightly but nodded, understanding his master's wisdom. He turned back to Mark with a small smile. "Guess I’ll catch ya later, pal. Good luck." Mark smirked, giving Mickey a playful salute. "Same to you, Mickey. Keep up your training. I'll be expecting a sparring match next time we meet." With that, Master Eraqus gestured for Mark to follow, and the two stepped toward the portal, ready to return to the Land of Departure and begin the Mark of Mastery exam.

Master Eraqus raised his Keyblade, summoning a swirling blue-white portal before them. The energy crackled softly as it stabilized, illuminating the area with a mystical glow. "Come, Mark," Eraqus said, stepping forward. "We must not keep my students waiting. And there will also be a guest observing the exam." Mark arched a brow as he followed Eraqus toward the portal. "A guest, huh? Anyone I should be worried about?" he asked with a smirk.

Eraqus merely gave a small smile, his expression unreadable. "You’ll see soon enough." Without another word, the two stepped through the portal, vanishing in a flash of light as it closed behind them, leaving Yen Sid and Mickey to resume their own training.
*======================*
[ Mark Learned: Blitzing Star-Burst ✨ ]
*======================*

As the portal shimmered into existence above the Land of Departure, Master Eraqus and Mark emerged, the golden hues of the evening sun painting the sky behind them. The castle stood tall in the distance, a beacon of peace and discipline. Mark took a moment to appreciate the view before following Eraqus down the pathway toward the castle.

As they approached the grand doors, a familiar figure was already waiting for them. Ventus, cheerful as always, ran up to greet them. “Master Eraqus! Mark! Welcome back!” Ventus beamed, his eyes lighting up with excitement. Mark grinned and ruffled the younger boy’s hair. “Hey, Ven! Still keeping up with your training?”

Ventus crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. “Of course! I’ve been training with Terra and Aqua every day!” Mark chuckled. “That’s good. Keep at it, and you might just give me a challenge one day.” Ventus smirked, eager to prove himself, but before he could respond, Eraqus gestured toward the castle. “Come. The exam is about to begin.”

The three made their way inside, walking through the grand halls of the castle. As they entered the throne room, the atmosphere shifted one of authority and expectation. Standing beside Eraqus’ seat was none other than Master Xehanort. His presence exuded an unsettling calm, his golden eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.

Mark’s ears twitched slightly, his instincts sharp. He wasn’t fond of Xehanort, though he never voiced it outright. Something about the old master always felt… off. Still, he kept a neutral expression and stood beside Ventus, who also seemed to sense the tension. Xehanort offered a knowing smile. “Ah, Eraqus. I see you’ve brought an extra pair of eyes to witness this grand event.” Eraqus nodded, keeping his tone formal. “Indeed. Mark will be assisting in the final stage of the exam. I trust you won’t mind an extra observer?”

Xehanort let out a deep chuckle. “Of course not. The more, the merrier.” Mark stayed quiet for now, exchanging a glance with Ventus. The young boy looked uneasy, shifting slightly as if he could feel the weight of Xehanort’s gaze. Wherever Xehanort was, trouble was never too far behind.

And Mark had a feeling that today would be no exception. Master Eraqus stepped forward, his presence commanding the room as he raised his hand for silence. "The Mark of Mastery Exam shall now begin." His voice echoed through the chamber, his gaze falling on Terra and Aqua, who both straightened with determination. "Your first trial is to cleanse the chamber of these orbs of light. They will test your ability to strike with precision, maintain your focus, and control your magic." With a motion of his Keyblade, Eraqus summoned several glowing orbs into existence, each hovering with a soft hum of energy. At first, they floated gently, awaiting the test to begin.

Then, Master Xehanort took a step forward, subtly raising his hand. A faint, dark shimmer passed through the air as he infused his own magic into the orbs. Their soft glow turned erratic, their movements becoming wild and unpredictable. Some shot through the air at unnatural speeds, while others flickered dangerously, threatening to burst with unstable energy. Terra and Aqua tensed in surprise at the sudden change, exchanging a brief, knowing glance. "Something’s wrong!" Aqua said, gripping her Keyblade tighter. "No time to question it, let’s go!" Terra shouted as he leapt forward, bringing his Keyblade down on an incoming orb.

The battle began. The orbs now darted unpredictably through the room, forcing Terra and Aqua to react quickly. Aqua weaved through the chaos with graceful agility, slashing through orbs with precision, while Terra used brute strength to smash through them, his swings heavy and decisive.

Then, before anyone could stop him, Ventus dashed into the fray, summoning his Keyblade with a flash of light. "I’m helping too!" he declared, launching himself toward a cluster of orbs with impressive speed. He spun mid-air, cutting through them with a whirlwind strike before landing beside Aqua.

Eraqus opened his mouth, perhaps to reprimand Ven for interfering, but seeing how well he worked alongside his fellow students, he allowed it though his expression remained firm. From the sidelines, Mark remained still, his sharp eyes shifting toward Xehanort. The old master was watching the chaos with an almost amused expression, his golden eyes reflecting the light of the orbs.

Mark narrowed his gaze, gripping his Keyblade at his side. He saw what Xehanort did. Something was off about this whole thing. The orbs shouldn’t have been this aggressive, this volatile. And yet, there Xehanort stood, watching as if testing something. Mark wasn’t sure what game the old man was playing, but he didn’t like it. Not one bit. With a final, resounding strike, Terra slammed his Keyblade into the last orb, sending it bursting into a flash of light and dissipating into thin air. Aqua followed suit, her well-timed magic finishing off the remaining orbs with a flick of her wrist, sending a flurry of ice and fire in rapid succession.

The room fell silent, save for the faint echoes of the final blasts. The once-chaotic orbs were now nothing more than shattered fragments of light, scattered throughout the chamber. Master Eraqus stepped forward, his stern gaze sweeping across the room, scanning both Terra and Aqua. "That was... rather strange." His voice held a trace of concern, though he kept his composure. "The orbs were not supposed to be so chaotic. It appears someone tampered with their nature, perhaps as a test of your adaptability. But nonetheless, you both handled it well."

He nodded approvingly to each of them before turning his attention to the next phase of the exam. "Now, we proceed. Terra, Aqua, you will now face each other in combat. This will test your skill, control, and your understanding of what you’ve learned thus far." Ventus, having been watching closely, jogged over to Mark’s side. He gave Mark a quick, nervous glance, as though seeking reassurance. "That was intense," he murmured, watching Terra and Aqua take their positions. "I didn’t expect it to be so crazy. Do you think they’ll be okay?"

Mark smiled slightly, keeping his gaze fixed on the battle that was about to unfold. "They’re both strong," he replied, his voice calm but his eyes alert. "But something’s off. I’ve got a bad feeling about all this."

Mark glanced toward Master Xehanort briefly. The old man hadn’t moved, but his presence was unnerving, his golden eyes never leaving the scene. Mark couldn’t shake the feeling that Xehanort was orchestrating something much larger than just an exam.

Terra and Aqua stood facing each other now, their Keyblades raised in readiness. The tension was palpable in the air as Eraqus nodded once more to signal the start of the fight. Without a word, Terra charged forward, his Earthshaker Keyblade raised high, ready to strike. He slammed the blade into the ground, causing the earth beneath them to tremble and crack. Rocks and debris surged upward around him, forming a defensive barrier as Terra prepared for his next move.

"Earth!" Terra shouted, sending a wave of rocks toward Aqua. Aqua swiftly dodged, her body a blur as she moved with elegance and speed. "Blizzard!" she cast, sending a freezing gust of wind towards Terra, followed by a volley of icy shards. Terra grunted as he swung his Keyblade to deflect the incoming projectiles, but the cold still managed to nip at him, slowing him down.

But Aqua didn’t stop there. "Thunder!" She summoned a bolt of lightning, sending it crashing toward Terra’s position. The bolt hit the ground with an explosive crack, forcing Terra to leap backward.  Mark observed the battle closely. As he watched Terra, his attention shifted briefly when he saw the subtle shift in his aura. Terra’s body glowed a faint dark purple for a second before he shook it off, visibly regaining his focus.

"Interesting…" Mark muttered under his breath, his brow furrowed in thought. The darkness was still a part of Terra, even now. It seemed to linger just beneath the surface. Aqua, seeing the brief vulnerability in Terra’s movements, pressed her advantage. She lunged forward with her Keyblade, aiming for a precise strike. Terra, however, managed to block it just in time, his strength forcing Aqua back.

"You’re strong, Aqua," Terra said, his voice steady, but there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes. "But I won’t go down that easily." Ventus, standing at Mark’s side, was tense as he watched the fight unfold. "Do you think Terra’s okay? I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him like this before..." Mark didn’t answer right away. His eyes were fixed on Terra, watching the subtle moments where the darkness flickered within him.

"I hope so, Ventus," Mark finally said, his voice low. "But something tells me that darkness isn’t gone. And it might come back when he least expects it." The battle between Terra and Aqua raged on, each combatant pushing their limits. Terra, his earth magic creating swirling stone barriers and rock projectiles, fought with fierce determination. Aqua, with her swift and graceful movements, countered each of Terra’s attacks with a mix of fire, ice, and lightning, forcing him to stay on the defensive.

The two exchanged powerful blows, their Keyblades clashing with a sound that reverberated throughout the chamber. Terra swung his Earthshaker Keyblade, causing tremors in the ground, while Aqua responded with a flurry of fiery strikes, forcing the earth warrior to leap back.

"You're tough, Terra!" Aqua called out, a hint of admiration in her voice despite the intensity of their battle. "You’re not too bad yourself!" Terra retorted, breathing heavily but not giving an inch. With a final, coordinated strike, Aqua sent a barrage of icy shards toward Terra, followed by a blast of fire that encircled him. The flames licked at his form, but Terra pushed through, calling upon his gravity magic to shift the battlefield in his favor. The pressure built up, sending Aqua skidding backward, but just before she could regain her footing, Terra moved in, his Keyblade raised high for the finishing blow.

But Aqua, ever the tactician, managed to deflect the strike at the last second. With a burst of magic, she created a shield of ice around herself, then fired a concentrated blast of thunder at Terra, causing a stunning crackle of energy to arc through the air.

The force of the attack staggered Terra, and for a moment, he stood there, his chest heaving. Aqua stepped back, lowering her Keyblade as she caught her breath. Terra, though winded, smiled. "You’ve won this time, Aqua," he admitted, wiping sweat from his brow. "But it was close." Aqua nodded, lowering her Keyblade to her side as she gave Terra a warm smile. "You’re stronger than you think, Terra. We make a great team, even when we’re facing off."

Eraqus, who had been watching intently, stepped forward with a nod of approval. "That was well done. Both of you. You showed skill, heart, and adaptability." The atmosphere shifted slightly as Master Eraqus turned to face Mark, standing at the side with Ventus. Eraqus, his expression serious yet determined, made his way toward Mark, his footsteps firm on the stone floor.

"Mark," Eraqus said, his voice low but full of authority. "It’s time for the final test. I need you to be ready. Don’t go easy on either of them." Mark, having been quiet throughout the exam, nodded in acknowledgment. "I understand. I won’t hold back." Eraqus gave him a steady, approving glance, before turning back toward Terra and Aqua. "This next part will be crucial. You’ve proven your strength, but now, you’ll face Mark. The Keyblade Master will be testing both of you in turn. Prepare yourselves."

Mark stretched out his arms, rolling his shoulders as he made his way toward the center of the room. He turned to face both Terra and Aqua, his Keyblade, Awaking Spirit, glowing softly in his grasp. His tail swished slightly behind him, his feline features sharp with focus. Ventus, still at Mark’s side, leaned in and whispered, "You got this, Mark. Just take it one step at a time." Mark flashed him a quick grin, then took a deep breath, shifting his stance as he prepared for what would come next. "Thanks, Ventus. I’ll give it my all."

The air in the throne room felt thick with anticipation as Eraqus signaled for the next round to begin. The room seemed to quiet, all eyes on the three Keyblade wielders. Mark was ready, but something still gnawed at the back of his mind the darkness that lingered within Terra was far from gone. He would need to be careful.

The battle between Mark and Terra began with palpable tension. As the two stepped forward, Eraqus and the others observed with bated breath, knowing this would be a true test of both their skills. Mark stood tall, his Keyblade in hand, glowing with an ethereal light. Terra, on the other hand, exuded a quiet but intense strength, his Earthshaker Keyblade ready as he steeled himself. A flicker of something darker danced in his eyes, but he quickly suppressed it. Mark, however, noticed Terra's inner struggle, the flicker of darkness that tried to creep in.

"Ready when you are," Mark said, his tail twitching with anticipation. His stance was calm, prepared for anything Terra could throw at him. "I’m not holding back," Terra growled, his voice tinged with something deeper than just determination.

Without warning, Terra surged forward, his Keyblade crashing down in a powerful swing. Mark barely managed to dodge, leaping backward as a shockwave from Terra’s attack rumbled the ground beneath them. Terra swung again, his movements heavy but precise, using his earth and gravity magic to try to pin Mark down. "Earth!" Terra shouted, slamming his Keyblade into the ground. The earth trembled, sending large chunks of rock shooting up from beneath Mark's feet, forcing him to jump aside just in time. The barrage of boulders rained down, but Mark retaliated quickly.

"Firaga!" Mark called out, unleashing a blazing ball of fire at the incoming stones, melting them before they could hit him. He followed up with a quick Thundara, a bolt of lightning crackling toward Terra. Terra was fast enough to raise his Keyblade and deflect the lightning, but Mark wasn’t done. "Blizzara!" The cold blast hit Terra, freezing the ground beneath him, but he used his gravity magic to quickly lift himself into the air, avoiding the ice.

"Not bad," Terra muttered, clearly impressed, but then his expression darkened. The internal struggle he had been battling began to break through. He gripped his Keyblade tightly, the tip of it glowing with a dark aura. "Ngh…" Terra whispered to himself. In an instant, the energy around him twisted, shadows swirling at the base of his Keyblade, and with a roar, he unleashed it upon Mark. "Ah!" Terra cried, sending a blast of dark energy directly at Mark. The attack tore through the air like a torrent, distorting the light around it.

Mark’s eyes widened. He had seen the darkness within Terra before but this time, it felt different. It was raw, wild, and uncontrolled. He quickly raised his Keyblade to shield himself, but the dark magic still surged, pushing him back. Mark staggered but held his ground. "I’ve got to stay focused…" Mark muttered to himself.

"Aerora!" he called out, summoning a gust of wind that deflected some of the darkness, allowing him to regain his balance. With a sharp motion, Mark summoned his own counterattack. "Watera!" A massive wave of water shot forward, crashing into Terra's dark magic, splashing against the ground and temporarily neutralizing the dark energy. Breathing heavily, Terra glared at Mark, frustration and guilt evident in his eyes. "You think this makes me weak?" he growled, his hands trembling with the lingering darkness. "I’m not losing again!"

Mark, sensing Terra's internal battle, hesitated for a moment. He could see the struggle in his eyes. "Terra enough." Mark said, lowering his Keyblade slightly, his voice calm but firm. "You don’t have to win with darkness."

Terra paused, his body stiffening. The darkness around him seemed to flicker, fading for a moment before surging again. "Stay focused, Terra," Mark urged again, his tone softening. "The darkness doesn't have to define you." For a brief moment, Terra stood motionless, a battle raging within him. Then, with a heavy breath, he regained control, the dark aura dissipating as he nodded grimly. "I’m not letting it take over," he muttered.

With that, Terra charged forward once again, but this time his attacks were more controlled, his strikes cleaner, as if he were fighting with his heart, not his anger. Mark, sensing this shift, prepared himself for the final exchange. "Let’s finish this." The two engaged in a flurry of strikes, Keyblades flashing against one another. Terra's Earthshaker swung heavy and powerful, but Mark's agility and precision allowed him to dodge and counter. He unleashed a Gravira spell, causing Terra to stagger slightly as the gravitational pull intensified, but Terra quickly righted himself, his Earth magic helping him stabilize.

With a final, decisive move, Mark swung his Keyblade upward, a burst of light emitting from it as he landed a clean strike on Terra’s Keyblade, knocking it from his hands. Terra stood, panting and exhausted, but he managed a small smile. "Well fought, Mark," he said, his voice rough but sincere. "You really pushed me." Mark, breathing heavily as well, gave a nod of respect. "It was a close one. You’re stronger than you think, Terra."

The room quieted as Eraqus, Yensid, and the others observed, impressed by the duel’s intensity and the way Terra fought with such raw power and inner conflict. Mark stood back, watching Terra for a moment longer before returning his gaze to Eraqus, ready for whatever came next in the exam.

The tension in the room was palpable as the battle between Mark and Terra came to a close. Eraqus stood silently, his face a mixture of disappointment and concern. Terra had fought valiantly, but the darkness that had flickered inside him had shown through in a way that made Eraqus’ heart heavy. He had hoped Terra would have been able to overcome it but instead, it had influenced his actions.

Xehanort, standing off to the side, observed the battle with an unsettling calmness. His lips curled into a small, knowing smirk, amusement glimmering in his eyes. He had always been one to appreciate the darker side of things, especially when it made those around him falter. Watching Eraqus’ struggle to hide his disappointment was something he relished. The old master’s discomfort was almost palpable.

"Interesting," Xehanort murmured, more to himself than to anyone else, though his voice carried in the room. His gaze flickered over to Eraqus, catching a moment of vulnerability. "It seems the line between light and dark is thinner than most believe."

Terra’s breathing was heavy, his body exhausted from the battle. He glanced at Mark, offering a sheepish grin despite his inner turmoil. "You won this round," Terra said, though his voice held a deep frustration. "I couldn’t keep control…" "You will," Mark replied softly. "The darkness isn’t you, Terra. You can fight it."

But before anything more could be said, the next battle began. Aqua, standing tall and calm, stepped forward. Her posture was disciplined, her eyes locked onto Mark with a mix of respect and determination. The duel began quickly, and Aqua’s movements were precise. "Blizzard!" she called, sending a blizzard of icy shards toward Mark. Mark narrowly dodged, countering with his own elemental magic. "Firaga!" The fireball blazed toward Aqua, but she deftly used her Thunder spell to deflect the attack, sending arcs of electricity toward Mark.

Mark quickly regained his stance, "Thundara!" He retaliated with a storm of lightning, but Aqua, ever the skilled fighter, jumped high, using her magic to propel herself further into the air, evading the attack. The battle was fluid, fast-paced. Aqua and Mark exchanged elemental blasts, their attacks colliding in bright bursts of light and energy. Aqua’s precision with her magic was evident, while Mark’s versatility in using both offense and defense kept the fight tight. However, as the fight wore on, it became apparent that Aqua had the edge; her magic was more controlled, more measured.

"Blizzard!" Aqua called again, a massive ice storm enveloping the battlefield, pushing Mark back. Mark countered with "Watera!" to deflect the ice, but Aqua was already closing the distance. In the end, Aqua's last strike was precisely a blast of Thunder that sent Mark skidding back. He landed hard, the impact making it clear that Aqua’s speed and control had won out.

*=====================*
[Mark obtained: Thunderweaver ✨]
*=====================*

Eraqus stepped forward, looking somber. "Terra… failed. His darkness got the better of him. Aqua, you pass." His voice was stern, his disappointment in Terra barely contained, but his pride in Aqua was clear. Mark, a little winded from the fight, began to move toward the edge of the room, preparing to leave the Land of Departure. As he turned to leave, Eraqus called out to him, and Mark froze.

"Mark," Eraqus began, his tone firm but not unkind. "I need you to return to Yensid’s tower. There's something I need you to do there." Mark nodded, about to say his goodbyes, but before he could, he noticed the others Terra and Aqua exchanging words, their attention focused elsewhere. They had already begun to leave.

He looked around, then glanced back at Eraqus. "Alright. I’ll head back." Eraqus summoned a portal, and as it began to shimmer with blue light, Mark gave one last glance at the room. He noticed Xehanort, still standing off to the side, smirking knowingly. Mark didn’t like the look in his eyes, but before he could dwell on it, the portal whisked him away.

The moment the swirling blue light closed behind him, Mark found himself back at Yensid’s tower, a chill running down his spine. Xehanort’s smirk lingered in his thoughts, as if he had expected this outcome all along.

"What’s he up to?" Mark muttered to himself, a sense of unease creeping into his mind. Mark walked briskly up the stairs to Yensid’s tower, the soft glow of the magical lights lining the walls guiding his way. He was still replaying the events of the exam in his mind, especially the way Terra had struggled with the darkness within him. That lingering thought of Xehanort's smirk kept gnawing at the back of his mind. What was the old master planning?

Reaching the top of the stairs, Mark entered the grand chamber where Yensid and Mickey stood. The air in the room was thick with quiet contemplation, the atmosphere always somehow serene but foreboding in its own way. Yensid, with his long white beard and wise eyes, was already looking in Mark's direction.

"Mark, glad you could join us," Yensid said, his voice as calm as ever, though there was a flicker of concern in his gaze. "It's good to be back," Mark replied with a nod, walking up to the two. Mickey was standing next to Yensid, wearing his usual cheerful expression, but even he seemed to sense the gravity of whatever was about to be discussed.

"I’m afraid we’ve got something serious to address," Yensid continued, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "A new threat has emerged in the Realm of Darkness. We’ve been sensing disturbances, dark forces stirring in ways we haven’t felt before."

Mickey glanced at Mark, his ears twitching with worry. "It’s like nothing we've seen before, huh?" Mark frowned, feeling a knot form in his stomach. The Realm of Darkness was dangerous enough as it was, but now there was something new stirring there? This couldn’t be good. Yensid raised his hand, and with a subtle flick of his wrist, a portal shimmered into existence behind him. "In order to confront this new threat, you’ll need something crucial, an artifact that can guide you through the darkness and back."

From within his robes, Yensid produced a small, crystal-clear blue star shard, its surface twinkling as if it contained a galaxy within. The shard’s shape was jagged, but the most striking feature was the tiny yellow comet embedded in its center, flickering like a star in the night sky. "This is a Star Shard," Yensid explained, his tone carrying the weight of centuries of knowledge. "It has the unique ability to bring you back from the Realm of Darkness. It works by attuning itself to your heart, teleporting you back to a place where your thoughts are strongest."

Mark reached out, feeling the warmth of the shard’s magic pulse in his palm as he took it from Yensid’s hand. He couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of it. The shard seemed to hum with potential, and he knew it would be invaluable on the journey ahead. "This will guide you back," Yensid confirmed. "But be careful. The Realm of Darkness is unpredictable, and the new threat you’ll face will not be easily overcome."

Mickey bounced on his heels, a gleam of excitement in his eyes, though the concern was still there. "Mark, we’re with ya on this! We can’t let whatever’s causing all this darkness go unchecked!" Mark looked between Yensid and Mickey, nodding solemnly. "I’m ready. Whatever this new threat is, I’ll handle it. We can’t let it consume everything."

Yensid gave a firm nod. "Good. Mickey will accompany you. It’s important that you have someone who knows the way, especially in the Realm of Darkness." Mark’s gaze met Mickey’s, and he offered him a small smile. "You sure you’re up for this, buddy?" Mickey grinned. "You bet! Let’s do this together!"

Yensid turned to face the portal, and with a motion of his hand, it expanded into a swirling vortex of shadows and light. "Good luck, Mark. You’ll need all the strength you have. But remember do not stray from your purpose. The Realm of Darkness has a way of distorting one's mind."Mark gave Yensid a determined nod, then turned to Mickey. "Let’s go." Together, they stepped into the portal, the swirling darkness enveloping them, and in the next instant, they were gone off to face the unknown in the heart of the Realm of Darkness. As the portal closed behind them, Yensid stood silently for a moment, his wise eyes staring into the distance. The fate of the worlds was always so fragile, and it was never clearer than now.

Chapter 2: The Realm of Darkness

The Realm of Darkness was exactly as Mark remembered it, endless, desolate, and filled with an eerie stillness. The sky was a swirling mass of deep purples and blacks, with streaks of faint blue light cutting through the void. The ground beneath their feet was solid yet unnatural, like walking on the surface of a shadow that had taken form. There was no wind, no warmth, just an oppressive silence that made the air feel thick.

Mark and Mickey walked side by side, their Keyblades in hand. Each step echoed slightly, but it wasn’t the sound of their footsteps that unnerved Mark, it was the sensation of being watched. "This place is... somethin' else," Mickey murmured, his voice unusually subdued. "I ain't never been here before, but... it feels like it’s tryin’ to pull you under." Mark gave a small nod, scanning the horizon. "Yeah… it has a way of messing with your head. I’ve been here once before, but I didn’t stick around long."

Mickey glanced at him. "What happened?" Mark hesitated before answering. "I got out." The conversation stalled for a moment. They both knew the darkness had a way of distorting reality, twisting even the strongest hearts. If they weren’t careful, they could be lost forever. Mickey, ever the optimist, tried to lighten the mood. "Well, good thing we got each other, huh? We’ll get that Keychain and be outta here in no time!" Mark smirked slightly. "You make it sound easy."

Before Mickey could respond, the air around them shifted. A deep, resonating hum echoed through the void, and the shadows in the distance began to twist violently. The darkness itself seemed to ripple like a disturbed lake, and suddenly, from the ground, an enormous vortex of pure darkness erupted.

A Demon Tide. The swarm of Shadows coiled and twisted into a massive, snake-like formation, their glowing yellow eyes flickering like embers in the night. The ground trembled beneath its presence, as if the Realm itself was reacting to its arrival.

Mickey took a step forward, gripping his Keyblade tightly. "Alright! Let’s take it down, Mark!" Before Mark could warn him, Mickey dashed forward with incredible speed, leaping high into the air and slamming his Keyblade down onto the swirling mass of Heartless.

The impact sent ripples through the Demon Tide, but the swarm barely flinched. In an instant, the writhing Shadows retaliated, surging upward like a tidal wave and slamming into Mickey with devastating force. "Agh!" Mickey cried out as he was sent flying backward, tumbling across the ground before skidding to a stop. He gritted his teeth, quickly pushing himself up. "Oof... That thing hits harder than I thought!"

Mark exhaled sharply, stepping forward as he readied his Keyblade. "Yeah, rushing in head first probably wasn’t the best idea." The Demon Tide let out a distorted, inhuman shriek as it twisted violently, preparing to strike again. The sheer size and speed of it made it clear this was going to be one tough fight.

Mark twirled his Keyblade once before planting his feet firmly on the darkened ground. His magic surged around him as he prepared for battle. "Alright then…" Mark muttered, his eyes locking onto the massive swarm. The Demon Tide roared as it surged forward again, its mass of swirling Shadows twisting like a raging storm. Mark and Mickey stood side by side, gripping their Keyblades tightly.

"Alright, no more rushing in," Mark said, keeping his eyes on the monstrous swarm. "We take it down together." Mickey gave a determined nod. "Got it! Let’s give it all we got!" The Demon Tide twisted violently before shooting toward them like a dark tsunami.

"Thundara!" Mark called out, raising his Keyblade. A bolt of crackling lightning arced through the air, striking the swarm dead center. The Shadows flinched at the impact, their glowing yellow eyes flickering.

"Holy!" Mickey followed up, raising his Keyblade as radiant light burst outward, slamming into the Demon Tide. The pure energy sent some of the Shadows scattering, but the mass quickly reformed. The Demon Tide retaliated, sweeping toward them at high speed. Mark planted his feet. "Gravira!" A swirling void of gravitational energy formed beneath the Heartless, dragging parts of the swarm downward. The attack slowed the Demon Tide’s movements just enough for Mickey to leap forward.

"Take this!" Mickey shouted, slashing through the mass of Shadows with his Keyblade. The burst of light magic cut through several of them, causing them to dissipate into darkness. Mark wasted no time following up. He thrust his Keyblade forward. "Firaga!" A blazing sphere of fire shot from his weapon, colliding with the Heartless and erupting into a fiery explosion. The blast scattered parts of the swarm, sending tendrils of darkness recoiling.

The Demon Tide twisted violently, shifting direction before lunging again. This time, the force of the attack sent both Mark and Mickey skidding backward. Mark quickly recovered, gripping his Keyblade. "Watera!" A surge of water spiraled up from the ground, crashing into the enemy. The liquid energy tore through several Shadows, sending more of them dissipating into nothingness.

Mickey spun his Keyblade and pointed it toward the Heartless. "Stopra!" A shimmering field of magic expanded outward, catching a portion of the swarm. The affected Shadows froze in place, momentarily suspended in time.

Mark took the opportunity. "Blizzara!" A surge of icy wind shot forward, encasing part of the swarm in jagged ice. The frozen Heartless shattered instantly, vanishing into the void. The two fighters pushed forward, landing blow after blow with their Keyblades, using their combined magic to whittle the enemy down. The Demon Tide screeched, thrashing as its form began to waver. "Almost there!" Mickey said, glancing at Mark.

But just before they could finish it off, the Demon Tide twisted sharply, its entire mass unraveling into streams of darkness. With an ear-piercing screech, it rapidly retreated into the abyss, disappearing into the void.

Mark exhaled sharply, lowering his Keyblade. "Tch… it got away." Mickey frowned, looking in the direction the Heartless had fled. "That ain’t good… If it’s still out there, it might come back with even more of ‘em."

Mark tightened his grip on his Keyblade, his expression serious. "Then we better find that Keychain before it does." Mickey nodded, adjusting his stance. "Yeah. Let’s keep movin’." With their weapons still drawn, the two turned and pressed forward.

*=======================*
[Mark Learned: Heavenly Symphony ✨ ]
*=======================*

Mark and Mickey wandered through the eerie, desolate landscape of the Realm of Darkness, keeping their Keyblades close. The air felt heavy, thick with lingering darkness, and the distant echoes of Heartless shifting through the shadows kept them on high alert.

As they walked, Mark spotted something in the distance. "Hey, check that out." He pointed toward a nearly broken tower, its structure barely holding together, leaning slightly as if ready to collapse. Mickey squinted. "That thing looks like it could fall apart any second." Mark smirked. "All the more reason to see if there’s anything worth finding."

Before Mickey could protest, Mark had already dashed ahead. He leapt onto the lower ledges of the tower, gripping the rough stone edges with ease. His movements were fluid, instinctual like a cat scaling a tree. With each jump, he twisted and flipped to land just right, making his way higher without hesitation.

Mickey put his hands on his hips, watching from below. "Just be careful, will ya?" "Yeah, yeah." Mark grinned as he reached the top, pulling himself up onto the remains of what looked like an old platform. There, sitting undisturbed, was a lone treasure chest.

He stepped closer, gripping his Keyblade. With a quick spin, he twisted his body mid-air, using his momentum to drive the teeth of his Keyblade into the chest's lock. The mechanism clicked, and the lid popped open with a faint shimmer of magic. Inside, a cold blue light pulsed an upgrade. The magic within seeped into his Keyblade, enhancing his power.

*================*
[ Mark Learned: Blizzaga ✨ ]
*================*

Mark gave a satisfied nod before turning his attention downward. Mickey was still watching from below, arms crossed. "So, uh… You gettin’ down safe or what?" Mark chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your ears twisted." Carefully, he maneuvered down, making sure to pick his footing wisely so he wouldn’t make Mickey worry. When he reached a stable ledge, he leapt off with a controlled flip, landing with ease on the ground beside Mickey.

Mickey gave him an amused look. "Show-off." Mark smirked. "Hey, I made it down safely and I did it all in style." Mickey shook his head with a chuckle. "C’mon, let’s keep goin’. That Keychain ain’t gonna find itself." With that, the two pressed forward, deeper into the unknown

The duo had wandered through the endless, twisted landscapes of the Realm of Darkness for what felt like hours, the oppressive air thick with an unsettling weight. Shadows danced eerily around them, casting flickers of movement in the corner of their eyes. Mark and Mickey, used to the dangers of their journey, maintained a tense vigilance. Their Keyblades were always at the ready, and their senses were sharp.

"Do you ever get the feeling we're being watched, when you’re in darkness?" Mark asked, his voice low. Mickey glanced around warily. "Yeah… I’ve had that feeling ever since we stepped in here. Just gotta keep movin’." As they pressed on, the world around them seemed to darken even more. A heavy silence settled, broken only by their footsteps. Then, suddenly, the ground beneath their feet trembled, and an eerie, chilling roar echoed through the air. "Uh-oh…" Mark muttered, his grip tightening on his Keyblade.

Out of the shadows, Darkside appeared a massive, hulking figure emerging from the darkness. The Heartless was a terrifying sight, with its long, twisted arms, black skin, and a head full of nightmarish tentacles. The faint glow of its yellow eyes pierced through the darkness like twin beacons of doom. The heart-shaped hole in its chest sent a shiver down Mark’s spine as it charged toward them with terrifying force.

"This thing’s huge!" Mickey shouted, already preparing himself for a fight. Mark nodded. "Let’s do this. We’re not backing down." They rushed in, attacking the Darkside from both sides. Mark unleashed Firaga, a massive fireball engulfing the Heartless’s side, while Mickey fired a quick Holy spell aimed at its chest. The creature staggered slightly, but its dark, twisted form absorbed the impact, shrugging off the attacks as if they were nothing.

The Darkside’s long arms swung down, knocking Mickey away with a brutal swipe. The young mouse barely had time to react, crashing into the ground with a grunt. Mark tried to retaliate, summoning Thundara, sending bolts of lightning cascading toward the Heartless. But it was only momentarily stunned before its massive hands reached out to grab Mark. "This thing is tough!" Mark shouted, dodging and rolling out of the way just in time. Mickey, now back on his feet, ran in with his Keyblade raised, launching Stopra to freeze the Darkside in place for a moment. But the creature’s strength was immense, and it broke free with an eerie, distorted roar. It then swiped its claws at Mickey, sending him tumbling again.

Mark groaned under his breath. "We need something bigger, now!" Mickey grinned despite the odds. "I got an idea. Let’s do it together." Without waiting for Mark’s reply, Mickey stood up, summoning his strength. Mark, picking up on what Mickey was thinking, nodded and joined him. The two of them jumped back into position, creating a barrier of light between them and the Darkside.

"Blitzing Star-Burst!" Mark and Mickey shouted in unison, the light from their Keyblades converging into a massive, spinning star above them. The star began to glow, radiating energy as it spun faster and faster. "Now!" Mark called out.

The massive star shot out a flurry of smaller shooting stars, each one striking the Darkside, causing the Heartless to howl in fury. The stars exploded on impact, dealing damage while simultaneously creating a brief period of invincibility for Mark and Mickey. They spun around, blasting more stars and sending the Darkside reeling back.

But despite the onslaught, the Darkside still wasn’t defeated. Its glowing yellow eyes burned with rage, and it roared as it prepared for another attack. "It’s still standing!" Mickey exclaimed, out of breath but determined. Mark clenched his fists. "We’ll have to push harder. We can’t let it keep going like this!"

Mark’s body was covered in bruises and cuts as the Darkside continued to relentlessly batter him and Mickey. The fight had gone on long enough, and the pressure of the battle was beginning to wear them both down. The Heartless was still towering over them, its grotesque form proving more resilient than anything Mark had faced before.

"Ah!" Mark grunted, dodging a massive fist coming toward him. He barely managed to roll out of the way, but Mickey wasn’t so lucky, taking a blow that sent him flying into a nearby wall. "Mickey!" he yelled as he looked over at the heartless.

Mark’s hands clenched around his Keyblade as the frustration and exhaustion began to boil over his entire body. He could feel his magic rising, an electric charge crackling within him. Without thinking, he felt a surge of power course through him. "Leave us alone!"  The atmosphere around him seemed to shift, the air growing heavier with the presence of static energy.

"Stay away!!" Mark shouted as the transformation engulfed him. The lightning surrounding his Keyblade became more intense, arcing around him like a shield of electric power. Mark moved with precision, his body flowing into his newly enhanced combo. He rushed at the Darkside, delivering a powerful thunder-like attack, he began to hit with a Lighting Upswing with his Keyblade that sent the Heartless reeling. With a quick Thunder Rush, Mark soared into the air, circling above the Heartless before bringing his Keyblade down with a Right Spin Swing, followed by another Thunder Rush mid-air to strike again. The Darkside staggered backward, its form starting to waver as Mark continued his combo, the thunder-infused slashes taking their toll.

Mark landed with precision and executed a Left Spin Swing, each strike crackling with more intense lightning, weakening the Heartless with every blow. With a final surge of power, Mark finished his combo with a Pulse Blast. A blinding explosion of electricity erupted from his Keyblade, the electric energy swirling around him before shooting out in every direction, blasting the Darkside with massive arcs of lightning. The creature howled in agony as it was engulfed by the storm.

But Mark wasn’t finished yet. His form change was still active, and he knew he had one last move to seal the deal. Mark lowered himself to the ground, his Keyblade held high, as he began to spin faster and faster. His body blurred with the intensity of the motion. "Take this!" he shouted, his voice full of energy.

The very ground around him began to tremble as thunderclouds gathered overhead, swirling violently. With each spin, thunder shards formed in the air above him, the heartless would stagger as Mark would move over to him, the sound of crackling electricity filling the space. The storm reached its peak as Mark rose from the ground, his Keyblade held out before him. The thunder shards ruptured, sending a massive thunderblast streaking toward the Darkside.

The explosion shook the very air around them, the Heartless finally collapsing into nothingness, its dark, twisted form disintegrating into the shadows from which it came. The echoes of its defeat rang out in the emptiness of the Realm of Darkness. Mark stood panting, his chest heaving with each breath. He glanced over to Mickey, who was slumped against the wall, still unconscious from the earlier blow.

Mark quickly rushed to his side, kneeling beside him. The toll of the battle had taken its toll on Mickey, and it pained Mark to see his friend hurt. He casted Cura, a soothing green light enveloping Mickey’s body as the healing spell took effect. The bruises and cuts began to fade, and Mickey’s breathing steadied.

"Come on, Mickey," Mark whispered as he watched the healing magic work. "Stay with me, buddy." After a few moments, Mickey stirred, groaning softly as he slowly opened his eyes. "Mark…" Mickey whispered, blinking in confusion. "Hey... You... you did it…" Mark smiled, standing up and offering his hand to help Mickey to his feet. "Yeah, but we’re not done yet. Let’s keep moving." Mickey looked at Mark, his expression grateful but still weary. "I don’t know what I’d do without you." "We make a good team," Mark said with a grin. "Now, let’s get out of here before any more surprises show up."

Mark and Mickey, still recovering from their previous battle, had begun to make their way back toward the entrance of the Realm of Darkness. They could sense the oppressive atmosphere shifting, the darkness growing thicker as they pressed forward. But something was off there was an unnatural stillness that felt unsettling, like they were being watched.

Before either of them could react, the silence was shattered by a strange figure emerging from the shadows. It had the shape of a person, its body shifting and morphing, its features constantly changing, though its glowing yellow eyes remained fixed on them. The Heartless stood tall, its body warping and contorting like liquid darkness, mocking the forms of the living but always remaining the same: twisted, evil, and dark.

Neither Mark nor Mickey knew what it was called, but one thing was certain: it was dangerous. As the creature lunged forward, it mimicked the appearance of Mark, its black, shadowy form taking on the same proportions, only with the twisted Heartless color palette and the same glowing yellow eyes. It wasn’t just an ordinary Heartless. It could change and adapt in ways neither of them had seen before.

The creature landed a brutal blow on Mark, sending him crashing into the ground. Mickey immediately went to his side, trying to help, but the Heartless was relentless. The battle quickly became overwhelming. Every time Mark or Mickey struck it, the creature would reform, adapting to each of their attacks. It was too strong, too fast. Mark struggled to get back on his feet, his vision blurry from the force of the last hit. He could feel his energy fading, his muscles burning, and he knew they couldn’t win like this.

He glanced at Mickey, eyes filled with determination despite the pain. "Mickey, listen to me.." he called, his voice strained. "You have to go.. Take the star shard and get out of here!" Mickey shook his head frantically, his hand reaching out. "I’m not leaving you! We can still fight this thing together!"

Mark’s heart sank at the thought of leaving Mickey behind, but he knew what had to be done. With a pained expression, he reached for the star shard that Yensid had given him the crystal clear blue star with the little yellow comet inside. He focused his magic into it, the shard glowing brightly as he infused it with his energy. "Go!" Mark shouted, tossing the star toward Mickey. "You have to go back to the Realm of Light. You’re needed there, Mickey. Don’t argue. I’ll be fine. This isn’t your fight anymore, please get to safety."

Mickey looked at the star in disbelief, a mixture of sadness and fear flooding his expression. "Mark, no! I won’t leave you, we can think of something together!" But Mark’s voice was firm, filled with a quiet resolve. "Mickey, you have to. Someone other than Aqua has to be helping the worlds. They need you, and you’re the King, you have to be there for your people."

As Mark’s words hit him, Mickey’s heart ached, but he knew Mark was right. Reluctantly, he caught the star shard in his hands, clutching it close to his chest. "I’ll be back, Mark. I swear it." Mark didn’t respond with words. Instead, he gave a faint smile, his expression softening for a brief moment. "Be safe." With a final nod, Mark focused on the magic in his Keyblade, activating the power within the shard.

In an instant, a swirling light enveloped Mickey, and before he could say anything else, he was pulled into the portal, vanishing from the Realm of Darkness, leaving Mark behind. As the portal began to close, Mark’s heart clenched. A single tear slipped from his eye as he whispered to himself, "I’ll be fine, Mickey..."

The tear fell as the Heartless attacked, its large shadowy form crashing into Mark. His body was engulfed by a massive explosion of dark energy, and a dark portal opened beneath him, dragging him in. "Mark!" Mickey’s voice echoed in his mind, but it was too late. He couldn’t reach him. Mark had already fallen into the abyss.

Mark’s Keyblade slipped from his hand as the portal swallowed him whole, and with a final glance at the closing portal Mark looked up at him and gave a smile. "I’m sorry.. Mickey, I might not make it back." Mickey felt his heart wrench. He wanted to go back, he wanted to fight, to help but he knew he couldn’t.

He stood there, trembling, helpless. His gaze remained fixed on the spot where Mark had disappeared, the weight of the moment sinking in. "I’ll keep my word Mark… I promise…" The portal sealed, and Mickey was left in the Realm of Light with nothing but the stars above and the hope that, somehow, his friend would be okay.

Chapter 3: Mysterious Tower & Incas World

Mickey reappeared in the middle of Yen Sid’s tower, the star shard still clutched in his small hands, its glow slowly fading. His breathing was uneven, his mind still racing from what had just happened. Mark was swallowed by the darkness. He didn’t even get the chance to save him. Mickey barely gave himself a moment to compose himself before rushing up the spiral staircase. He pushed open the great doors to Yen Sid’s chamber, his heart pounding. “Master Yen Sid!” Mickey called out, his voice sharp with urgency.

The old sorcerer, who had been seated at his desk, turned his gaze toward Mickey. At first, he remained calm, but as soon as he saw the distressed look in Mickey’s eyes, his own expression shifted. It was rare for Yen Sid to show emotion, but in that moment, something inside him told him that something terrible had happened.

“…Where is Mark?” Yen Sid asked, his voice quiet yet heavy with concern. Mickey hesitated, his hands tightening into fists. He could feel a lump forming in his throat. “He’s gone, Master…” he admitted, his ears drooping. “I couldn’t save him… the darkness took him.” For a moment, silence filled the room. Yen Sid’s eyes widened slightly, and he slowly leaned back in his chair. His lips parted, as if about to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he stood up from his seat, a rare sight. He never left his chair unless the situation was truly dire.

Walking toward one of the crescent-moon-shaped windows, Yen Sid placed his hands behind his back, gazing out into the night sky. His usual stern demeanor cracked, showing genuine sorrow.

“…This cannot be,” he muttered. His voice was quiet but strained, like he was grappling with something deep inside. He took a deep breath before finally speaking again. “Mickey… no one can afford to walk into the darkness as if it is nothing. Not even you.” Mickey stepped forward. “But, Master!”

Yen Sid turned sharply, his expression unwavering. “No, you must listen!” His voice boomed, something Mickey rarely heard from him. “The darkness is not simply an obstacle you can face alone. It is a force that consumes, and Mark has already fallen victim to it. If you were to go after him blindly, you would only be throwing yourself into the abyss as well!” Mickey’s ears flattened, and his tiny fists trembled at his sides. “But I can’t just leave him there! He saved me, he pushed me outta there so I wouldn’t get taken too!” His voice cracked, his frustration and sorrow intertwining.

Yen Sid sighed heavily, his gaze softening, but his words remained firm. “I understand your pain, my student… but you must trust in the light. Rushing into the Realm of Darkness with nothing but your emotions will do no good. If we are to save him, we must be patient.” Mickey gritted his teeth, his whole body tensed. Patience? How could he be patient when his friend was out there, lost, suffering?

He took a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew Yen Sid was right deep down, he knew. But his emotions wouldn’t let him accept it. His grip on the star shard tightened, and before he even realized what he was doing, he threw Mark’s Wayfinder as he turned around and ran. “Mickey!” Yen Sid called out, but the young king didn’t stop. He stormed out of the chamber, his footsteps echoing through the tower’s halls. His vision was blurry with frustration and grief, his mind racing.

He had to do something. He refused to sit and wait while Mark was trapped in the darkness. Mickey rushed out of the tower and into the open air, his breath coming in short, rapid gasps. As he stood outside, trying to gather his thoughts, he suddenly sensed another presence. Standing a short distance away was Terra. The young warrior had just arrived, his face unreadable. He and Mickey locked eyes, but neither of them spoke. There was an unspoken tension between them, but Mickey didn’t have time for questions.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. Instead, he pulled out his Keyblade and gripped the star shard in his other hand. Before Terra could even process what was happening, the shard began to glow, and in a sudden burst of light, Mickey vanished. Terra was left standing there, stunned, staring at the empty space where Mickey had been. Terra stepped through the doors of Yen Sid’s tower, his mind still clouded with uncertainty. His heart was still pounding from the strange encounter with the mouse he had just seen vanish into thin air.

He ascended the long staircase leading to the upper chamber, the air feeling heavier with each step. When he finally entered, he found Yen Sid standing by the crescent-moon window, gazing outward with an expression of deep thought. Terra took a cautious step forward. “Master Yen Sid?” Yen Sid turned, his usual unreadable expression returning, though something in his eyes remained… troubled. “Ah, Terra. What brings you here?” he asked, his voice as calm as ever.

Terra hesitated for a brief moment before speaking. “I… I just saw someone leave. A mouse with a Keyblade and he disappeared with a flash of light. Who was that?” Yen Sid studied Terra carefully before answering. “That was Mickey. He is my student… and the King of Disney Castle.”

Terra’s brow furrowed slightly. He had never heard of this Mickey before, but something about the way Yen Sid spoke of him made it clear that he was more than just a student. Terra pushed the thought aside and took a deep breath. “I came here for advice.” He hesitated, clenching his fists at his sides. “It’s about my darkness.”

Yen Sid’s gaze remained steady, but there was a slight shift in his expression. “I see. You seek guidance regarding the darkness inside you.” Terra nodded. “I can feel it growing stronger. I thought I had control over it, but during my Mark of Mastery exam…” He trailed off, his mind flashing back to that brief, uncontrollable moment when he had unleashed his darkness against Mark. “I let it slip out. I didn’t mean to, but it happened. And because of that… I failed.” Yen Sid remained silent for a moment, contemplating his words. Then, he spoke.

“Darkness is a powerful force, Terra. It can be a path to destruction… or a means to understanding.” He slowly walked back to his desk and sat down. “But it is not something that can be fought by simply resisting it. The more you push it away, the more it will claw back at you.”

Terra swallowed hard. “Then what am I supposed to do? Master Eraqus wants me to push it away, to eliminate it entirely. But Master Xehanort…” He clenched his fists again. “He says I should embrace it.” Yen Sid’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Xehanort. “That man… is not one to be trusted so easily.” Terra flinched slightly at Yen Sid’s tone. “But he’s been guiding me,” Terra defended. “He tells me things that Master Eraqus won’t.”

Yen Sid sighed. “Perhaps… but guidance does not always come with good intentions. You must be careful whom you choose to listen to.” Terra absorbed his words carefully. He still wasn’t sure what to think was darkness truly something he could wield without losing himself? His thoughts drifted for a moment before something else came to mind.

“By the way… where’s Mark?” he asked suddenly. “I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye before he left for here.” Yen Sid’s expression barely changed, but there was a brief flicker of something in his eyes. He clasped his hands together and spoke in a calm, measured tone. “Mark has already departed.” Terra blinked in surprise. “What? But he was just here, wasn’t he?” Yen Sid nodded. “He had an important task to carry out. One that required him to leave at once.” There was something in Yen Sid’s tone that felt… off. Like he was carefully choosing his words.

Terra frowned slightly. “Where did he go?” Yen Sid met Terra’s gaze, his expression unreadable once again. After a long pause, he simply said: “That… is not for you to concern yourself with.” Terra felt his stomach sink. There was definitely something Yen Sid wasn’t telling him. But before he could ask anything else, Yen Sid continued.

“Focus on your own path, Terra. The darkness inside you is not something to be ignored, nor should it be feared. Find balance within yourself.” Terra hesitated, feeling torn. He still felt uneasy about Mark’s sudden disappearance, but he also knew that pressing Yen Sid for answers wouldn’t get him anywhere. So, reluctantly, he let the matter drop. For now.

As the doors to his chamber closed behind Terra, Yen Sid remained seated, his fingers lightly tapping against the desk. His gaze drifted to the center of the room, where the faint traces of Mickey’s magic still lingered. A deep sigh escaped him. He turned his head slightly, his sharp eyes landing on an object that hadn’t been there before Mark’s Wayfinder. It sat alone on his desk, the once-pristine metal gray now marred with a slight chip along its edges. Mickey must have thrown it down in frustration before storming out.

For a moment, Yen Sid simply stared at the small token. A symbol of Mark’s resolve, his connection to those he wished to protect and now, a reminder that he was lost. “Foolish boy…” Yen Sid muttered under his breath, picking up the Wayfinder carefully. He turned it in his hands, running a thumb along the chipped edge. “You are not meant to walk the darkness alone.”

His expression hardened as he reached forward, summoning a swirling orb of light-infused magic above his desk. If Mark was still out there, still fighting, he had to find him. The orb pulsed softly, then began shifting warping to form an image. At first, all that appeared was static, flickering white noise distorting the vision. Yen Sid narrowed his eyes, focusing his energy further.

Through the distortion, he caught glimpses A vast, dark expanse. Mark, barely visible, his form slouched, his Keyblade in hand and he was holding it for dear life. Shadowy figures moving around him looking like they were gonna form up and attack him. A dim glow, flickering like a dying ember.

Then, the static intensified. The image warped, twisted until it shattered entirely. The orb fizzled out, leaving only silence in its wake. Yen Sid’s eyes remained fixed on the space where the vision had been. “The darkness is suppressing my sight…” he murmured, gripping Mark’s Wayfinder tightly. “But I know he still remains.”

With a wave of his hand, he summoned a thin trail of golden light, letting it flow into the Wayfinder. The small star-shaped charm shimmered faintly, but the damage was still evident. Something within it was fractured, perhaps its connection to Mark. Yen Sid closed his eyes. If the Wayfinder could be restored, it might serve as a beacon and a way to guide Mark back. And if not… then Mark’s fate would be left in the hands of the darkness itself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mark panted heavily, gripping his Keyblade tightly. The darkness around him was relentless. The heartless kept swarming, shadows shifting and twisting as they lunged for him. His body ached from the relentless battle, his movements slowing, his magic reserves dwindling.

Then a sharp impact. A massive clawed hand from a Neoshadow struck him across the chest, sending him flying backward. He barely had time to react before he crashed onto the cold, unseen ground below. Pain shot through his entire body.

For a moment, he couldn't move. His vision blurred, his breathing ragged. The Heartless closed in, sensing weakness. "No... I can't..." Then, something inside him ignited. A surge of raw energy erupted from within. His body pulsed with newfound strength as his movements became faster, sharper.

*=====================*
[Mark obtained: Adrenaline Rush ✨]
*=====================*

Mark’s eyes widened as his hands tightened around his Keyblade. His instincts took over, his body moving almost on its own. He launched forward with blinding speed. A single slash tore through five Heartless in an instant. He spun, knocking away a Darkball before it could strike. A surge of magic crackled through his veins as he combined attacks, effortlessly weaving between enemies.

For the first time, he wasn’t just holding his ground, he was overwhelming them. With one final sweeping arc, Mark unleashed a devastating finishing strike, erasing the remaining Heartless. Silence fell. His body trembled as the energy slowly faded. His breathing was unsteady, his limbs heavy. Whatever that power was, it came at a cost.

Slowly, Mark forced himself to stand, wincing from the pain. He placed a hand over his chest and whispered, “Cura.” A soft green light wrapped around him, mending some of his wounds. As the glow faded, he looked around. The landscape was as desolate as before an endless void of darkness stretching in all directions. No sign of an exit. No sign of life. Just him. Alone.

Mark wandered through the darkness, his footsteps barely making a sound against the empty void. The air felt heavy, pressing against him like an unseen force. He had no sense of time. No sense of direction. Only the endless abyss stretching before him.

Then a spark. His Keyblade pulsed faintly in his grip, a small glimmer of light flickering along its surface. Mark stopped, watching the glow intensify for a brief moment before fading again. Something inside him told him to act. Gripping his Keyblade tightly, he held it out with both hands, pointing it forward. For an instant, he saw it. A shimmering, spectral chain extending into the darkness faint, fragile, but unmistakably there. It was like a tether, a link to something beyond the shadows. Mark didn’t hesitate. With a sharp thrust, he struck the chain with his Keyblade. A powerful force yanked him forward.

Darkness swirled around him, twisting and folding as if the very fabric of the realm was collapsing in on itself. The sensation was disorienting, like being pulled through a narrow tunnel at impossible speed. Then light. A rush of color. The scent of fresh air. The feeling of solid ground beneath his feet. Mark stumbled slightly as he arrived in a new world, one vastly different from the abyss he had just left.

Towering a golden temple gleamed under the bright sun, their intricate carvings reflecting a deep cultural artistry. The sky stretched endlessly in a brilliant blue, a stark contrast to the darkness he had just escaped. The distant sounds of bustling villagers filled the air, along with the rhythmic beating of drums and the faint murmur of flowing rivers. Mark took a deep breath, his heart still pounding.

Mark slowly took in his surroundings, still unsure if he was dreaming or if the darkness had finally consumed him. The vibrant colors of the world before him felt like a distant memory, a fleeting glimpse of what light had to offer. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it how could a world like this exist in the realm of darkness?

As he wandered deeper into the village, he saw a trio of elderly townspeople talking in the middle of the street. They were arguing, but in a friendly, almost endearing way, with soft laughter and the occasional playful jab. Mark cautiously approached them. The trio didn’t seem to notice him at first, absorbed in their conversation, but after a few moments, one of them noticed him.

Ipi, a skinny old man dressed in dark brown-orange clothes, was the first to look up. His face was wrinkled, his eyes squinted in curiosity. “You there!” Ipi called, his voice raspy but warm. “A traveler, are ya? Never seen one quite like you before.” Topo, a stout old man dressed in orange, glanced over, lifting his hand in greeting. “Ah, a young lad from far away, eh?” He chuckled softly. “Ain’t many strangers come by here these days.”

Finally, Rudy, a small old man with a blue hat and shirt, who had been leaning on his cane, turned to face Mark, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Not a lot of young folks come to the village. Something brings you here, son?” He studied Mark, squinting for a better look. Mark, still a little unsure of himself and why he was here, took a moment to respond. “Uh, hey there. I was just, uh, exploring. I didn’t expect a place like this to be… here. I thought, uh, everything here was…” Mark trailed off, unsure how to word what he meant without sounding too strange. 

Ipi raised an eyebrow. “Everything here was what, now?” Mark hesitated, trying to phrase his thoughts. “I thought this world might’ve been engulfed in the darkness… you know, like so many others. But it seems... normal, like you all are going about your day.” Topo and Rudy exchanged confused glances. “Engulfed in darkness?” Topo asked. “What do you mean, son? We’ve never had such troubles here. Just living our lives as we always do, with no dark clouds hanging over us.” Rudy nodded, tapping his cane lightly. “We’ve always been fine, haven’t we? Been this way for generations. Ain’t no darkness here, not for us.”

Mark's brows furrowed. The trio didn't seem aware of the world’s potential danger, and he was starting to wonder just how unaware they were of their own reality. It seemed strange. The people here acted like everything was normal almost as if they had no clue about the darkness creeping around the edges of their world.

"Are you sure you're all okay? No strange feelings? No disturbances happening in the village?" Mark pressed gently, trying to make sense of the situation. The trio exchanged puzzled looks. “No, not a thing,” Ipi said, shaking his head. “Everything’s been peaceful.” “You must be hearing things, lad,” Rudy chuckled. “We’ve always lived here in peace. Ain’t no worry about darkness. Just the sun, the rivers, and the good folk in our village.”

Mark stood there for a moment, still feeling that strange disconnect. He didn’t know how to break it to them that their world was most likely on the verge of disaster. How could he explain that? How could he tell them that the realm of darkness had come close to swallowing them whole? He finally sighed, forcing a small smile. "I guess I’m just used to… well, things not being what they seem. But it's good to see a place like this still standing strong."

The trio nodded happily, oblivious to Mark's concerns. "Well, you're welcome here," Ipi said, patting Mark on the shoulder. "Come, sit with us. Have a drink or two. Might help clear your mind." Mark gave a small nod, trying to put aside the worry gnawing at him for the moment. He had more important questions.

"Thanks, but I really need to ask around and figure out a few things. I, uh, might be here for a bit longer than expected." “Fair enough,” Topo said with a hearty laugh. “We’re always around if you need something.” Mark offered a smile. For a moment, he almost felt at ease, but the weight of the unknown still loomed over him. The realm of darkness had touched this world, and he couldn’t ignore that.

Mark tilted his head, absorbing the strange atmosphere of the village. It wasn’t like any place he had encountered before, and despite its calmness, something still felt off about it. He figured he might as well ask the trio more about where he was. "So," Mark began, scratching the back of his neck. "What’s the deal with this place? I mean, it’s peaceful and all, but it feels like there’s a lot more going on behind the scenes."

The old men exchanged glances again, as if they'd heard this question before, and then Ipi chuckled. "Well, if you want to know, this here is the village of Incas, or, at least, that’s what we call it. This world has a strange way of staying out of the chaos. But it’s not like we run the place." Rudy nodded sagely. "No, no, not us. That’s Kuzco, the emperor of this world. He’s in charge. But… well, he’s not exactly what you'd call a humble ruler."

Mark’s curiosity piqued. “An emperor, huh? I imagine he must be powerful then.” Topo let out a small snort. “Powerful, sure, but spoiled. That boy’s got all the riches and power he can ask for, and he thinks the whole world revolves around him. Doesn't care about much beyond what pleases him."

Mark's eyes widened slightly, sensing there was more to this story. "So… this Kuzco, he’s the one in charge around here?" Rudy nodded, adjusting his cane. "Yep, the very same. But let me tell you, Mark, he's got a bad habit of tossing people aside if they get in his way." Rudy paused before adding with a wry grin, "He kicked me out of the palace for a pretty ridiculous reason. Apparently, I threw off his groove." Mark raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure if he was hearing this right. "Threw off his groove?"

Ipi chuckled and added, “You know, the emperor has these strange ideas of what makes him feel in control. You mess with his 'groove,' and well, that’s it. You’re out. Rudy and us old folks live together in the village now. It's simpler, quieter than what it used to be in the palace.” Mark shook his head in disbelief. This Kuzco sounded like a mess. "And he rules the world? What’s the palace like, then? What’s his deal exactly?"

Rudy sighed, tapping his cane against the cobblestone ground. “Oh, the palace was all gold and fancy things, beautiful and grand. But Kuzco? He hardly ever cared about anyone or anything but himself. He thinks his status gives him the right to be cruel, even to the people who serve him. He doesn’t see the big picture." “I’ve heard Kuzco has his good moments,” Topo chimed in, "But they’re few and far between. He’s got a lot to learn."

Mark nodded, now understanding a little more about the world and its ruler. Kuzco might be the emperor, but it sounded like he didn’t really know what it meant to be one. He had a feeling the balance of this world was a little off after all, who would throw out loyal subjects just because they disrupted their "groove"? “Well, I guess every place has its quirks," Mark muttered, looking around the village again. "But if Kuzco's in charge, I’m guessing there’s more to this world than what it looks like. Maybe I'll go have a word with him.”

Rudy let out a dry laugh. “Good luck with that, kid. If you can get to him, that’s already a victory in my book. Just watch your step. He doesn’t take too kindly to strangers, especially ones with too many questions.” Mark gave a small grin. “Well, I’ve been through worse.” As he stood there, his mind wandered to what Kuzco might be like in person. If the emperor was really as spoiled and out of touch as the old men suggested, Mark might have a challenge ahead of him. But that was nothing new.

"Thanks for the info, guys. I think I’ll check out the palace and see what this emperor is really about," Mark said with determination, turning to walk in the direction of the palace. The trio waved him off, each offering their own little piece of advice. “Take it easy on Kuzco, kid," Ipi called out. "You’ll be in for a wild ride.” Mark smiled back, feeling a little more confident as he walked toward the palace

Mark approached the palace cautiously, his eyes scanning the towering structure before him. The grand golden gates loomed above, a stark contrast to the simplicity of the village he had just left behind. As he walked, he felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him, the uncertainty of what he'd find in the palace and, more importantly, who Kuzco really was. Before he could reach the gates, two guards stepped forward, blocking his path.

The guards were unlike any Mark had seen before. Their bodies were painted in bold, vibrant colors blue on the left side and red on the right, creating an almost tribal look. The designs weren’t just painted on; they were meticulously done, stretching from their heads down to their feet in smooth, even strokes. Their eyes were fierce and watchful, clearly trained to uphold the emperor’s authority at any cost. "State your business," one of the guards growled, his voice low and firm. His posture was rigid, and his hand rested on the spear he carried, a clear sign that they weren’t just here to chat.

Mark raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture, the Keyblade vanishing from his side as he decided to avoid any unnecessary escalation. "I’m just here to speak with the emperor. I’ve got some questions for him." The second guard eyed Mark skeptically, his hand tightening around the shaft of his spear. "The emperor does not entertain visitors without proper clearance. You’ll need to turn around and leave."

Mark narrowed his eyes slightly, noting the guards' serious demeanor. He could tell right away that these men were fiercely loyal to Kuzco, no matter how unreasonable he might be. Still, he couldn’t back down now. "I don’t think you understand. I’m not here to cause trouble," Mark said, his voice steady, though he could feel the tension rising. "I just need to speak with Kuzco. I’m not leaving without an answer."

The first guard’s eyes flicked to the other, and the second guard’s lips curled into a slight frown. Clearly, they weren’t used to someone standing their ground so firmly, especially not someone like Mark who didn’t appear to be intimidated by them or the palace. "We follow the orders of Kuzco. He doesn’t entertain every passerby who thinks they deserve an audience," the second guard grumbled, stepping forward.

Mark sighed, realizing that if he didn’t handle this carefully, he’d never get anywhere. "Listen, I understand that Kuzco’s important, but you have to understand, I’m not from around here. Something’s off in this world, and I need answers. If I don’t get them from him, I’m sure I’ll find someone else who knows what’s going on."

For a moment, the two guards exchanged looks, sizing Mark up. They seemed to hesitate, unsure if they should press the issue or let him go. Finally, the first guard spoke again, his tone softer this time, but still guarded. "Very well. You can see him, but be warned. The emperor has no time for those who waste it. You’ll have to prove you’re worthy of his attention."

Mark nodded, knowing this wouldn’t be easy, but feeling resolute. "I’m ready. Let me through." The guards stepped aside reluctantly, still eyeing Mark with suspicion as he passed through the gates and entered the palace grounds. The interior of the palace was just as grand as he had imagined, filled with gold and intricate decorations. The walls shimmered with rich tapestries, and the scent of incense lingered in the air. But despite the opulence, Mark couldn’t shake the feeling that the world around him was far more broken than it appeared.

As Mark walked deeper into the palace, he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of ruler Kuzco was and what he would be like when they met. If these guards were any indication, he wasn’t going to be dealing with someone who would be easy to reason with.

The palace stretched before him, but the heavy silence told him he wasn’t yet close to the emperor. Mark’s eyes darted around, the guards keeping a watchful eye on him as he moved through the halls, but his mind was focused solely on what would come next. Would Kuzco be as spoiled and dismissive as everyone had said? Would he be open to a conversation, or would he simply throw Mark out like the rest of his kingdom? Mark was about to find out.

Mark walked cautiously through the halls of the palace, his senses heightened, trying to remain as unnoticed as possible. The grand architecture of the place felt like an oppressive weight luxurious but cold, every step echoing off the marble floors. As he rounded a corner, the loud sound of a door slamming caught his attention, followed by raised voices. Mark stepped closer, curious to find the source of the commotion.

Inside a grand, ornately decorated office, Kuzco stood behind a massive desk, looking as confident and imperious as ever. His robes, golden and rich in color, shimmered under the light. Across from him stood Yzma, an older woman with a cold, sharp expression, and Kronk, a large, well-built man, though his earnest, somewhat dopey expression made him seem out of place in the palace.

"You’re fired!" Kuzco said, his tone as pompous as ever, with an exaggerated gesture dismissing Yzma. The way he threw his hands out almost looked theatrical, like a performance rather than an actual decision. Yzma’s eyes narrowed. "What?! Fired! What do you mean?!" she demanded, her voice sharp and cutting. "You can’t fire me! I’ve been your advisor for years!" Kuzco was unfazed, snapped his fingers as he looked at her. "I can, I have and I will. Um, how else can I say it? You're being let go. Your department's being downsized. You're part of an outplacement. We're going in a different direction. We're not picking up your option. You’ve been nothing but trouble. Always trying to overthrow me! I don’t need a nagging advisor. I’m my own emperor, and you’re too old to be working, Take your pick. I got more.."

Yzma seethed, but before she could retort, Kronk, who had been standing behind her, took a few slow, awkward steps forward. "Well... I’m, uh, gonna go too." His voice was filled with uncertainty as he looked down at the ground, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Yeah, I'm gonna go with Yzma. I mean, it’s not like I was getting any work done here anyway." He chuckled nervously, but when he noticed Mark standing in the doorway, his eyes widened. "Oh hey, um... didn’t see you there!"

Mark, who had been watching the scene unfold, was caught off guard by Kronk’s sudden greeting. He hadn’t expected anyone to notice him so quickly, especially during such a tense moment. Despite the awkwardness, he returned a casual wave. "Hey there," Mark said, offering a small smile.

Kronk grinned widely, his big muscles almost comical in contrast to his gentle demeanor. "You seem nice! We’re just, uh, heading out. Yzma’s getting fired is pretty dramatic, huh?" Mark nodded, trying to keep the situation light. "Sounds like it. Good luck out there." He wasn’t sure what to make of Yzma and Kronk just yet, but something about their odd dynamic piqued his curiosity.

"Thanks!" Kronk said with a thumbs up, and with that, he followed Yzma out of the room, who was muttering angrily under her breath. As they exited, Mark was left standing in the doorway, wondering about the strange pair and what exactly had just happened. He turned his attention back to Kuzco, who had returned to his seat at the desk, his smug expression seemingly unchanged despite the chaos that just unfolded.

Mark wasn’t sure what to make of it, but one thing was clear: this emperor was not your average ruler. Mark stood just inside the grand office, trying to muster his patience as Kuzco ignored him, his back turned as he played with some trinkets on his desk. The emperor clearly didn’t seem interested in hearing anything Mark had to say.

Mark shifted from one foot to the other, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness. "Hey, I really think you should listen to me." He stepped forward, hoping to get his attention. "I’m not here to make trouble, Kuzco. I’m just trying to help you." Kuzco’s shoulders tensed slightly, but he didn’t turn around. "Help? I’m the emperor here. I don’t need help from some random stranger." His voice was full of self-importance, dismissive of Mark’s presence.

Mark’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, trying to keep calm, but the longer Kuzco brushed him off, the harder it became. "I’m a Keyblade Master, I trained under Master Yensid," he said through gritted teeth. "This isn’t just some ‘random stranger’ business. I’m here because this world, your world is in possible danger. And I’m the only one who can help you protect it." Still, Kuzco didn’t look at him. "Danger? From what? I'm doing just fine. Everything’s under control here." He turned and waved dismissively, his voice oozing arrogance. "You’re just wasting your time. Go bother someone else."

Mark stood there, staring at him, the frustration bubbling over. This wasn’t how he imagined it would go. The whole point of him being here at least part of it was to help Kuzco, but the emperor was so wrapped up in himself, so blinded by his own ego, that he couldn’t even see the danger looming over his world. “This is exactly what I’m talking about!” Mark snapped, his voice rising. “I’m trying to help you! I’ve got no clue why I ended up here in your world. I didn’t even know worlds could take form in the Realm of Darkness, but I’m doing my best to figure this out, and you’re just… acting like nothing matters!”

His frustration was too much to hold in anymore. Mark took a few steps forward, his eyes flashing with anger. "I didn’t come here for you to act like a spoiled brat, Kuzco. I came here because I’m trying to save your world, and you’re making it harder than it needs to be." Kuzco finally turned, eyes narrowing, a sneer on his face. “Well, maybe I don’t need saving. Maybe you should just go find someone who cares about your title as a ‘Keyblade Master’ and your helpful little quest. You're not even supposed to be here in the first place. According to yourself you sound crazy.”

The words stung, and Mark could feel his heart racing in frustration. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The whole situation was so ridiculous. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. He was just trying to get through this mess so he could help save worlds, to prevent whatever dark force threatened them all. But Kuzco was too blinded by his pride to see anything beyond his own arrogance.

Mark’s hands clenched, his face red with fury. His heart was boiling with anger, but somehow, he held himself back. The last thing he wanted was to lose control in front of the emperor. He took a deep breath, staring hard at Kuzco one last time. “I’m done trying to talk to you,” Mark muttered, voice tight. “You can figure it out on your own if you want, but I’m not sticking around for this.” He turned sharply on his heel, not waiting for Kuzco to say anything else. He was done with the emperor’s self-absorbed attitude. But as he made his way toward the door, he heard Kuzco’s voice once more, calling out in a mocking tone.

“Good luck, Keyblade Master! I’m sure you’ll figure out how to ‘save the worlds’ or whatever you’re calling it these days.” That was it. Mark stopped in his tracks, his temper flaring again. He felt like he could snap, just walk back in there and scream at the top of his lungs, but he couldn’t. He had to be better than that. Still, his fists were trembling, and he barely resisted the urge to throw something, his mind racing with thoughts of everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.

Mark turned his back to the emperor, leaving the room quickly but not before he slammed the door with an angry thud. As he stormed out of the palace, the weight of the moment hit him. He didn’t ask for any of this. He didn’t ask to be sent to this strange world, to be stuck here in this endless mess of confusion. He didn’t ask to become the world’s protector. But here he was, stuck in the middle of it all, trying to do the right thing. Even if the emperor didn’t care.

As Mark stormed out of the palace, the anger still burning in his chest, he heard a strange sound behind him. It was faint at first, but quickly grew louder the unmistakable sound of something being disturbed. He spun on his heels, just in time to see a cluster of Heartless materialize near Kuzco. The emperor was so caught up in his own world that he didn’t notice them at first, but when one of the Heartless reached out and poked at his crown, Kuzco let out a sharp, terrified scream. “What the?!” Kuzco shouted, immediately looking up to find the Heartless swarming around him.

Mark didn’t waste a moment. His body moved on instinct, his gaze narrowing as he reached for his Keyblade. He couldn’t let the emperor just stand there, helpless. With a quick flick of his wrist, Mark reappeared and summoned his Keyblade in a burst of light. "Guess I’m not done yet,” Mark muttered under his breath as he swung his Keyblade toward the approaching Heartless, his magic building up.

“Firaga!” he shouted, releasing a blast of fire toward the Heartless, igniting several of them. Explosions rang out as the fire engulfed them, but there were still more. Gravira came next Mark slammed his Keyblade into the ground, and a powerful gravity pull forced the remaining Heartless into a tight cluster, allowing him to follow up with a thunderous strike. “Thundara!” The lightning shot from his Keyblade, cracking through the air and frying the Heartless in one fell swoop. Kuzco, who had been watching in stunned silence, blinked and raised an eyebrow. “Not bad, stranger.”

Mark gritted his teeth, still holding off the last of the Heartless. It wasn’t over yet. The group of Heartless had started to gather again, and Mark was growing tired of playing defense. He needed to end this. His heart raced as he activated Thunderweaver. Sparks of electricity crackled around him, and his whole body seemed to hum with the power. He leapt into the air, twirling his Keyblade, lightning crackling around him with every turn.

Right Spin Swing, then a Thunder Rush as he vaulted through the air, cutting through the Heartless with his Keyblade. He spun again, adding a Left Spin Swing, and with one final move, he slammed his Keyblade into the ground, sending out a Pulse Blast that surged through the enemies, completely obliterating them. The final explosion sent a shockwave through the area. The Heartless were gone, their remnants evaporating into the air.

*=================*
[ Mark Learned: Thundaga✨ ]
*=================*

Mark, panting but relieved, slowly landed, his body still buzzing from the power surge. He wiped the sweat from his brow, looking up to see Kuzco standing there, mouth slightly agape. “Well, you’re not completely useless.” Kuzco’s voice was begrudging, but there was a hint of awe in it. He stared at Mark with something that almost resembled respect until the emperor smirked again. “But seriously, enough of this.”

Kuzco waved his hand dismissively. “Out. You’ve caused enough trouble for one day.” He motioned toward the door with a nonchalant gesture. "I'm done with you." Mark’s face tightened with irritation, his patience worn thin. He didn’t even feel like arguing anymore. He had helped, and now Kuzco was kicking him out. Typical. “Fine,” Mark muttered, rolling his eyes. “I’ll take my leave, then. Don’t say I didn’t help you out, though.”

With that, Mark stormed out of the palace once more, the heavy wooden doors slamming shut behind him. Kuzco didn’t even look up from his throne as Mark left, too self-absorbed to even acknowledge the help he’d been given. Mark’s steps echoed down the hall as he made his way outside, his fists still clenched at his sides. He didn’t care about what Kuzco thought of him. He had done what he came here to do. But deep down, he knew it was just one small victory in a much bigger battle.

As Mark walked away from the palace, he wandered toward the back, trying to find some peace after the ordeal with Kuzco. He didn’t expect much to come of it, but the world felt strange, and his thoughts were still swirling. His mind was occupied with figuring out how to leave, how to return to the realm of darkness and continue his mission.

Just as he passed near the kitchens, he heard quiet whispers at first, then clearer as he moved closer to the source. “Kronk, get over here!” Yzma’s voice was sharp, full of irritation and malice. Mark instinctively stopped in his tracks, his curiosity piqued. He leaned closer, trying to stay out of sight as he crept along the outer edge of the kitchen. He peeked around the corner, just enough to catch a glimpse of the figures inside.

Yzma stood over a small table, her eyes glowing with a twisted sense of satisfaction. Kronk, the big, lovable, but clearly conflicted man, stood awkwardly near her, holding a vial of something. It was clear from the way he stood, his shoulders hunched and his head low, that he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about the plan. “Ah, how shall I do it? Oh, I know. I'll turn him into a flea, a harmless, little flea, and then I'll put that flea in a box, and then I'll put that box inside of another box, and then I'll mail that box to myself, and when it arrives… I'll smash it with a hammer! It's brilliant, brilliant, brilliant, I tell you! Genius, I say!” She cackles as she knocks over a bottle of poison on a flower, which shrivels up and dies. “Or, to save on postage, I'll just poison him with this!”

“Now listen, Kronk,” Yzma began, her voice low but intense, “we’re going to put Kuzco to sleep forever. Once he’s out of the picture, the throne will be ours.” Kronk shifted uncomfortably, looking at the vial in his hand. He clearly didn’t like the sound of it. “Yzma, are you sure this is the right thing to do?” Kronk asked, his voice lacking confidence. “I mean… Kuzco’s not the nicest guy, but he’s still the emperor, right?” He scratched the back of his head, looking uncertain. Yzma shot him an icy glare. “Of course it’s the right thing to do.” She snapped. “He’s a spoiled brat, and the only way we’ll get what’s rightfully ours is to remove him from the throne permanently.” Kronk hesitated, his gaze dropping to the vial again. “But Yzma… he’s a person, too.” He fidgeted nervously. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

Yzma slammed her hands onto the table, her eyes burning with impatience. “It’s too late for you to get cold feet now, Kronk. We’re already this far! The potion will knock him out cold, and he won’t even know what hit him.” Kronk’s shoulders sagged. He was clearly torn, but it was obvious that Yzma’s power over him had him cornered. “I guess so…” he muttered reluctantly, still not convinced but too afraid to argue further.

Mark stood there for a moment, his heart heavy. This was bad. The emperor, for all his flaws, didn’t deserve to be taken out this way, and it seemed like Yzma was on the verge of committing a terrible crime in the name of greed. Suddenly, Yzma’s voice sliced through his thoughts. “Kronk, make sure this goes according to plan. We can’t afford any slip-ups.” She gave him a commanding look. Kronk nodded weakly. “Got it, Yzma.”

Mark felt a cold sense of dread crawl up his spine. He couldn’t let this happen. He needed to warn Kuzco, and somehow, he needed to figure out how to stop Yzma’s plot before it was too late. Without thinking much further, Mark stepped back from the corner, moving quickly to leave the kitchen unnoticed. As he made his way toward the palace once again, his mind raced, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders.

He was the only one who could stop this. But how could he do it when no one, not even Kuzco believed in him? As Mark tried to turn back toward the palace, thinking he could get another shot at talking to Kuzco and stopping Yzma’s plans, the door suddenly burst open. The guards, tall and intimidating, stepped in front of him, their expressions cold.

Before Mark could even react, they grabbed him roughly by the arms and started dragging him out. “Hey! Let go of me!” Mark protested, but the guards didn’t listen, continuing to pull him through the halls. His heart raced as he tried to resist, but their grip was too strong, and his energy was beginning to wane from earlier battles. With a hard shove, the guards threw him out of the palace. He stumbled, catching himself before hitting the ground. The doors slammed shut behind him, leaving him outside, feeling more lost than ever.

Mark took a few deep breaths, frustration bubbling up. He couldn’t just stand there. He had to find a way to warn Kuzco, but before he could figure out what to do next, a voice broke through the silence. “Hey, are you alright?” A man appeared, tall and rugged with a kind face. He was carrying a heavy pack and had a weathered but warm expression. Mark looked up, a bit startled. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” He dusted himself off and stood up straighter. “Just... thrown out of the palace, I guess.”

“What happened?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked concerned but also genuinely curious. Mark hesitated, not sure how to explain things. “Well... I tried talking to Kuzco, tried to help him out, but he’s not exactly the type to listen to anyone.” The man nodded as if he understood. “Yeah, I get it. He’s stubborn, alright.” He paused, then smiled gently. “You’re not from around here, huh? You seem... lost.” Mark shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” He sighed. “I was sent to this world for something, but I don’t know what it is.”

The man studied him for a moment before nodding again. “Alright, well, if you’re looking for somewhere to stay, you can come with me. I have a family nearby. I’m Pacha.” He extended a hand toward Mark. Mark raised an eyebrow. Pacha’s offer was genuine, but he wasn’t sure what to expect. After a beat, Mark accepted the handshake. “Thanks. I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Pacha smiled warmly. “No problem. But you’ll have to wait for me a bit while I talk to Kuzco.” Mark nodded, his exhaustion catching up with him. “Sure, I’ll wait.”

After some time, Pacha came back, looking a little weary but still as kind as before. Mark stood up, ready to follow. “Alright, let’s go.” Pacha led the way, and Mark followed, unsure of what to expect next. They arrived at Pacha’s home, a humble but cozy place surrounded by greenery. Pacha’s family greeted them as soon as they arrived. Chaca, the oldest child, rushed over to her father and hugged him. She was about 8-10 years old, with a playful energy that made Mark smile for the first time in a while.

“Hey, Chaca, this is Mark. He’s staying with us for a bit.” Pacha introduced, and Chaca gave him a curious look but quickly accepted him with a polite nod. The youngest, Tipo, ran over next, a ball of energy, his wild hair making him seem even more full of life. He grinned up at Mark. “Do you like bugs? I eat bugs sometimes!” he said proudly, showing off his adventurous side. “I… uh, I don’t think I eat bugs, buddy.” Mark chuckled, trying to keep up with the boy’s enthusiasm.

Just then, Chicha, Pacha’s wife, came out of the house. She was pregnant, her belly a gentle curve, but still managed to move with grace and warmth. “Pacha, you’re back!” she said, smiling at her husband. “And who’s this?” Pacha smiled back and introduced Mark. “This is Mark. He’s going to stay with us for a while.” Chicha’s eyes softened. “It’s always good to help others. Come inside, Mark. You’re probably hungry.” As they entered the house, Chicha’s warmth radiated through the home. She had a calm presence, offering Mark a seat at the table. “Make yourself at home. Let me know if you need anything.”

Pacha quickly set down his pack and gestured toward the children. “These two keep us on our toes, especially Tipo.” He winked as Tipo made a face, still excitedly talking about bugs. “We’re getting ready for a new baby, too.” Chicha added, rubbing her belly. “So things are busy around here.” Mark nodded, feeling a sense of relief at being around people who seemed to genuinely care. It wasn’t much, but this family felt like a safe place for a little while, and for now, that was enough. As they ate and talked, Chicha’s jokes lightened the mood.

As the evening grew darker, the conversation inside Pacha’s home began to slow down, and the warm atmosphere of family life settled around them. Pacha stood up from the table and turned to his wife, Chicha, with a smile. "I’m going to step outside for a bit, just to check on things," he said, rubbing his hands together. "I’ll be right back."

Chicha nodded, her hands busy with tidying up. "Alright, just don’t stay out too long," she said with a knowing smile. "Mark, would you mind keeping an eye on him for me?" Mark, who had been quietly absorbing the conversations around him, stood up and nodded. "Sure thing," he said, feeling a sense of responsibility, especially since it seemed like everyone had a role to play in this household.

Pacha headed out the door, and Mark followed, not too far behind. The night air was crisp, and the quiet of the mountains surrounded them. They walked for a bit, the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet the only sound. After a few minutes, Pacha stopped and looked around, his brow furrowing slightly. "You know, Mark, I can’t help but feel like everything’s going to get more complicated soon. Kuzco… he’s such a stubborn one. I just don’t know how to handle him."

Mark looked up at him, a little uncertain. "Yeah, he didn’t seem very open to advice when I spoke with him earlier," he said. "But that’s the thing. Sometimes, people have to learn things on their own." Pacha sighed, looking down the mountain road. "I hope you’re right. He’s the emperor, and he doesn’t listen to anyone… especially not me. But I can’t help but care about what happens to him."

Mark was about to respond when something caught his attention. Pacha’s gaze turned sharply toward a cart near the side of the path. A brown sack was slightly open, and as Pacha moved closer, his eyes widened in disbelief. He reached out, grabbing the sack and pulling it open. Inside, to Mark’s shock, was a llama but not just any llama. This llama was distinctly Kuzco. It had the same sharp eyes, the same posture, and a familiar royal air about it.

"Pacha, what the..." Mark began, but Pacha’s face turned pale, his eyes darting back and forth in panic. "Kuzco?!" Pacha gasped. "What happened to you?" To their surprise, the llama spoke, its voice just as familiar as it had been in human form. "I’m fine, okay? Just... just leave me alone. I don't need anyone’s help." Mark stared at the llama, slack-jawed, completely stunned. "Wait a minute... Kuzco? You’re a llama?"

Kuzco snorted and flicked his tail dismissively. "Yeah, I’m a llama, genius. Got a problem with it?" His voice was as stubborn as ever, still refusing to accept his situation. Pacha, clearly panicking, started pacing around in circles. "What are we going to do?!" Mark put a hand on Pacha’s shoulder to calm him. "We need to get Kuzco back to the palace, but first, we need to figure out how to change him back."

Pacha looked at Kuzco, who was already walking away, clearly trying to get as far from them as possible. "Kuzco, wait!" Pacha called out, rushing to catch up, but Kuzco didn’t slow down. Mark noticed Pacha’s frustration building, and he stepped forward, stopping him with a hand. "Pacha, I’ll go after him. Let me handle this." Pacha looked reluctant. "But... I don’t want him going off on his own, not like this."

Mark gave him a reassuring smile. "I understand, but Kuzco’s stubborn. He’s not going to listen to us right now. I’ll make sure he gets back to the palace safely." Pacha hesitated, his concern for both his family and Kuzco clear in his eyes. Finally, after a long pause, he nodded. "Alright, Mark. But please... keep an eye on him. He might be a pain, but he’s still the emperor."

Mark gave a firm nod. "I’ll take care of it. You head back to the family; I’ve got this." Pacha reluctantly turned back toward his home, but he cast one last worried glance toward Mark, who had already started walking after Kuzco. Mark wasn’t sure what he was walking into. Kuzco was still in his llama form, his stubbornness unshaken. "You don’t have to do this," Mark said as he approached the llama. "We can figure something out together."

Kuzco turned his head and glared at Mark, his sharp eyes not softened by his new form. "I don’t need help from anyone!" He snorted and tried to walk away faster. Mark sighed, shaking his head. Kuzco wasn’t making this easy, but Mark wasn’t about to give up on him. He was going to make sure Kuzco got back safely, even if it meant dragging him back to the palace by his llama ears. No matter how stubborn Kuzco was, Mark was determined to help him.

The dense jungle around them was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves as a breeze passed through. Mark and Kuzco trudged through the thick foliage, the path narrowing as they moved deeper into the jungle. Mark tried to keep an eye on Kuzco, who, despite being in llama form, was still remarkably agile and stubborn, clearly eager to distance himself from the situation.

"I’m telling you, Kuzco, this isn’t the best idea," Mark said, trying to keep pace with the stubborn emperor. But Kuzco barely paid attention, shaking his mane defiantly. Suddenly, the jungle was filled with a low growl, the air growing thick with tension. Before Mark could react, Heartless emerged from the shadows, their black forms creeping toward them from all directions. They had appeared so suddenly, Mark barely had time to prepare.

With a swift motion, Mark summoned his Keyblade and took a fighting stance. The Heartless charged, their yellow eyes gleaming with malice. Mark's heart raced, but he remained calm, focusing on the battle ahead. Without hesitation, he raised his Keyblade and unleashed a fiery Firaga spell. Flames erupted from the tip of his blade, surrounding the Heartless in an inferno of heat and power. The Heartless screamed as they were consumed by the fire, falling to the ground in a heap of dark energy.

Mark took a deep breath, surveying the area to make sure no more Heartless were lurking. He was about to relax when he noticed Kuzco was gone. Panic crept into Mark’s chest. He darted his eyes around the jungle, but there was no sign of the emperor. "Kuzco?" Mark called out, his voice carrying through the trees. "Where are you?" There was no answer. Mark clenched his fists, frustration bubbling inside him. He’d been so focused on the Heartless that he hadn’t noticed Kuzco slipping away.

As Mark began to move through the jungle in search of Kuzco, he heard rustling in the underbrush. He turned quickly, his grip tightening around his Keyblade. But it wasn’t Kuzco. Instead, Pacha appeared through the trees, his face filled with concern. "Mark! I saw you from the path, what’s going on?" Pacha asked, scanning the area. Mark let out a relieved sigh, though his worry still lingered. "I lost Kuzco. After the fight with the Heartless, he just... ran off." Pacha’s face softened with understanding. "That sounds like Kuzco alright. Always running off when things get tough." He paused, glancing at Mark. "We’ll find him. Come on, let’s go look for him."

Mark nodded, grateful for Pacha’s calm presence. The two of them moved deeper into the jungle, calling out for Kuzco, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Mark was determined to find him, no matter how difficult it might be. They pushed through thick vines and trees, their journey made more challenging by the dense foliage.

Despite the frustration of the situation, Mark couldn’t help but appreciate Pacha’s steady resolve. Even though things were chaotic, Pacha remained the calm and thoughtful one, and Mark found that reassuring. "Don’t worry, we’ll find him," Pacha said, trying to ease Mark’s anxiety. "Kuzco’s more trouble than he’s worth, but he’s never far off when there’s a problem to solve." Mark managed a small smile. "I hope you’re right. He’s tough to keep track of sometimes, though."

As the two of them continued searching through the jungle, Mark’s thoughts kept returning to Kuzco stubborn, proud, but still someone who needed help. Mark was going to make sure the emperor didn’t get himself into more trouble. As the sun began to set, the jungle around them grew darker and more foreboding. Pacha looked up at the sky, his brow furrowed with worry. "We should stop for tonight," he said, his voice weary from the search. "It’s getting too late to keep going. We’ll pick up again in the morning."

Mark hesitated, his determination to find Kuzco still burning bright. He was tired, but his worry for the stubborn emperor made it hard to give up. "We can’t stop yet," Mark said, his voice firm. "Kuzco’s out there somewhere." Pacha sighed, a hint of understanding in his eyes. "I get it, Mark. But it’s dark, and we’re not going to find him if we don’t have a clear head. Let’s rest, and we’ll look again at first light."

Mark reluctantly nodded. They found a small clearing in the jungle, where they set up a makeshift shelter. They used large leaves as a roof and gathered sticks to make a basic structure, creating a little fortress against the night. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. As the night fell around them, the sounds of the jungle took over, the soft rustling of leaves and the calls of distant creatures. They lay down in their improvised shelter, the cool air of the jungle brushing against their faces.

The next morning, they were up at the crack of dawn, searching for Kuzco once again. The jungle was quieter in the morning light, the sun filtering through the canopy above them. They moved quickly, following the winding paths, but there was still no sign of the emperor. Then, as they ventured deeper, they finally found Kuzco. He was standing near the edge of a steep ravine, looking down with an expression of hesitation and defiance. Pacha’s heart lifted when he saw the emperor, but it was clear that Kuzco still had no intention of cooperating. "We’ve been looking all over for you!" Pacha called out, relief mixed with frustration. Kuzco turned, his stubbornness clearly visible.

"I wasn’t lost," Kuzco replied, his tone dismissive. "I just didn’t want to deal with any of you." He flicked his tail and tried to step away, but Pacha stepped forward, blocking his path. "We need to get back to the village," Pacha said firmly. "You can’t keep running off like this." Mark glanced at the bridge ahead of them, a rickety structure made of vines and wooden planks, leading toward the village on the other side of the ravine. "We can cross the bridge and get to the village," Mark suggested. Pacha nodded. "Kuzco, you go first."

But Kuzco wasn’t having it. "No way. You’re just going to push me off that thing, aren’t you? Not a chance," he snapped, glaring at the bridge. Pacha sighed and turned to Mark. "Alright, you go first then." Mark nodded, and with a deep breath, he stepped onto the bridge. The vines creaked under his weight, but it held strong as he carefully crossed to the other side. When he reached the safety of the other side, he turned to give Kuzco an encouraging look.

Kuzco, however, was not convinced. He eyed the bridge suspiciously, his eyes narrowed. "I’m not going across that rickety old thing," he said stubbornly. Pacha was done trying to convince him. With a determined look, he grabbed Kuzco and tried to force him onto the bridge. "You’re going to cross, whether you like it or not," Pacha grunted. But Kuzco wasn’t going down without a fight. He bucked and wriggled, trying to break free from Pacha’s grip. "Get off me! I’m not crossing that bridge!" he yelled, panicking.

The struggle escalated quickly. The bridge swayed violently under their fighting, the vines creaking dangerously. Mark yelled out to them, trying to warn them to stop. "You need to calm down! You’re going to break it!" But it was too late. The vines snapped, sending the bridge into a frenzy. The wooden planks splintered, and before anyone could react, the whole thing gave way. The three of them plunged toward the ravine, screaming as they fell.

In a frantic flurry, the remaining vines from the bridge caught them, snagging them mid-fall. The three of them dangled precariously from the vines, the rush of the stream below them roaring in the distance. Pacha and Kuzco struggled, fighting against the vines that held them together, their panic growing. Mark tried to reach them, but it was hard to get close enough to help. "Stop! Both of you, stop!" Mark shouted, trying to calm them down. But the fight didn’t stop. The vine holding them snapped suddenly, and the two men plummeted into the rushing water below, the current pulling them away.

Mark watched in horror as the scene unfolded. The whole situation had gotten completely out of hand, and now they were in even more danger. As they were swept downstream, Pacha managed to grab onto a floating log with Kuzco clinging to his side. Mark quickly realized there wasn’t much he could do at this moment. Pacha, still holding on to the log, called up to Mark, his voice strained but calm. "Mark! Head to the village! There’s nothing you can do here. Go, we’ll manage."

Mark looked at them, torn. He couldn’t leave Pacha and Kuzco behind, but he knew there wasn’t a lot of time left. Reluctantly, Mark nodded and backed away. "I’ll get help," he promised, already turning to leave. There was no time to waste. He couldn’t afford to let the village be at risk while they were still out here. With one last glance at Pacha and Kuzco, Mark set off toward the village

A few hours had passed since Mark left Pacha and Kuzco in the jungle, and the entire village seemed quiet as he made his way through the town. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The streets were eerily empty, and there was no sign of Kuzco or Pacha anywhere. The entire village felt… off. Determined to find them, Mark headed straight to the palace, hoping he might be able to find answers. He slipped past the guards, using his quiet footwork to sneak in unnoticed. Once inside, he took cover in a nearby hallway and listened carefully. He overheard whispers, and the tension in the air was palpable.

"You heard, right?" a voice spoke low. "Yzma’s the new emperor now." Mark’s heart skipped a beat as he processed what he just heard. Yzma? The idea of her ruling the empire was absurd. But it wasn’t a rumor; it was true. Yzma had taken control, and now it seemed that things were about to get worse.

Before Mark could fully comprehend what was happening, he heard a commotion coming from further down the hall. Kuzco and Pacha’s voices were unmistakable, and they were arguing loudly. Mark hurried to the source of the noise, keeping his movements quick and quiet. As he rounded a corner, he saw a Heartless appear from the shadows, it's dark form emerging and attacking Kuzco and Pacha.

Without hesitation, Mark summoned his Keyblade. He launched a Firaga, swirling a fiery blast at the Heartless. The creature staggered back but didn’t go down. Mark quickly shifted to his next spell, Gravira, and the Heartless was pulled downward, pinned to the ground by the force of gravity. But it wasn’t enough to end the fight.

The Heartless screeched, trying to crawl away, but Mark wasn’t finished. He called on Thundaga, and many bolts of lightning crackled across the room, striking the creature and finishing it off with a blast of electricity. The Heartless was vanquished, and Mark stood, panting but satisfied with his work. "That was close," Kuzco said, breathing heavily as he adjusted his crown, his attitude still unbothered by the near-death experience. Pacha, ever the protective one, looked around cautiously. "We need to move quickly. Let’s go."

The three of them ran through the palace hallways, eventually sneaking into Yzma’s secret lab, hidden deep within the palace’s twisting corridors. Mark kept a watchful eye, guarding the entrance as Kuzco and Pacha searched for the potion that could return Kuzco to his human form. The room was cluttered with various vials, ingredients, and ancient-looking machines. Kuzco and Pacha began rifling through the shelves, searching for the right potion, while Mark kept his attention focused on the door, listening for any sign of Yzma or her guards.

Mark, Kuzco, and Pacha stopped in their tracks, hearts sinking as they saw Yzma emerge from the shadows, holding a small vial in her hand. It gleamed in the dim light of the secret lab, its contents a bright, shimmering liquid. "Looking for this?" Yzma smirked, holding up the vial of human extract. The air in the room went still. Kuzco, Mark, and Pacha all gasped, their eyes widening in disbelief.

"No!" Kuzco shouted, his voice cracking with panic. "It can't be! How did you get back here before us?" His frustration was evident, but so was his confusion. He couldn't fathom how Yzma had gotten here first, especially after all they'd been through. Yzma paused, a little too pleased with herself. "Uh..." She looked at Kronk, as if searching for an answer herself. "How did we, Kronk?" she asked, turning to her loyal though often bumbling henchman.

Kronk scratched his head, genuinely perplexed. "Well, ya got me," he said with a shrug, holding up a map that showed the two parties' trails. "By all accounts, it doesn't make sense." The map depicted Yzma’s and Kronk’s path, with an obvious detour a fall down a canyon halfway through their journey.

Yzma raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable for a moment. "Oh, well." She let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly dismissing any further concern over the absurdity of it all. "Back to business." With the vial still in her hand, she looked back at them with a renewed, devious glint in her eyes. The tension in the room grew thick as Kuzco, Mark, and Pacha exchanged wary glances

As Kuzco and Pacha grabbed as many potions as they could carry, they exchanged frantic glances. They knew time was running out. Mark, without hesitation, followed closely behind them, prepared for whatever might come next. Yzma, seeing the trio attempting to escape, growled in frustration and waved her hand toward her guards. "After them!" she commanded sharply, her voice full of malice.

The guards' large, imposing figures began to chase after Kuzco, Pacha, and Mark. But as they moved, something unexpected happened. One of the guards, a tall cow with a badge, suddenly stopped and looked uncertain. He turned toward Yzma with a hesitant expression. "Uh, can I leave?" the cow guard asked meekly, his voice unsure, but clearly tired of the chase.

Yzma glared at him, irritated by his request, but her irritation was tempered by a brief moment of amusement. "Fine," she sighed, waving him off. "You can go. But the rest of you..." Her tone hardened, turning icy. "Get them!" The cow guard gave a small, grateful nod and quickly turned to leave. But the other guards, still loyal to Yzma's orders, continued their pursuit, determined to stop Kuzco, Pacha, and Mark from escaping.

As they all ran, the guards suddenly started to shift in form, their bodies transforming into various animals: a zebra, a camel, and even a monkey. They were no longer the imposing figures they once were, reduced to small, bewildered creatures. One of the newly transformed animal guards, a zebra, hesitated, then turned back to Yzma, nervously flicking his tail. "Uh, can we leave too?" he asked, his voice now high-pitched and confused.

Yzma, her patience wearing thin, spun around in irritation. "No!" she snapped, throwing her arms up in frustration. "You’re supposed to catch them, not question me!" As the rest of the transformed guards continued their chase now a comical yet chaotic group of animals Yzma stood in the doorway, fuming.

"You think you can just run off?!" she yelled after them. "Well, fine! But don’t think this is over!" The sound of her voice echoed as the zebra, cow, and other transformed guards scurried behind Kuzco, Pacha, and Mark, who were still making their way through the palace. The chase was on, and Yzma wasn't about to give up easily.

As Kuzco and Pacha continued running, they began to look through the vials they had grabbed, desperate to find something to help them escape. Kuzco's eyes landed on one of the potions, and in a moment of panic, he quickly drank it, hoping it would give him the edge he needed. Almost instantly, Kuzco began to transform. First, he morphed into a small bird, fluttering in the air, confused and disoriented. Pacha looked up, eyes wide with surprise. "Kuzco, no! Not now!" But it was too late.

In a blink, Kuzco's form shifted again, this time into a squirrel. He scampered around in circles, trying to make sense of his new form, but then suddenly changed again, now a huge bear. He let out a growl, only to feel the transformation happening once more this time, he was a fluffy rabbit, and he immediately hopped in a circle, clearly frustrated.

Mark, who was running alongside them, could barely keep up with the chaos unfolding. "I swear, Kuzco, you need to stop drinking those potions!" he shouted. "You're gonna get us all caught!" Kuzco, now a giant tiger, growled in agreement but was clearly not in control. The potions had a mind of their own. The chaotic scene made it almost impossible for Mark and Pacha to stay focused on escaping the palace.

But before anyone could say anything else, they reached a dead end. The hallway ahead was blocked off, a large wall of stone that seemed to have no way through. The sounds of the transformed guards were growing closer, their animal forms causing chaos as they scrambled after them.

"We're trapped!" Pacha shouted, looking frantically around for an escape. "Wait!" Kuzco's voice, still in tiger form, suddenly broke through the panic. He spotted a large artifact ahead, a nose-shaped sculpture that seemed out of place amidst the ancient decor. Without much thought, he dashed toward it, his body shifting back and forth from animal to animal, until, in a final flash, he was back to his llama form.

"Everyone, follow me!" Kuzco shouted, pulling Mark and Pacha toward the nose sculpture. With a quick push, the nose moved, revealing a hidden passage.

They slid through the opening just in time, the passageway leading them down to an underground exit. As they slid through the narrow opening, they were all briefly thrown off balance, but managed to scramble to their feet as they found themselves on the roof of the palace.

Out of breath, Kuzco looked around, his llama ears twitching with the sound of the chaos below. "We made it... for now," he muttered. He stood up, shaking himself out of the dust, and then paused. His gaze focused on the distance, his expression hardening as the last of the transformed guards scrambled below.

With a deep sigh, Kuzco lowered his head and began to slowly return to his llama form. "Well, I guess being a llama isn't all that bad." As Yzma and Kronk finally made their way to the rooftop, a dark, eerie energy began to emanate from Yzma. Her body trembled, her eyes glowing with an unnatural light as the darkness slowly took control of her.

"No! I won't let this happen!" Kuzco yelled, stepping forward, but it was too late. Yzma raised her hand, the dark energy surging through her. She grabbed a few of the potions nearby, eyes gleaming with malice. Without hesitation, she drank one, her body beginning to morph in a twisted, terrifying way.

She grew taller, her skin darkening, feathers sprouting from her shoulders. In a flash, Yzma transformed into a Heartless Condor, her beak sharp and her wings stretched wide, ready to strike. "Mark!" Pacha yelled, worried filling his voice. "We need to find the right potion to change Kuzco back! Hurry!" But Mark could see that the danger was still far from over. As the Heartless Condor let out an unsettling screech, Mark stepped forward, Keyblade in hand. "Stay back, I'll take care of this," Mark said, his voice firm but filled with determination.

Kronk, now standing beside him, looked at the battle with hesitation. "I never really wanted to fight... but I can't just let Yzma get away with this!" "You're right. We need to work together," Mark said, his eyes glinting with focus. Kronk nodded. He stepped up and, with surprising agility, pulled out his trusty frying pan, ready to swing. "Let’s cook up something good!" he said with a grin, raising the pan to block a dive from the Heartless Condor.

As Kuzco and Pacha rushed to find the right potion, the dark energy in the air began to intensify. The sounds of Yzma and Kronk approaching grew louder. Mark, sensing the danger, prepared for what was about to happen, and sure enough, Yzma and Kronk burst into the scene.

Yzma, her eyes glowing with dark energy, stared down at them. The shadows around her seemed to twist and form into something more sinister. "So, you've made it this far," she sneered, her voice cold and venomous. "But it's time to end this!"

Without warning, Yzma's form began to warp, her body consumed by the darkness that surrounded her. Her once frail frame grew larger, and her face became twisted as the darkness took over. She grabbed a few potions from her collection, downing one with a wicked grin. In an instant, her form shifted into a Heartless condor, her body now made of dark, shadowy feathers, eyes glowing yellow with malice.

Kuzco and Pacha looked around for the right potion, the clock ticking as they tried to save their skins. Mark stepped forward, Keyblade in hand, ready for the inevitable battle. "You deal with the potions, I'll handle Yzma!" Mark shouted to Kuzco and Pacha. Kronk, ever the loyal sidekick, reluctantly stepped forward, his frying pan in hand. "Okay, okay... but just remember, I’m only doing this because you guys are the good guys!" he said, unsure of himself. Mark nodded. "Trust me, we could use all the help we can get!"

*======================*
[ Mark Learned: Secret Ingredients ✨ ]
*======================*
*===================*
[ Mark Learned: Spinach Puffs ✨ ]
*===================*
*=====================*
[ Mark Learned: Shoulder Launch ✨ ]
*=====================*

With a roar, Yzma's Heartless condor dove toward them, her massive wings flapping with such force that it sent gusts of wind flying through the air. Mark quickly summoned his magic, casting Firaga to send a wall of fire at her. But Yzma twisted in the air, dodging the attack. Her beak opened, releasing a blast of dark energy straight toward Mark.

Just as the blast reached him, Kronk leaped forward, using his frying pan to deflect the blast. "Hey, that's not how we do things around here!" he said, puffing his chest out. He twirled his frying pan like a sword, knocking the blast off-course. "Take that, you evil bird!"

The battle intensified as Yzma cawed, launching sharp, dark feathers in all directions. Mark skillfully dodged, calling forth Thundaga, sending powerful lightning bolts into the air, striking Yzma as she swooped down. The dark condor screeched, but the effects of the attack were minimal due to her shadowy form.

Kronk, getting the hang of things, shouted, "Secret Ingredient!" He began to spin around, using his frying pan to slice and dice nearby objects. Mark, noticing the opportunity, teamed up with him, swinging his Keyblade as they worked together like a well-oiled machine. Kronk's frying pan became a tool of destruction, chopping through debris, and Mark’s Keyblade sliced through the air with precise strikes, creating a whirlwind of attacks.

The two made quick work of Yzma’s minions that tried to interfere, before Mark sent out a spin with his Keyblade, finishing the combo with Firaga that exploded on impact, taking down the last of Yzma's dark servants. The Secret Ingredient move had restored their health, and Mark's magic surged with greater potency. Kronk jumped up and down, ecstatic. "That was awesome!"

But Yzma wasn’t done. She screeched in fury and dove toward Mark, aiming to claw him with her dark talons. "You think you can defeat me so easily?" she hissed. "The darkness will consume everything!" Kronk quickly stepped forward and shouted, "Spinach Puffs!" A flurry of spinach puffs appeared in the air, launching themselves at Yzma, distracting her and creating an opening for Mark to strike.

As Yzma struggled to bat away the spinach puffs, Mark raised his Keyblade high and shouted, "Thundaga!" The lightning storm struck, filling the air with blinding light as it hit Yzma square in the chest, breaking her hold on the darkness for a brief moment. The Heartless condor screeched in pain before finally falling, her shadowy form dissipating into nothingness, leaving only a gust of wind in her wake.

Panting, Mark stood tall, holding his Keyblade steady. "Is it over?" he asked, still cautious. Kronk lowered his frying pan, smiling sheepishly. "For now, I guess." As Kuzco and Pacha came forward, having finally found the right potion, Kuzco wasted no time drinking it, transforming back into his normal self. He dusted himself off and looked at Mark with gratitude. "Thanks, you know, for helping me and not making me drink any more of those potions!" Pacha smiled at Mark and Kronk. "I think we’ve had enough excitement for today."

Mark smiled back, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Glad I could help. But next time... maybe a little less chaos?" Kronk nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna have to think about what to do with all these leftover spinach puffs." As they made their way out of the lab, the world felt a little safer for now. But Mark knew that this wasn’t the end of the darkness that had taken over.

As Yzma's shadowy form flickered, the darkness around her swirled, and with an almost maddening laugh, she drank another potion from her collection. Her body began to change again, this time transforming into a massive, shadowy panther with glowing red eyes and sharp claws. The air around them thickened with dark energy as the beast growled menacingly, her form becoming even more formidable. Kronk and Mark quickly assumed battle stances, preparing for whatever came next. "Here we go again," Kronk grumbled, tightening his grip on his frying pan. "This is like a never-ending buffet of bad decisions!"

Before they could react, Yzma pounced, her dark, monstrous form lunging toward Mark with incredible speed. Her claws slashed through the air, making deep gashes in the ground as Mark barely managed to parry the attack with his Keyblade. But Kronk wasn't quick enough to block, and Yzma’s claw struck him hard, sending him flying back against the wall with a grunt. "Kronk!" Mark yelled, turning his attention back to the panther.

Yzma was relentless, and her claws tore through the air as she swiped at Mark again. This time, the strike hit him square in the chest, knocking him off his feet. He stumbled backward, feeling the impact reverberate through his body. "Ugh… this is gonna hurt for days," Mark muttered, pushing himself up.

Kronk, seeing Mark struggling, took a deep breath. "Alright, I’m not just gonna sit here!" He charged at Yzma and leapt into the air, grabbing Mark by the shoulders and launching him upward with incredible strength. Mark soared into the air, spinning with his Keyblade raised high. "Shoulder Launch!" Mark shouted as he descended rapidly. With perfect timing, he slammed his Keyblade into Yzma's panther form, causing a shockwave of magic and light to ripple out. The blow knocked Yzma off balance, causing her to stumble back, visibly weakened from the strike.

As Mark landed, he quickly rolled to his feet, his Keyblade glowing with magic. His heart raced as he prepared for the final blow. He could feel the energy building within him, and with a determined expression, Mark focused all of his magic into one final attack. "This ends now," Mark said through gritted teeth.

He raised his Keyblade one more time, summoning a powerful surge of Firaga that ignited the area in flames. Mark charged toward Yzma, his blade glowing brighter with the fiery magic as he swung it down in a final, powerful strike. The magic coursed through him as his Keyblade collided with the heart of Yzma's panther form, sending a massive explosion of fire and energy across the room. With a shriek, Yzma's panther form dissipated into dark shadows, the last remnants of her twisted power vanishing into the air. Mark stood, panting heavily, as the last echoes of battle faded.

*===================*
[Mark obtained: Poison Surge ✨]
*===================*

Kuzco and Pacha approached cautiously, both looking relieved. "That was... something," Kuzco remarked, giving Mark a nod of appreciation. "You’ve got some serious skills." Pacha smiled warmly at Mark. "You and Kronk really came through for us. Thank you." Mark gave a tired smile. "No problem. Just doing my part to make sure you guys make it out in one piece."

Kuzco reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, intricately designed Keychain. He handed it to Mark, a thoughtful look in his eyes. The chain was a mix of red and blue circles, swirling together to form a beautiful pattern, with a small golden llama dangling from the end. It shimmered in the dim light of the room. "I know it’s not much, but I think you’ll find it useful," Kuzco said with a grin, his usual arrogance replaced by something a little more genuine. "A token of gratitude, for saving our butts."

*======================*
[Mark obtained: Emperor’s Throne✨ ]
*======================*

Mark stared at the keychain, feeling a sense of pride wash over him. He wasn’t sure what it meant yet, but it felt significant, like it held a deeper connection to the journey he was on. As his fingers closed around it, something strange began to happen. A Keyhole appeared before him, glowing with a soft, golden light.

Mark stepped closer, instinctively reaching for the keychain as if it had a purpose beyond just being a gift. As he approached the Keyhole, his Keyblade seemed to hum,gleaming brightly as Mark held it up. With a deep breath, he inserted the Keyblade into the Keyhole and twisted it. The world around him began to shift, the walls around them blurring, and everything started to swirl. Suddenly, the entire world seemed to collapse into itself, and in a flash, Mark found himself back in the Realm of Light, surrounded by familiar sights.

But before he could even process what had happened, he teleported again, feeling himself pulled into a dark void. His surroundings shifted again, and Mark found himself standing in the Realm of Darkness. The oppressive, shadowy atmosphere surrounded him, and the familiar blue and purple hues of the realm weighed down on his shoulders. In the distance, he saw Incas, the swirling shapes and shadows, floating aimlessly. It felt like the realm was constantly in flux, always on the edge of something unknown. But it wasn’t just darkness that caught his attention.

Out of the shadows, Kuzco, Pacha, and Kronk appeared, standing on a faraway cliff. They waved to him with bright smiles and waves, their faces filled with warmth and encouragement. Mark smiled and waved back, feeling a warmth spread through him despite the coldness of the realm. Kuzco, still in his llama form, gave a sarcastic salute, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that showed just how far he’d come. Pacha, ever the heart of the group, gave Mark a thumbs up, while Kronk waved enthusiastically, his usual goofy smile plastered on his face.

As Mark continued to smile, something inside him told him that he had done his part for now. There was a path ahead, a journey that was far from over, but the friends he had made, the battles he had fought, they would all stay with him. With a final wave to the trio, Mark turned forward, setting his eyes on the path ahead. There were still battles to fight, and worlds to save. But for now, he was ready. He marched forward.

Chapter 4: Keyblade Graveyard & Mystic Woods

The Keyblade Graveyard stood in eerie silence, its vast, rocky expanse stretching endlessly beneath a sky tainted with swirling dark clouds. The air was heavy, filled with the lingering echoes of battles long past, where countless warriors had clashed in pursuit of power. Broken Keyblades jutted out from the ground like gravestones, a grim reminder of the devastation wrought by the Keyblade War.

At the center of it all, Master Xehanort stood atop a jagged cliff, his golden eyes glowing with dark intent. Vanitas, clad in his black and red armor, leaned casually against a broken Keyblade, his arms crossed as he listened. "Soon, Kingdom Hearts will be ours," Xehanort said, his voice calm yet filled with unshakable conviction. "The world shall be reforged as it was meant to be. But there are still those who would stand in our way." Vanitas scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, Terra, Aqua, Ventus. But what’s got you all twisted up now old man?" Xehanort's eyes narrowed. "Mark."

Vanitas tilted his head and let out a dark chuckle. "That extra guy? Please, he’s nothing special. Just another wannabe hero swinging a Keyblade around. He’s got no real strength, nothing compared to me, anyway." Xehanort smirked. "You underestimate him. Mark has already proven himself more than capable. He was there during Terra and Aqua’s Mark of Mastery exam, watching as I interfered. He knows more than he should. He cannot be allowed to meddle any further."

Vanitas rolled his eyes. "So what, you gonna deal with him yourself? Because last I checked, we’ve got bigger plans." Xehanort let out a quiet chuckle before turning away. "Indeed, I do not have the time to handle this nuisance myself. But we have… another ally."

At that moment, the air around them distorted, a swirling portal of darkness opening beside them. From within stepped a hooded figure, his presence radiating an ominous aura. The figure slowly removed his hood, revealing the youthful, silver-haired form of Young Xehanort. "Ah, a pleasure to serve," Young Xehanort said, his voice smooth and controlled, eyes gleaming with the same golden hue as his older self.

Xehanort extended his hand, and in a flash of cyan energy, a dark Keyblade materialized in his grasp. The weapon, No Name, pulsed with an otherworldly glow. The elaborate, spiked shapes decorating it almost seemed alive, shifting with a faint energy. Its stopwatch-shaped tip ticked ominously, while the diamond-shaped spikes that formed its teeth glowed faintly, connected by an eerie black web-like structure.

Young Xehanort took the weapon with a slight bow of his head. "And what would you have me do?" "Seek out Mark," Xehanort commanded. "Keep him occupied. Delay him long enough that he cannot interfere with our plans. We must focus on the forging of the χ-Blade. Ventus and Vanitas must clash to bring it into existence so I can rule Kingdom Hearts."

Vanitas cracked his knuckles eagerly. "Finally. I’ve been waiting for this." He grinned under his mask, his excitement barely contained. "Ventus won't know what hit him." Young Xehanort gave a knowing smirk. "It shall be done." With a flick of his wrist, he opened a corridor of darkness and stepped through, vanishing into the void.

As the portal closed, Vanitas turned back to Xehanort. "You really think this Mark guy’s that big of a deal?" Xehanort’s smile widened. "Perhaps not yet. But given time, he could be a threat. And I do not allow obstacles to remain in my path." With that, the two turned their attention back to their grander scheme, the forging of the χ-Blade, and the conquest of Kingdom Hearts.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The air was thick with an ominous weight, the atmosphere pressing down on Mark as he trudged through the Depths of Darkness. The area was massive, an endless abyss of jagged black rock, swirling shadows, and eerie violet mist. The ground beneath him felt unstable, as if shifting slightly with each step. The sky above was an endless void, filled with distant, flickering lights twisted echoes of fallen worlds lost to darkness.

Mark kept moving forward, his Keyblade gripped tightly in his hand. There was no clear path, no sign of where he needed to go, only the distant sound of wind howling through the abyss. He was used to wandering alone in the Realm of Darkness, but something felt… different this time.

Then, out of nowhere, a distorted time ripple pulsed through the air. Mark stopped in his tracks, his eyes darting around the desolate landscape. The space around him shimmered unnaturally, and then. A figure appeared. Standing a few feet away, bathed in the eerie glow of the realm, was a hooded man. His posture was calm, composed, yet carried an air of dominance. Slowly, the figure raised his head, revealing the silver hair and golden eyes of Young Xehanort.

Mark instinctively raised his Keyblade, his muscles tensing. "Who are you?" Mark asked, narrowing his eyes. Young Xehanort studied him for a moment before offering a slight smirk. "A traveler… just like you." His voice was smooth, controlled, and carried an almost unnatural calmness.

Mark didn't lower his guard. "Yeah? You don’t seem like the friendly type." Young Xehanort chuckled lightly. "That would depend on your definition of 'friendly.' But let’s not waste time. You’ve wandered deep into the darkness, and yet, you still don’t understand what you’re up against, do you?"

Mark scowled. "I know not to trust someone of the likes of you." Young Xehanort tilted his head slightly before pulling his hood back up over his head. "Trust?" he mused. "You misunderstand. I have no interest in earning your trust. You are merely… an inconvenience." Then, in an instant he charged.

Mark barely had time to react before Young Xehanort was upon him, swinging No Name in a blindingly fast arc. Mark raised his Keyblade just in time to block, but the sheer force sent him skidding backward. "Too slow." Young Xehanort vanished, reappearing behind Mark in a blur of dark mist. A sudden burst of time magic sent Mark stumbling, his body feeling unnaturally heavy.

"You don't belong here," Young Xehanort continued, his voice eerily detached. "You are merely a footnote in history, an anomaly at best." Mark gritted his teeth and retaliated, launching into a Firaga, but Young Xehanort warped out of the way, appearing just beside him and slashing downward. Mark barely blocked in time, but the impact knocked him off balance.

"Pathetic," Young Xehanort sneered. "You’re trying so hard… but you don’t even understand the forces at play. You are nothing compared to the grand design." Mark lunged forward, slashing wildly, but Young Xehanort dodged with ease, his movements fluid and precise. Every counter Mark attempted was met with immediate punishment: a time-warped strike here, a flash step attack there.

With a flick of his wrist, Young Xehanort summoned ethereal clockwork gears that began rotating around them. The air shimmered unnaturally as time slowed down for Mark, making it harder for him to move, harder to keep up. "You see?" Young Xehanort mocked, sidestepping another sluggish attack. "You are already losing." Mark clenched his teeth, frustration mounting. He could feel the fight slipping away from him no matter how hard he tried to keep up, Young Xehanort was always one step ahead.

As the battle dragged on, Mark’s movements slowed. Young Xehanort’s mocking laughter filled the space as he easily dodged Mark’s attacks. Every swing of his Keyblade felt like it was in slow motion. Each time he tried to land a blow, Young Xehanort was already one step ahead, effortlessly swiping at Mark, sending him flying through the air like a ragdoll.

“Is this all you have?” Young Xehanort taunted, watching as Mark struggled to rise. “You still think you can stand against me?” Mark gritted his teeth. He could feel his body aching, his strength draining with each passing second. Was it worth it? He had been through so much, and yet, here he was completely outmatched by this figure who claimed to be in control of time itself.

For a moment, doubt crept into Mark’s mind. The darkness around him seemed to press in closer, suffocating him. His Keyblade felt heavy in his hand, the weight of failure looming over him. He thought about giving up. But then, something strange happened. A faint glow radiated from his Keyblade. It wasn’t the usual bright light of power no, this was different. A soft blue, brown, and green aura surrounded the weapon, almost as if it was alive, resonating with something Mark couldn’t understand.

Suddenly, he felt a pull deep within him. A connection. Mark’s mind flashed to Aqua, Terra, and Ventus, was this… their strength? Was this the bond he had formed with them? The memory of their battles, their sacrifices, their unwavering resolve all surged through him. For a brief moment, he wasn’t alone.

With renewed determination, Mark charged forward, his body still bruised but his spirit reignited. He connected with a solid strike to Young Xehanort's side, forcing him to step back, momentarily caught off guard. Mark's next swing landed another true hit! But Young Xehanort immediately retaliated, his eyes narrowing with disgust. “You’re still fighting? Fine, then. Let’s see how you handle this.” In an instant, Young Xehanort raised his hands,time magic swirling around him. “Stopza!” he shouted, and the air froze.

Mark felt his body seize up his limbs locked in place, his Keyblade rendered useless in his grip. He tried to struggle, but his muscles refused to obey. He was trapped in the time magic’s grip, unable to move, his body an immovable statue.

Young Xehanort strolled forward, his boots clicking against the ground with a deliberate rhythm. He stood in front of Mark, his cold, calculating eyes scanning the frozen figure before him. “I’ll give you a gift, Mark,” he said, his voice low and venomous. “You can live to see another day… for now.” He reached down and summoned a dark portal, swallowing the space around them. "Enjoy the time you have left, for it won't be long.. And the name is Xehanort if you must know" With that, he stepped through, disappearing into the swirling vortex.

Mark remained frozen, unable to break free from the spell. His heart raced in frustration. How could he just leave like that? Why was this happening? He struggled with everything he had, but it was futile. His willpower wasn’t enough to break the time magic’s hold. Slowly, Young Xehanort’s portal began to close. Mark could feel the weight of his failure. He had lost again.

As the last traces of the portal faded, the time magic dissipated, and Mark dropped to the ground, gasping for air, his body finally able to move again. He slowly lifted himself up, exhausted and broken. He looked at his Keyblade, which had stopped glowing. The brief connection to Aqua, Terra, and Ventus had faded, leaving him feeling even more isolated. Mark stared at the weapon, questioning himself, his decisions, and his sanity. "Am I really cut out for this?" He whispered to himself, his voice full of doubt.

*================*
[Mark obtained: Air Slide ✨ ]
*================*
*====================*
[Mark obtained: Payback Spiral ✨ ]
*====================*

Mark stood, gasping for breath,  though still tinged with an unsettling feeling.  His Keyblade pulsed faintly in his grip, a small glimmer of light flickering along its surface. Mark stopped, watching the glow intensify for a brief moment before fading again. Something inside him told him to act. Gripping his Keyblade tightly, he held it out with both hands, pointing it forward. For an instant, he saw it. A shimmering, spectral chain extending into the darkness faint, fragile, but unmistakably there. It was like a tether, a link to something beyond the shadows. Mark didn’t hesitate. With a sharp thrust, he struck the chain with his Keyblade.

A powerful force yanked him forward. The world around him distorted as the force pulled him through the air, spiraling him toward something new. The chain's energy surged, connecting him to whatever lay ahead. The surroundings blurred, shifting and fading as the world seemed to crumble beneath him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mark’s heart raced, not just from the battle, but from the unknown ahead. He didn’t know where this journey would take him next, but he was ready. The bond he felt earlier, the presence of his friends Aqua, Terra, and Ventus echoed in his mind. He would press on, no matter what awaited. As Mark emerged from the chain’s pull, the world around him began to stabilize. The intense darkness of the previous realm shifted into a more natural landscape. He found himself standing in the middle of a dense forest, the thick canopy above him filtering the light into soft beams that touched the ground. The air was fresh, rich with the scent of pine and damp earth.

The trees seemed to stretch on endlessly, their trunks tall and ancient, their leaves swaying gently in the breeze. Mark glanced around, realizing that he was deep within the woods, with no clear path leading out. He could hear the distant sound of running water, the chirping of birds, and the rustle of leaves. The forest was alive, yet still, it felt like he was walking into an unknown world.

He instinctively gripped his Keyblade tighter, but it felt lighter in his hands, as if the woods themselves were inviting him in. The forest felt magical in its own way, calm and serene, but Mark couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him from just beyond his sight. “Where am I?” Mark muttered to himself, scanning the surroundings for any signs of a path.

After wandering for a while, he decided to make his way through the forest, hoping to find some kind of clearing or exit. His footsteps were soft on the moss-covered ground, and he was careful not to disturb the peace around him. The deeper he walked, the more the feeling of being watched intensified, but Mark pushed it to the back of his mind. He had faced far worse dangers than the uncertainty of this place.

Suddenly, he heard something in the distant voices, faint but clear. One voice was melodic and peaceful, the other was more forceful, almost demanding. The voices seemed to be drawing nearer. Mark stepped quietly to the side, finding cover behind a thick tree, his hand still on his Keyblade. He had learned to be cautious in unknown worlds, but the voices sounded like they belonged to people, and perhaps they could help guide him out.

Through the brush, Mark saw a figure, a young woman, standing tall with an air of confidence. She was talking to another figure, though he couldn't make out their shape yet. The woman's long hair fluttered in the breeze, and her attire was unusual, yet fitting for the wild forest around her. Something about her seemed connected to the very essence of the woods. Mark, still hidden in the shadows, stayed still, watching the encounter unfold. The woods were full of surprises, but he knew better than to jump into anything blindly

Mark continued to wander through the forest, his feet carrying him deeper into the wild, drawn by the sounds of movement ahead. The dense trees began to thin out as he ventured further, and soon enough, he found himself at the edge of a clearing. His eyes widened as he stepped forward, taking in the sight before him.

A small camp had been set up, with several people going about their daily tasks. He could see men and women preparing food, crafting tools, and tending to the fire. The atmosphere was calm, yet busy. Mark noticed that the people here wore simple, nature-inspired clothing, and their movements were fluid and natural, as if they were deeply connected to the land around them.

Among them, Mark spotted a familiar face, the young woman he had seen earlier. It was Pocahontas. She was walking through the camp with a graceful stride, exchanging words with some of the others as she made her way toward the center. Mark remained still, hidden behind a tree at the edge of the clearing, unsure of whether to approach or stay out of sight.

Pocahontas stopped near a large fire pit, where several people were gathered. Among them was a woman with short dark hair, her expression warm but firm. Pocahontas greeted her with a smile, and the two exchanged a few words. "How are you feeling today, Pocahontas?" Nakoma, her friend, asked, noticing the slight concern in Pocahontas's eyes.

"I'm fine," Pocahontas replied, though there was a hint of restlessness in her voice. "But there's something pulling at me. I can feel it, Nakoma. Something is changing. I have to go see for myself." Nakoma gave her a knowing look, her hands on her hips. "You always feel that way, Pocahontas. But you can't keep running off like this. You know what your father expects from you."

Pocahontas looked toward the distant trees, where the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky. "I know, Nakoma. But something is out there. I can feel it in my heart. I just need to understand." Her words were filled with both curiosity and concern, the same way Mark had felt in the woods earlier. It was a yearning to know more, to seek out the unknown.

Mark’s eyes narrowed as he watched them. His instincts told him that Pocahontas was someone he could talk to, someone who might help him understand this world. But for now, he remained hidden, not wanting to reveal himself just yet. He had no idea how she would react to his sudden appearance, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to explain himself.

Pocahontas gave Nakoma one last reassuring smile before walking away, heading toward the edge of the camp where the trees began to rise up again. Mark’s curiosity piqued, he decided to follow her from a distance, silently moving through the underbrush. Perhaps he could learn more about this world. Pocahontas made her way back toward the forest, the rhythmic sound of her footsteps blending with the natural symphony of the woods. Her heart seemed to pull her toward something she couldn’t explain, a call from deep within the forest that she couldn’t ignore. The soft rustle of leaves underfoot was the only sound that accompanied her as she walked with purpose.

Her two animal companions weren’t far behind. Flit, the tiny, hyperactive hummingbird, zipped through the air with his usual rapid energy, darting from tree to tree. Meeko, the mischievous raccoon, scurried along the ground, occasionally looking up at Pocahontas with his playful eyes as if urging her to hurry. Mark hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether he should follow her. He was curious, but at the same time, he didn’t want to intrude. He had been here before, coming across strange worlds and unfamiliar faces, but this one felt different. Something told him to be cautious.

However, his thoughts were interrupted as he heard a rustling sound from behind him. He turned sharply and found himself face-to-face with a tall, muscular man in traditional tribal attire. Kocoum, his expression stern and watchful, stood with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes narrowed as he studied Mark.

“You there,” Kocoum said in a deep, commanding voice, his eyes locked on Mark. “What are you doing here?” Mark stiffened, caught off guard by the sudden confrontation. He quickly realized he had been spotted, and there was no way to simply slip away unnoticed now. Before he could respond, Kocoum moved swiftly, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward with surprising strength.

“You’ll come with me. The chief will want to hear about this.” Mark barely had time to react as Kocoum’s grip tightened. He tried to shake free, but the warrior’s hold was unyielding. The forest around them seemed to grow quieter as they moved through the clearing and into the heart of the camp, where several other villagers watched with curiosity.

When they reached the center of the village, Kocoum led Mark to a large wooden structure, where the chief of the village stood Chief Powhatan. The chief was a tall man, his face weathered with age and wisdom. His eyes, though firm, held a depth of understanding that seemed to see beyond the surface. He studied Mark carefully as Kocoum explained the situation. “This stranger was found near the forest’s edge, Chief,” Kocoum said, his voice steady and controlled. “He appeared to be following Pocahontas. We’re unsure of his intentions.”

The chief raised an eyebrow and looked at Mark with a level gaze. “You’ve been following my daughter?” Mark swallowed nervously, trying to compose himself. He wasn’t sure what kind of reception he’d get here, but his instincts told him the chief wasn’t a man to be fooled easily.

“I wasn’t following her,” Mark replied, his voice steady despite the circumstances. “I... I was just passing through. I don’t belong here.” Chief Powhatan didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he glanced at Kocoum, who still stood at attention nearby. The chief’s expression remained unreadable as he considered Mark’s words. “Explain yourself,” the chief finally said, his voice calm but firm. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

Mark took a deep breath. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. His journey had led him here, to this world that seemed so far removed from everything he knew. But something about the chief’s presence calmed him, and he decided to be honest. “I don’t really know how I got here,” Mark said slowly. “I was... somewhere else. Somewhere that felt like I didn’t belong. And now I’m here, in this world, and I’m trying to find my way back.” Chief Powhatan studied him carefully, his gaze unwavering. After a long moment, he spoke.

“There is much in this world that we do not understand, stranger,” the chief said. “But we protect what is ours. Pocahontas is my daughter. If you are here with good intentions, I will allow you to explain yourself further. But if you mean her harm, know that you will not leave this place unharmed.” Mark nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. “I’m not here to cause any harm. I just... need to figure out where I am, and how to get back.”

The chief’s eyes softened ever so slightly, and he gave a small nod. “Very well. But know that if you are to stay here, you will be watched. We cannot trust a stranger so easily.” As the chief finished speaking, Mark felt the weight of the situation press down on him. He wasn’t sure what to expect next, but he could sense that he’d need to prove his intentions before he could move forward. And with Kocoum’s stern gaze still on him, he knew he would have to tread carefully if he wanted to earn their trust.

The chief’s steady gaze remained fixed on Mark as he considered the situation. His voice, calm yet authoritative, broke the silence. "Tell me your name, stranger," Chief Powhatan asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read the truth in Mark’s response. Mark hesitated for a moment, then straightened up, gathering his courage. He knew he had to be honest here, no matter how strange this situation was. "Mark," he replied simply. "My name is Mark."

Before the chief could respond, Kocoum, who had been standing quietly by the side, stepped forward. His expression was serious, and his voice carried a note of concern. "I saw Pocahontas leaving the camp earlier," Kocoum said, his eyes glancing toward the forest. "She was headed into the woods alone. I’m not sure why, but she seemed to be following something... or someone." The chief’s face darkened at Kocoum’s words. He was clearly concerned about Pocahontas’s safety.

"We cannot allow her to wander into the forest alone," Chief Powhatan said, his voice laced with both authority and worry. "She’s my daughter, and her safety is my responsibility. Mark, you’ve been brought here by fate or perhaps by something else. Regardless, you are here now, and I ask you to do something for us." Mark listened intently, sensing the gravity in the chief’s words. "You will go after Pocahontas," the chief continued, his eyes locking with Mark’s. "Find her and bring her back to the village. She is strong, but there are dangers in the forest that none of us can ignore. If you truly mean no harm, this will be the test." Mark nodded, understanding the request. "I’ll find her. I’ll bring her back safely."

The chief seemed satisfied with Mark’s answer, though his eyes still held an unspoken caution. "Go, then. The forest awaits you. And remember if you do not return with Pocahontas, there will be consequences." With that, the chief gave a final nod to Kocoum, signaling him to step back. Kocoum’s eyes remained hard as he looked at Mark, as though measuring him, but he said nothing more. Mark turned, making his way out of the village and toward the forest, his thoughts racing.

The woods ahead were dense, filled with shadows and strange, whispering sounds. It was unclear where Pocahontas had gone, but Mark knew one thing for sure he had to find her, and quickly. He could feel the weight of Chief Powhatan’s words pressing on him, but he also felt an odd sense of purpose. Somehow, he knew that this was where his journey had brought him. With determination, Mark ventured into the thick of the forest, unsure of what he would face but certain that he had no choice but to follow the path ahead.

Mark wandered deeper into the forest, each step guided by a strange, inexplicable pull. The trees seemed to grow denser around him, their branches swaying gently in the breeze as if trying to hide something, or perhaps to protect it. The sound of distant birds echoed through the woods, but Mark’s focus remained on his goal finding Pocahontas.

After what seemed like an eternity of walking, he came upon a small clearing. There, he saw her. Pocahontas was kneeling before an ancient tree with a face carved into its trunk, speaking softly to it. The tree was massive, its branches spreading out in a canopy that seemed to touch the sky. Mark stood still, watching them for a moment, not wanting to interrupt.

Grandmother Willow’s voice was soothing, yet full of wisdom. "What is it that troubles you, child? You have something in your heart that weighs heavily. But you must listen to your own voice, the voice of the earth, to understand what it is you truly seek." Pocahontas nodded, her expression a mix of confusion and contemplation. "I don’t know what to do, Grandmother Willow. My heart feels torn. There’s something beyond this world calling to me, but I don’t know if I should follow it. I’m unsure whether to stay or leave… if my path is meant to cross with something else."

Mark continued to listen from a distance, unsure of how to approach. He didn’t want to intrude on this moment of quiet conversation. As he stood there, the weight of everything that had happened his meeting with Pocahontas, his strange journey here pressed upon him. Finally, he took a step forward, knowing he couldn’t stay hidden any longer. At that very moment, Grandmother Willow’s branches suddenly twitched, as though sensing something unusual. In an instant, they swung toward Mark, attempting to swat him away in a defensive motion.

But Pocahontas, noticing his presence, quickly raised her hand. "Wait, Grandmother Willow. It's okay," she said gently. "He means no harm." The ancient tree’s branches paused, hovering in midair, and its voice rumbled through the clearing. "Hmm... There is something... unusual about him," Grandmother Willow said, her tone wise and perceptive. "But I sense no malice in his heart." Pocahontas stood, brushing the leaves from her dress, and turned to Mark with a curious gaze. "You’ve been following me, haven’t you? And now, you stand before me… but I’ve never seen you before. Who are you?" she asked, her voice soft but direct.

Mark met her gaze, trying to keep his composure. "My name is Mark," he said, his voice steady but with a touch of hesitation. "I’m… not sure why I’m here, but I was asked to find you and bring you back to your people." Grandmother Willow’s voice echoed once again, this time softer. "Forgive me, young one," she said, the warmth of her words wrapping around him like a gentle breeze. "I do not mean to judge you. The forest is full of mysteries, and your arrival is another. But your heart holds a different rhythm than the one I know. There is much more to you than meets the eye."

Pocahontas nodded, though she still seemed uncertain. "Thank you for your understanding, Grandmother Willow," she said, before turning back to Mark. "I’m glad you’ve found me. But I wonder, Mark... what brings you into this land?" Mark felt the weight of his journey, the strange occurrences that had led him here, and the uncertainty that still hung around him. "I’m not sure, honestly," he admitted. "But I think it’s something I need to figure out... maybe together with you." Pocahontas studied him for a moment, and something in her expression softened. "Perhaps we’ll find our answers together."

*===================*
[Mark obtained: Doubleflight ✨ ]
*===================*

Grandmother Willow’s branches gently rustled, her voice carrying a tone of warmth and wisdom. "May the winds guide your steps, both of you," she said softly. "May your journey be full of discovery, and may the forest always watch over you." Her words lingered in the air like a soft breeze, wrapping them in a sense of calm before she fell silent again. Mark nodded, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over him. "Thank you, Grandmother Willow," he said quietly, before turning to Pocahontas. "We should head back. The chief might be worried."

Pocahontas stood slowly, her gaze lingering on the tree before returning to Mark. "I know you want to take me back," she said with a thoughtful smile, "but why not stay a little longer? There’s so much more to the forest, to the world around us, that we can experience together. You’ve been following me for a while now... I think it’s only fair to show you some of what I’ve learned."

Mark hesitated for a moment. His duty to the chief, to Pocahontas’ people, weighed on his mind. But there was something in her eyes, a quiet invitation that he couldn’t resist. He felt a strange pull to stay. After a long pause, he gave a small nod. "I suppose we have time," he said reluctantly. "But just for a little while."

Pocahontas smiled brightly, a spark of joy in her eyes. "Good. You’ll see there’s more to the world than we often realize." She turned and began walking deeper into the forest, motioning for him to follow. Meeko, her mischievous raccoon companion, scurried around her feet, occasionally stopping to glance back at Mark as if beckoning him to join them. Flit, her tiny hummingbird sidekick, flitted around their heads, zipping between the branches, a blur of color in the trees.

As they walked, Pocahontas spoke softly, her voice full of affection for the land she called home. "The wind speaks to me," she said, her eyes tracing the movement of the trees. "It carries the voices of the forest, whispers from places far away. The animals hear it too. They know when the seasons change, when the air feels different, when something is coming." She paused, glancing at Mark. "They know it better than we do sometimes."

Mark listened carefully, his mind absorbing her words. There was something so calming about the way she spoke like she was in perfect harmony with everything around her. As they ventured deeper into the woods, the sounds of nature enveloped them. The leaves rustled softly, and the distant calls of birds echoed through the trees. "Do you ever stop to listen to the animals?" Pocahontas asked, her gaze distant as she looked around. "They have their own language, their own way of speaking. Sometimes, it’s more than just instinct, it's a conversation between creatures and nature itself."

Mark nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure what she meant. He wasn’t quite attuned to the same connection with nature that she had, but he appreciated her perspective. "I’ve never really thought about it that way," he said thoughtfully. "But I can see what you mean. The forest is so... alive. It's not just a place. It feels like it has a spirit of its own." Pocahontas smiled at him, clearly pleased with his response. "Exactly," she said. "Mother Nature, as we call her, is more than just the trees and the rivers. She’s the air, the animals, the very heartbeat of the earth. All of us are connected, even if we don’t always see it."

Meeko suddenly scampered ahead, pulling at her skirt. Pocahontas chuckled, bending down to pick him up. "Looks like someone’s getting impatient," she said with a smile. "Shall we continue, Mark?" As they wandered through the woods, Mark couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. The forest was alive in a way he had never experienced before, and Pocahontas was the perfect guide to show him its wonders. Flit fluttered around them, sometimes darting into the trees, sometimes hovering near Mark’s face as if studying him curiously.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the forest floor, Mark felt himself letting go of his usual worries. There was something about the peacefulness of this place, the quiet rhythm of nature, that soothed him. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this escape from everything. He had never been so attuned to the world around him. They continued walking, with Meeko and Flit leading the way, as Mark allowed himself to just be his thoughts fading into the background as the magic of the forest enveloped him.

The sun had started its descent, casting a golden hue over the village as Mark and Pocahontas made their way back, the sounds of the forest slowly fading as they neared the clearing. Mark couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease settle in his chest as the village came into view. He had been away longer than he’d intended, and he could only imagine how the chief was feeling.

Pocahontas seemed completely at ease, her connection with nature apparent in every step she took. As they walked, she spoke more about the world around them. "The wind carries messages, Mark," she said, her voice soft and filled with reverence. "It’s not just something that moves the trees or cools us in the heat. It has a life of its own. When you listen, really listen, you can hear stories of the rustling of the leaves, the ripple of the river, the songs of the birds. Nature is always speaking to us, if we only take the time to understand."

Mark nodded, even though he felt his thoughts drift back to the mission the chief had given him. He should have returned sooner. The chief wasn’t one to tolerate delays, especially not when it came to something as important as Pocahontas' safety, as the two were close Pocahontas suddenly stopped. “Oh uh..” she said as Mark turned to her and suddenly many Neo-Shadow’s began to emerge from the ground.

“Stay behind me!” He shouted as he summoned his Keyblade as he looked around, he began to fight the Neo-Shadow’s, he leaped and swung his Keyblade toward the approaching Heartless, as one of the creatures got near Pocahontas, she backed away as Mark pointed his Keyblade. “Firaga!” a burst of fire launched at the Neo-Shadow making it flinch, Mark then ran over and swung at the monster as it disappeared, he then threw his Keyblade almost like in a raid-like attack, most of the Neo-Shadow’s disappeared after being hit with his Keyblade.

He held his handout as the Keyblade came back to him, it made it vanish as he looked over at Pocahontas. “Are you alright?” Mark asks as he looked over at her, she nodded as Pocahontas got back near Mark. “So.. you can use Elements?” he gave a nod as he continued to walk, she quickly followed. As they finally crossed into the village, Mark could already feel the tension in the air. The chief was standing near the entrance, his stern expression impossible to miss. The other men of the village gathered behind him, their gazes sharp and watchful. Kocoum stood nearby, his posture rigid, eyes fixed on Mark with clear disapproval. 

"You’re late," the chief said, his voice low and heavy with authority. His gaze flicked briefly to Pocahontas, and Mark could see the disappointment in his eyes. "I sent you to bring her back, and yet, you returned with her hours later. What were you doing out there?"

Mark’s heart sank. "I... we lost track of time. I was just making sure she was safe. We... We spent some time talking." His voice trailed off, not entirely convinced by his own words. The tension in the air felt thick, and he could sense that the chief wasn’t going to accept excuses. Kocoum stepped forward, his jaw clenched tightly. "You let her wander away," he said with venom in his tone. "You were supposed to bring her back. Instead, you let her get lost in the forest." He shot a heated glare at Mark. "What kind of protector are you?"

Mark held his ground, despite the sting of Kocoum’s words. "I didn’t let her wander," he shot back, his voice rising in defense. "She wanted to stay longer, and I... I couldn’t say no." He glanced over at Pocahontas, who remained silent, watching the scene unfold with a look of quiet understanding. Pocahontas, however, wasn’t going to let the situation escalate further. She stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Mark’s arm. "It’s my fault," she said, her voice strong but calm. "I asked Mark to stay. I wanted to show him more of the forest, to share its beauty with him. I’m the one who asked him to stay longer. He didn’t mean for any of this to happen."

The chief’s eyes softened as he turned his gaze to Pocahontas. "You are the one who asked him to stay?" he said, his voice carrying a hint of frustration but also concern. "You know the importance of your duties, Pocahontas. You cannot afford to forget that." Pocahontas nodded, her face serious now. "I understand, Father," she said softly, before turning to Mark with a gentle, apologetic look. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble."

Mark’s heart felt heavy with guilt, but before he could say anything, the chief spoke again, his tone slightly softer. "Pocahontas, you may be the daughter of the chief, but even you must understand that rules are not to be broken." He paused for a moment, and Mark could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air. "As for you, Mark, you’re not from here. You’re a guest in this village, and you failed your task. I can’t ignore that."

Pocahontas stepped forward once again, standing tall and proud. "It’s my fault," she repeated, this time her voice unwavering. "Mark did nothing wrong. If anyone should take the blame, it should be me." The chief seemed to weigh her words for a moment, his gaze flicking between Pocahontas and Mark. Finally, he sighed deeply. "You both are stubborn," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "But fine. You will both return to your duties, but there will be consequences." He turned to Kocoum and the other men, who had been watching in silence. "We will not let this go without acknowledgement."

Mark let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, but he also knew that the tension in the village wouldn’t fully fade. He had failed his task, but Pocahontas had protected him, taken the blame herself. Despite the conflict, there was a sense of relief in knowing that Pocahontas stood by him, just as he had tried to stand by her. As they stood there, the weight of the situation slowly settling in, Mark turned to Pocahontas with a quiet thanks in his eyes. "I’m sorry for the trouble," he said softly.

Pocahontas gave him a reassuring smile. "It wasn’t your fault. I should have known better." Her eyes sparkled with the same calmness as the forest they had left behind. "Sometimes the forest speaks to us, and we just have to listen." Mark smiled back, grateful for her understanding, even in the face of the tension. But deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that things would get more complicated from here. There was a balance to be restored, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face what was coming

As the chief and his men turned to disperse, Pocahontas glanced at Mark, offering him a final, reassuring smile before she turned and walked away, heading toward the forest where she would meet her friend, Nakoma. Mark watched her go, the peaceful serenity she carried with her contrasting sharply against the tense atmosphere of the village.

His moment of solitude didn’t last long, as Kocoum, still fuming from earlier, stalked toward him. The man's presence was imposing, his body tense and his expression dark. He didn’t waste any time with pleasantries. "You think you can just wander into our village and act like you know what’s best for Pocahontas?" Kocoum’s voice was harsh, each word dripping with disdain. Mark shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know how to answer. He had tried his best to look out for Pocahontas, but this wasn’t his world. He was just trying to find his way back to the light. “I was just following orders,” Mark said, his tone steady but cautious. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”

Kocoum snorted, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing. “Follow orders, huh?” He took a step closer, towering over Mark. “You may think you’re just a guest here, but you’ve got no idea what it means to protect her.” He lowered his voice, his words thick with barely restrained anger. "Pocahontas is meant to marry me. That’s the way things are. But if you think you're going to come here, spend a little time with her, and make her forget about her responsibilities, you’re wrong."

Mark blinked, his confusion evident. He opened his mouth, but the words got stuck. "Marry? Wait... what?" His mind was racing. He’d seen the bond between Pocahontas and Kocoum, but he hadn’t imagined it was anything like that. Kocoum grinned, clearly enjoying the confusion on Mark’s face. "Yeah, that’s right. I’m the one she’s supposed to be with. The chief’s decision, and she knows it." His grin deepened, almost mocking. "So don’t get any ideas, outsider. You’re just a distraction. A temporary one."

Mark stood frozen for a moment, trying to process everything Kocoum was saying. "I... I’m not like that. I’m not trying to get between you two," he said, his voice slightly defensive. "I’m just... lost. I’m trying to figure things out. I don’t know what’s going on here."

Kocoum’s eyes narrowed. "Good. You’d better keep it that way. Stay out of our way. Or you’ll regret it." Mark didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t quite grasp everything Kocoum was saying, but the underlying threat was clear. Mark wasn’t sure what the future held, but he couldn’t afford to let himself get caught up in someone else’s plans. His purpose was different. He wasn’t here to settle any old disputes or get involved in a relationship he didn’t understand.

Before Mark could say anything more, Kocoum turned and walked away, casting one final glance back over his shoulder. “Don’t forget what I said,” he warned, before disappearing into the crowd. Mark stood there, processing the exchange, his mind still swirling with confusion. He glanced back at the forest where Pocahontas had gone. It wasn’t about marriage or relationships, it was about something far greater than that. Something that had to do with his own journey, his purpose, and the way forward.

But Kocoum’s words lingered in his mind, creating an uncomfortable knot in his chest. He wasn’t part of this world. He wasn’t meant to get involved in their customs or their way of life. He was an outsider, an unknown in a world full of people who were bound by their destinies. Mark couldn’t help but feel like he was walking a fine line, caught between two worlds, unsure of what role he was supposed to play in this strange new reality.

As the fire crackled low in the camp, the soft murmur of the village faded into the background. The village’s tents were now dim with the warmth of the night, each of the villagers settling into their resting places for the evening. But Mark wasn’t ready for sleep. The day had been a blur, and his thoughts raced faster than he could process them. His mind wandered back to Mickey, and how he had been forced to leave him behind in the Realm of Darkness. The weight of that choice was still heavy on his heart.

Mark quietly slipped out of his tent, being mindful of not disturbing the peaceful slumber of the villagers. The cool night air greeted him, and he took a deep breath, as if trying to clear his mind. He walked toward the edge of the camp, where the ancient and wise Grandmother Willow resided.

The towering tree was a peaceful figure against the night sky, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. The subtle glow of fireflies lit the air, casting an ethereal light around the roots of the tree. “Grandmother Willow?” Mark called softly, standing at the base of her roots. Almost as if she’d been expecting him, the ancient tree rustled, her voice resonating in the air like the wind through the leaves. “Ah, Mark. I thought you might come. The weight you carry is heavy, my child.”

Mark sat cross-legged near her, looking up at the gnarled trunk that twisted and turned toward the heavens. He sighed deeply before speaking, his voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Grandmother Willow. I was supposed to grab a Keychain and return to the realm of light... help my friend Mickey... but instead we had a major setback, I made a choice. I had to send him back. He’s safe in the realm of light, I know that... but I feel like I abandoned him. I’m alone now, and I’m not sure what’s next for me.”

Grandmother Willow’s voice echoed softly, like a gentle breeze. “Ah, Mark, the burden of sacrifice is one many must bear. To protect those you care about sometimes means letting go, even when your heart tells you to stay close. You did what was necessary for Mickey. That is a noble thing, even if it doesn’t feel that way right now.” Mark’s shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of his decisions were catching up to him. “But I feel so... lost. I feel like I don’t belong here, and I feel all alone. I just wanted him to be safe, and I don’t know if I can keep going without him.”

Grandmother Willow’s branches creaked, her presence calming and steady. “Loneliness can feel unbearable, child. But remember this: you are never truly alone. The bonds you form, the choices you make, the actions you take they ripple through time, through space. Even when you feel the most isolated, those you care for are still with you, in heart, in spirit, in memory. Your bond with Mickey seems to be unbreakable.”

Mark closed his eyes, taking in her words. He hadn’t thought about it like that; he'd been so focused on his own feelings of abandonment that he hadn’t considered that Mickey would carry their bond with him, no matter the distance. “I think I understand now... but I still don’t know what to do next,” Mark admitted, a touch of uncertainty in his voice.

Grandmother Willow’s voice softened, full of wisdom. “You must walk your own path, Mark. You’ve made a great sacrifice, and now you must continue your journey. But remember, it is not just your journey. The world is vast, filled with challenges, people, and lessons. The Keyblade you wield, the light you carry, will guide you. Even in the darkest of times, there will be light. Your heart is strong, and your choices matter.”

Mark nodded, slowly starting to feel the weight of his inner turmoil ease. “Thank you, Grandmother Willow. I needed to hear that. I just... I’m scared I’m not enough.” “Everyone has their moments of doubt,” she replied, her voice a soothing balm. “But your heart is your strength, Mark. Trust in it, and trust in yourself. Your actions will lead you to where you need to go. And when you feel alone, look to the stars. You are never truly alone.”

A sense of calm settled over Mark as he absorbed her words. He stood up, glancing up at the starry sky, feeling a bit lighter. He didn’t know what awaited him next, but at least now he had a better understanding of his place in this vast, unpredictable journey. “Thank you,” Mark whispered, his voice filled with quiet gratitude. “You’re welcome, child. Now go. Your path awaits.” With a final glance at the wise tree, Mark turned and made his way back toward the camp, the weight in his chest feeling just a little bit lighter. 

The sun rose slowly over the village, casting its warm rays across the camp as the morning haze began to lift. Birds chirped, and the air was filled with the scent of dew and fresh earth. Mark stretched as he woke from a peaceful sleep, feeling a little more at ease after his conversation with Grandmother Willow the previous night. Though his heart still carried the weight of his decisions, he was starting to feel a spark of clarity.

The chief, ever practical, had already made his rounds, and now he was sending Mark on his task for the day. "Mark," the chief called, "I need you to gather firewood for the village. We need it to last through the coming days." Mark nodded respectfully, accepting the task. "Understood, Chief," he said. It was a small chore, but a welcome distraction from the chaos that had been weighing on his mind. With a quick glance at the camp, he set off into the forest.

As he walked deeper into the woods, the sounds of nature embraced him rustling leaves, the calls of distant animals, the soft crunch of the forest floor beneath his feet. He was almost at the part of the forest where the trees thickened, perfect for gathering wood, when something unusual caught his attention.

Ahead of him, a large clearing opened up. He could see several men hard at work, setting up tents and making preparations. The sight of the settlers and their tools gave Mark a pause. Something about this setup felt wrong out of place in such a peaceful, natural environment. As he drew closer, he overheard snippets of their conversation. One voice stood out a familiar, commanding tone.

"Once we have all this land cleared," the voice said, "we can plant crops, take the trees, and build our new settlement. The locals won't even know what hit them. We're going to take everything every resource this land has to offer." Mark's heart clenched as he recognized the man’s voice. It was Governor Ratcliffe, the one who had come to Pocahontas's village with his settlers. He was here to take the land, to strip it of its resources. Mark clenched his fists in anger.

He couldn’t just stand by and let this happen. This was Pocahontas’s home, and he’d seen the bond the people here had with the land. They were part of it, and Ratcliffe and his settlers were going to destroy it all. Mark stepped forward, his footsteps careful but resolute. He approached Ratcliffe, who was directing his men with an air of arrogance.

"Governor Ratcliffe," Mark called, his voice steady and unyielding. Ratcliffe turned around, his eyes narrowing when he saw Mark standing there. "And who might you be?" he sneered, clearly unimpressed. “My name is Mark,” he said, standing tall. "I overheard your plans. You’re not taking this land. Not while I’m here."

Ratcliffe let out a harsh laugh, a dismissive smirk crossing his face. "And what are you going to do about it, boy? You're alone out here, in the middle of nowhere. I suggest you turn around and walk back to wherever you came from before I make you regret it." Mark's eyes narrowing with determination. "This land belongs to Pocahontas and her people. You can’t just come here and take it."

Ratcliffe's smirk faded as he saw the seriousness in Mark’s eyes. "You’ve got some nerve, but you don’t scare me. Men!" He turned to his soldiers, pointing toward Mark. "Take care of this one." Before Mark could react, the soldiers charged, weapons drawn. Without hesitation, Mark summoned his Keyblade, and the light from its blade flared as he stood his ground. The men rushed toward him, but Mark was quick. He raised his Keyblade and used his power to summon Gravira.

A swirl of dark energy formed around the soldiers, pulling them into the air and slamming them into the earth, immobilizing them in their own traps. They struggled, but the gravitational force held them in place. Mark’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and resolve as he turned toward the camp, noticing the damage his Gravira had caused to the settlers’ equipment. Several tents were toppled, and much of their initial setup had been obliterated by the intense force. Governor Ratcliffe’s face twisted in fury as he saw the destruction.

"You! You’ve ruined everything, I will make you pay for this!" Ratcliffe yelled, his voice full of rage. Mark took a few steps forward, his expression cold and unwavering, he pointed his Keyblade at Ratcliffe as he stared at him. "If you try to destroy this land, I will stop you. If you come back, you won’t get another chance."

Ratcliffe stood frozen, his face growing pale as he looked up at Mark. There was something about the feline’s presence, the strength in his stance, that seemed to unnerve the governor. Mark wasn’t just a traveler. He wasn’t just some young man standing in his way. Mark had power, a confidence that made him a force to be reckoned with. "Leave now, and don’t come back," Mark said, his voice low but powerful, like a warning.

Ratcliffe swallowed hard, his confidence wavering. Mark's threat was real, and the governor knew it. After a tense moment, Ratcliffe turned, glaring at Mark one last time before barking at his men. "Pack up! We’re leaving now. This land isn’t worth the trouble." Mark watched as the settlers quickly gathered their things and began to retreat. The anger still boiled inside him, but he felt a sense of relief, knowing he had protected the land that protected Pocahontas’s people for now.

As the last of the settlers disappeared into the distance, Mark made his Keyblade vanish out of thin air and turned back toward the forest. He had done what he could, but he knew that this was far from over. Ratcliffe would be back, and next time, Mark would be ready. As he made his way back toward the village, the wind picked up, rustling the leaves around him. It seemed like nature was speaking to him, guiding him forward.

Mark took a deep breath, the tension still lingering in his muscles as he turned away from the ruined settlement. The wind whispered through the trees, as if carrying the voices of the forest around him. He glanced back one last time to make sure the settlers were truly gone before gripping his Keyblade tightly and heading back toward the village.

The walk was quiet, but his mind raced with everything that had just happened. He had stepped into something bigger than himself. Governor Ratcliffe and his men weren't just some band of troublemakers; they were invaders, determined to take everything from Pocahontas and her people. He had managed to scare them off for now, but would they stay away? Or would they come back with more force?

He sighed, No matter what, he had to be ready. As he reached the outskirts of the village, the familiar sights and sounds of daily life greeted him. People were working, tending to crops, weaving baskets, and preparing meals. But as Mark stepped into the open, he noticed the way some of them paused, their eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Kocoum was the first to approach, his expression unreadable, but his body language tense. "You're back," he said, his voice laced with skepticism. "And yet, I don't see any firewood." Mark exhaled sharply, already knowing this wouldn't be easy. "Something more important came up," he said. "Governor Ratcliffe and his men were setting up a settlement not far from here. They were planning to take everything, your land, your food, your home."

At that, a few villagers exchanged worried glances, murmuring among themselves. "I stopped them," Mark continued, standing his ground. "Destroyed their starting point and made it clear they weren’t welcome here." Kocoum's eyes narrowed. "You destroyed their camp?" Mark nodded. "They were going to take everything from you. I couldn’t just stand by and let that happen."

Kocoum stepped closer, his tone cold. "You think that was wise? You may have driven them away now, but what happens when they return? When they come back with more men, with more weapons?" Mark clenched his jaw. "Then I'll stop them again." Kocoum let out a scoff, shaking his head. "You don't understand. You are an outsider. You brought trouble here the moment you arrived." Before Mark could respond, another voice broke through the tension.

"Mark!" Pocahontas hurried toward them, her expression filled with concern. "What's going on?" Mark turned to her. "Ratcliffe was planning to take your land. I stopped him for now." Pocahontas's eyes widened slightly, but instead of anger or fear, there was a flicker of gratitude in them. "You did that?"

"He destroyed their camp," Kocoum said darkly. "Which means Ratcliffe will come back, looking for revenge." Pocahontas looked between them, her expression thoughtful. "Maybe… but we can't just live in fear. If Mark hadn't stopped them, they might have already started taking our land." Kocoum let out a frustrated breath but didn't argue further. Instead, he turned to leave, shaking his head. "You’ve made things worse," he muttered before walking off.

Mark sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Guess I'm not exactly making friends here." Pocahontas gave him a small smile. "Kocoum is just protective of our people. He doesn't trust outsiders easily." Mark looked down for a moment before nodding. "I get it. I just… I had to do something."

"You did," Pocahontas said gently. "And I believe you did the right thing." Mark glanced at her, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. He wasn’t sure what would happen next, but at least for now, he had an ally. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the village. For tonight, things were peaceful. But Mark knew this wasn’t over. Ratcliffe wasn’t the type to give up so easily.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Mark sat at the edge of the village, staring at the distant horizon. The guilt weighed heavily on him. Kocoum was right, he had probably made things worse. He acted on impulse, and now the village might pay the price for it. The last thing he wanted was for Pocahontas and her people to suffer because of him. He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his fur. “Maybe I should leave,” he thought. “If I stay, I’ll just bring more trouble.”

Determined, he got to his feet and quietly slipped into the woods. He didn’t have a real destination just away. Away from the village, away from his mistakes. The deeper he went into the forest, the more the guilt gnawed at him. “I should’ve thought things through. I should’ve handled it differently.”

“Mark!” He stopped in his tracks. Turning around, he saw Pocahontas running after him, her expression filled with concern. Meeko and Flit followed close behind. “Why are you leaving?” she asked, stepping closer. Mark hesitated before looking away. “Because Kocoum’s right. I made things worse. I came here and brought nothing but trouble. If I wasn’t here, none of this would’ve happened.”

Pocahontas frowned, shaking her head. “You think leaving will solve everything?” Mark sighed. “I don’t know. But I can’t just stand around and pretend everything’s fine when I might’ve put your people in danger.” Pocahontas studied him for a moment before stepping beside him. “You did what you thought was right. You acted because you care. That’s more than most people would do.”

Mark looked at her, surprised. She gave him a soft smile. “If you truly believe you made a mistake, then don’t run from it. Stay, and help us prepare for what’s to come.” Mark exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s got a point. Running won't fix things. If Ratcliffe returned, the village would need all the help it could get.” He thought but before he could respond, rustling in the bushes caught their attention.

Mark instinctively summoned his Keyblade, stepping in front of Pocahontas. Meeko scurried behind her, and Flit hovered protectively nearby. Then, a man stepped into view. He was tall, with blond hair and dressed in unfamiliar clothing nothing like the people in the village. He looked just as surprised to see them. Pocahontas gasped softly. “John Smith.” Mark lowered his weapon slightly, glancing between them. “So, she knows this guy.”

John took a cautious step forward. “Pocahontas?” His expression softened as he looked at her. “I was hoping to see you again.” Mark stayed on guard, unsure of who this man really was. But something about the way he and Pocahontas looked at each other told him that this meeting wasn’t just a random coincidence. Pocahontas smiled. “John, this is Mark. He’s… a friend of mine.” John nodded at Mark. “Nice to meet you.”

Mark crossed his arms. “Same… I guess.” John looked back at Pocahontas. “I came to warn you. Governor Ratcliffe is planning something. He won’t stop until he gets what he wants.” Mark felt his stomach drop. “So it’s not over yet.” Pocahontas’s face grew serious. “Then we need to stop him.” Mark tightened his grip on his Keyblade. “Looks like I’m staying after all.”

*===============*
[ Mark Learned: Aeroga✨ ]
*===============*

As Mark, Pocahontas, and John Smith neared the village, an unsettling stillness settled over them. The warm glow of the village fires had been replaced by chaos, tents were torn apart, supplies scattered, and the once-peaceful home of Pocahontas’s people was now overrun. Soldiers clad in armor stormed through, their muskets and blades gleaming under the dimming sky. Mark’s breath hitched as he spotted Kocoum lying on the ground, his body battered and bruised. He struggled to lift himself, his face contorted in pain.

“Kocoum!” Pocahontas gasped, running to his side. Kocoum weakly lifted his head, glaring at Mark even through his pain. “Where… were you?” he rasped before coughing. Mark clenched his fists, guilt stabbing at him again. He had left, and now this happened. A sinister laugh echoed through the camp, drawing Mark’s attention.

Standing at the heart of the destruction was Governor Ratcliffe. His armor gleamed in the firelight, and his cape billowed behind him. But something was wrong. The air around him pulsed with something dark, something unnatural. Mark could feel it. The darkness spiraling inside Ratcliffe, barely restrained. It’s overflowing. Ratcliffe turned to face them, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “Well, well. If it isn’t the little pest who ruined my plans.” His eyes locked onto Mark. “You thought you could stop me? That you could threaten me?”

Mark stepped forward, summoning his Keyblade. “I thought you would have listened, you really think i’ll let you take this place so easily? I warned you!” He said as he gripped his Keyblade hard. Ratcliffe yells for his goons to come in, they charge at Mark but it didn't wanna hurt them too badly so he then uses Aeroga to send most of the goon’s flying into the river. The goon’s take a step back. Ratcliffe sneers as he grabs his dagger and charges at Mark, he quickly deflects the incoming  dagger, as Mark blocks Ratcliffe pushes his dagger back onto Mark’s Keyblade, Mark struggles to hold his as he looks at Ratcliffe eyes.

“You better learn your place, you pest!” he said with a smirk as his eyes shined, Mark pushed back as he shouted. “Quit it!” He then takes his arm back and strikes at his Keyblade forcing Mark to lose his balance and take a heavy hit, he groans as he picks himself up as Ratcliffe goes in for another hit, Mark uses his Keyblade and deflects the incoming attack.

Mark pushes back, Ratcliffe was surprised by his sudden strength, he then pushes him away and sends a Firaga on Ratcliffe, he aimed for his hat causing him to suddenly have his hat set on fire, Ratcliffe panics as he quickly acts and heads towards the river puts the blaze out of his now burnt hat. “Why you ungrateful pest!” He charges out of the water and heads towards Pocahontas and John, Mark quickly sends himself towards Ratcliffe and blocks his dagger, they clash as Mark pushes him back,

Ratcliffe takes a step back and lets out a chuckle before reaching into his coat.“And I warned you, didn’t I sport?” Before Mark could react, Ratcliffe pulled out a shotgun. The world slowed. Ratcliffe aimed and fired. Mark’s instincts screamed at him to move, but before he could.. BANG. A body crashed into his side. John Smith. The bullet tore through John’s shoulder, and he collapsed onto the dirt, groaning in pain. Pocahontas screamed. “John!” She rushed to his side, dropping beside him as she pressed her hands to the wound. “No, no, no stay with me.”

Mark’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at Ratcliffe. The governor’s body shuddered. The darkness around him pulsed, growing stronger, tendrils of black mist leaking from his form. Ratcliffe clutched his head, staggering backward. His veins darkened, his eyes flashing gold for a brief moment. Then, as if something inside him snapped, his entire body convulsed. The darkness erupted.

A shadowy aura engulfed him, warping his form, twisting him into something monstrous. His armor cracked, his fingers lengthening into clawed, gnarled hands. His eyes glowed with a sickly yellow light as his body became something no longer human. A monstrous Heartless-like form took his place, standing tall and menacing, its mouth twisted into a cruel grin. Mark’s heart pounded in his chest. It’s too late. The darkness already took him. He took a step forward, with his Keyblade as he glared at the creature before him.

Mark’s grip tightened on his Keyblade as the monstrous, Heartless-like form of Ratcliffe loomed before him, its yellow eyes gleaming with hunger. The creature let out a guttural growl, its twisted fingers flexing as if savoring the destruction it had already caused. Behind him, Pocahontas clutched John Smith’s arm, struggling to keep him steady while Kocoum groaned in pain. The Chief stood firm, his warriors ready but visibly shaken by the unnatural horror before them. Mark didn’t hesitate. “Pocahontas, get out of here!” he barked. “Take John and Kocoum now!”

She hesitated, looking between him and the monstrous form of Ratcliffe. “Go!” Mark shouted. Seeing the urgency in his eyes, Pocahontas bit her lip before nodding. She threw John’s arm over her shoulders, and with the help of another warrior, they began moving toward the tree line. Kocoum groaned as two other warriors helped him away. Just as they started to leave, the monster moved.

With unnatural speed, the Heartless-like Ratcliffe lunged forward, swiping one of the warriors aside as if he were nothing. The man flew through the air, crashing into the dirt with a painful thud. The Chief’s men charged. Spears were thrown, but they simply bounced off Ratcliffe’s hardened, corrupted form. The creature let out a deep, echoing laugh before swinging its massive arm, knocking several warriors back. Mark gritted his teeth and acted. The moment Ratcliffe raised his claws to strike down the Chief 

Mark threw himself forward. With a burst of speed, he shoved the Chief out of the way, the claws barely missing him by inches. Instead, they raked against Mark’s side. Pain flared through him as it hit his armor, even with his armor he could feel the pain of the claw, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to let it slow him down.

The Chief stared at Mark, stunned. “Get out of here, now!” Mark growled, clutching his injured side as he struggled to his feet. The Chief hesitated for only a second before signaling his men. “Fall back!” One by one, the warriors retreated, following Pocahontas as she guided them away from the burning village. Mark exhaled, his legs shaky, his wound burning But he wasn’t done yet.

Just as he turned back to face the monster, he felt movement behind him. Pocahontas had returned. She stood beside him, a spear clutched tightly in her hands, her eyes filled with determination. “I’m not leaving Mark, you need help,” she said firmly. Mark was about to protest, but the fire in her gaze silenced him. She wasn’t afraid. She was ready to fight. Mark tightened his grip on his Keyblade, giving her a sharp nod.

*======================*
[ Mark Learned: Colors of the Wind ✨ ]
*======================*
*=====================*
[ Mark Learned: Healing of Wind ✨ ]
*=====================*

Mark wasted no time. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned twin orbs of flame. "Take this!" he shouted, hurling two powerful Firaga blasts toward the monstrous Heartless-Ratcliffe. The fireballs soared through the air, crashing against the creature’s darkened form But they barely left a scorch mark. The Heartless let out a deep, rumbling laugh, its eyes burning with amusement as if mocking Mark’s effort. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, feline.” Mark clicked his tongue, gripping his Keyblade tightly. Pocahontas, spear in hand, darted forward, aiming to strike but before she could reach the creature, a massive, clawed hand swiped at her. “Pocahontas, move!” Mark shouted.

She barely managed to dodge, rolling to the side, her breathing sharp. “I can’t get close!” Mark grunted under his breath. “Then we need another plan!” A gust of wind swirled around them suddenly. Pocahontas closed her eyes, lifting her arms as the wind responded to her call. Leaves swirled, dancing in vibrant colors around them, wrapping Mark and Pocahontas in a protective, mystical force. “Colors of the Wind!” She yelled as a powerful gust of autumn-hued energy enveloped them, forming a shimmering barrier that pulsed with mystical energy. Mark felt the magic settle over him like an invisible Mystic Ward, shielding him from incoming attacks. Pocahontas stood tall beside him, the wind swirling in her hands. “The land, the sky, the spirits they are with us,” she said firmly. Mark gave her a determined nod. “

As the battle raged on, Mark gritted his teeth, his mind racing for a new strategy. Firaga didn’t work, he needed something else. He took a deep breath, gripping his Keyblade tight. “Let’s see how you like this!” he called out. “Aeroga!” A sudden burst of wind erupted from beneath the Heartless-Ratcliffe, swirling with immense force. The powerful gale lifted the monstrous figure off the ground, its darkened form thrashing wildly as it struggled against the wind’s pull.

Pocahontas seized the moment, rushing in with her spear, landing swift strikes on its exposed torso. Mark followed up, leaping into the air and slashing downward with his Keyblade. The Heartless roared, its form flickering as if the attacks were starting to take effect  Then, suddenly, the wind died down. The Heartless landed with a thunderous crash, shaking the entire battlefield. The very air seemed to darken, growing heavier.

Mark’s instincts screamed at him that something was coming. The ground beneath them cracked as dark energy pulsed from the Heartless-Ratcliffe’s core. Shadowy tendrils shot out from the ground, weaving through the battlefield like living vines. The monster let out a twisted laugh. “You pests… You think you can stop me?! I’ll take everything from you!”

The sky turned a sickly shade of purple, storm clouds forming overhead. Mark’s eyes widened as the Heartless suddenly expanded in size, its darkness swelling uncontrollably. Large cannons of pure darkness emerged from the ground, aiming at them. Pocahontas stepped back, gripping her spear tightly. “Mark, what do we do?!” Mark clenched his fists

As the Heartless-Ratcliffe loomed over them, its dark cannons crackled with sinister energy, ready to fire. Pocahontas' "Colors of the Wind" still swirled around her, the vibrant leaves acting as a natural barrier. Mark, however, felt his own protection fade, the Mystic Ward he cast earlier now completely gone.

He barely had time to react before a massive blast of dark energy shot toward him. “Tch  too close!” Mark leaped to the side, rolling just as the attack crashed into the ground where he stood, sending shockwaves of darkness across the battlefield. He had to think fast. Summoning his Keyblade, he raised his free hand, green energy swirling around his body. “Barrier!”

A deep emerald-green aura enveloped him, forming a translucent barrier that shimmered like a force field. Unlike Pocahontas’ colorful wind barrier, this one had a darker, ethereal glow, pulsing like it was alive. The next dark cannon blast smashed against Mark’s Mystic Ward, sending ripples across the protective shell but it held firm. Pocahontas, still shielded by her own wind barrier, called out to him. “Mark! We need to strike together!” Mark nodded, gripping his Keyblade tight, he dropped his barrier. “Then let’s make this count!”

The Heartless-Ratcliffe, growing more restless, swayed and twisted with dark energy, its movements erratic and violent. It swung its monstrous arms, snatching at Mark with blinding speed, aiming to crush him under its weight. Mark was forced to dodge, narrowly avoiding a heavy strike that would’ve crushed him into the earth. He took a glancing hit from the corner of its massive fist, pain jolting through his side. His Mystic Ward flickered slightly, but the barrier held strong.

“Tch!” Mark gritting his teeth. Determined not to fall, he planted his feet firmly on the ground, his eyes narrowing at the looming enemy. With a fierce yell, he flipped backward into the air, his Keyblade glowing with a toxic green aura. “Take this!” Mark's body surged with energy as the toxic aura surrounded him, With newfound strength, he shot forward like a missile, his Keyblade cutting through the air, leaving a trail of dark green poison that surged toward the Heartless. The attack struck, and the poison damage lingered, eating away at the enemy’s form.

The Heartless-Ratcliffe staggered, but it was only for a moment, as it quickly recovered and lunged at Mark with a desperate roar of fury. Not missing a beat, Mark twisted in the air, landing on his feet and instantly gathering more energy. “Toxic Barrage!” He leapt higher this time, spinning in mid-air as he unleashed a barrage of toxic bullets from his Keyblade, each shot hitting its target with pinpoint accuracy. Each bullet exploded upon impact, splattering toxic green goo that splashed across the Heartless and melted away parts of its armor. The Heartless-Ratcliffe recoiled in pain, 

As Mark twisted in the air, landing with grace, his eyes quickly shifted back to the Heartless-Ratcliffe, whose anger seemed to fuel a horrific transformation. With a roar of fury, the Heartless began to contort and shift, its body elongating, morphing into a monstrous wolf-like figure. The new form was massive, covered in shadows, with glowing yellow eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness. Its sharp claws and fangs glistened with malice, and it was far more agile than before, its presence sending ripples of fear through the air.

“This thing’s not holding back anymore,” Mark muttered under his breath, quickly stepping back to avoid the ferocious swipe of the wolf’s claws. Pocahontas, undeterred, prepared herself for another round of combat. She moved to Mark’s side, with Flit and Meeko in tow, ready to help however they could.

Mark gritted his teeth, his mind racing for a solution. Seeing the wolf form charging at them, he summoned Watera, calling upon the element to surge forward in a stream of pressurized water. The blast hit the Heartless wolf directly, causing it to stagger and slow its approach. The water engulfed its limbs, freezing it in place for a brief moment, giving them a window to strike. “Now!” Mark shouted to Pocahontas.

With a swift motion, Mark dashed in, his Keyblade glowing with power as he combined his attacks. He slashed across the Heartless’s side, leaving a trail of lightning-fast strikes, the power of each blow causing the creature to flinch and growl in pain. Pocahontas, seeing her chance, summoned a barrage of leaf-shaped projectiles, the spirits of the wind that she sent hurtling toward the vulnerable spot in the Heartless’s armor. The flurry of natural energy pushed it back, but the creature was still not down. It let out a howl of rage, causing the ground to quake beneath them.

As the Heartless lunged forward, its ferocious claws slashed through the air with incredible speed, catching Mark off guard. He barely managed to dodge, but one of the wolf's massive paws caught him across the chest, sending him skidding across the ground. The pain seared through him, and he could feel his strength waning as the world around him began to blur. “Mark!” Pocahontas cried out, rushing toward him.

She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands glowing with a gentle, green aura that emanated from her palm. "Healing of Wind!" she whispered, and with that, a wave of soft green light enveloped him. Mark could feel the energy coursing through him, his wounds slowly closing, the pain receding as his strength returned bit by bit. The healing was slow, but it was enough to keep him in the fight. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he rose back to his feet, wiping away blood from his brow. “Thanks,” he muttered, feeling the twinge of his injuries still, but his body was whole enough to continue.

As he focused on the battle, however, a new sense of darkness began to gather in the air. The Heartless, now enraged, began to glow with sinister energy, its body twisting as the world around them started to darken. The once peaceful forest began to wilt, as though life itself was being drained away by the monstrous Heartless. The trees shuddered, and the ground cracked, as if everything was being pulled into the darkness. “It’s trying to drain the world!” Mark shouted, his voice strained as he readied his Keyblade. The darkness was spiraling out of control. Pocahontas, determination flashing in her eyes, took a deep breath. “We can’t let it win. We have to stop it, now.”

With a nod, Mark focused, feeling the connection to his Keyblade deep in his chest. The Heartless, now in its final attack, began to form shadow tendrils that reached out in all directions, trying to suck the very essence of the world into the void. It roared in fury, the darkness growing ever more intense. Mark and Pocahontas exchanged a silent look, their connection now more solidified than ever. The bond between them was unspoken, their will to protect this world aligning perfectly. With a final shout, Pocahontas summoned the spirits of the wind once more, conjuring a whirlwind of leaves that spiraled around Mark and herself, acting as a barrier against the darkness.

Mark, with a defiant cry, raised his Keyblade high and launched a blazing surge of light straight at the Heartless. The wave of light collided with the Heartless’s dark form, the two forces battling each other in an explosive clash. The Heartless let out a scream of agony as the light overpowered the darkness, its monstrous form beginning to crack and disintegrate. Finally, with a violent explosion, the Heartless shattered into a blinding burst of light and shadow, vanishing into the wind. The darkness that had been suffocating the world faded, and the forest slowly began to heal.

Mark collapsed to one knee, breathing heavily. "We... did it," he gasped, his energy drained but satisfied. Pocahontas stood beside him, her breath equally labored, but her face lit up with a relieved smile. “We did,” she said softly, looking out over the now-peaceful forest. The once-threatening darkness had dissipated, leaving only the calm wind and the chirping of birds in its wake.

As the last remnants of darkness faded away, the world slowly began to restore itself. The trees stood tall again, their branches reaching toward the sky, their leaves vibrant and alive. The once wilting plants began to bloom, their petals unfolding, and the air was crisp and fresh, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of nature’s return.

Mark stood up, still feeling the weight of the battle but relieved that the worst was over. He watched as Pocahontas rushed over to John, her face filled with worry, her hands glowing with a soft green light as she tried to heal his wounds. Mark could sense the lingering heaviness of the moment as he walked toward Kocoum’s fallen form.

Kocoum lay motionless, his body battered and broken from the battle. Mark knelt down beside him, his heart heavy. He reached out, preparing to use a Cura spell that could heal even the most grievous wounds but before he could cast it, Kocoum’s eyes flickered open. “No… don’t,” Kocoum whispered, his voice weak but firm. “There’s no time.” He gripped Mark’s hand weakly, a faint smile on his face despite the pain. “I’ve made peace with this. You’ve done enough, stranger. You’ve done more than anyone could ask.”

Mark shook his head, his voice filled with frustration. “You don’t have to go like this. Let me help.” Kocoum’s eyes softened, and he gave a final nod. “I… I’m sorry, I wasn’t able to protect her…” His breath slowed as he looked toward Pocahontas from afar. “Take care of her. She’s… special.” Mark felt a lump in his throat but nodded solemnly. “I will. Rest now.”

A few hours passed, and Pocahontas finished helping John, her face a mixture of relief and sadness. John, though injured, was conscious and slowly recovering. His eyes met Pocahontas with gratitude, but also sorrow for the loss of Kocoum. The Chief approached Mark, his face a blend of gratitude and respect. Despite the losses, he was thankful for the efforts Mark had put in to save his people, his land. “You have helped us more than we could have ever hoped,” the Chief said. “You are not just a stranger in this world anymore.”

Mark looked at him, humbled, as the Chief reached into a pouch and pulled out something wrapped in cloth. He unfolded it carefully, revealing a handmade Keychain. The chain had four silver rings, each one intricately linked, and beneath each ring was a different colored leaf, each leaf representing the seasons. The end of the chain held a cowrie shell, its surface smooth and polished, but the teeth had been carved out in the shape of a diamond.

The Chief placed the chain into Mark’s hands, his expression serious but appreciative. “This is a gift,” he said. “A symbol of the bond between you and us. It will remind you that you are always welcome here, no matter where you go. You have shown us what it means to fight for what’s right.” Mark looked at the chain, the weight of its significance settling into his chest. He could feel the energy of the forest, the life of the land, and the spirit of Pocahontas’s people in the chain’s design.

“Thank you,” Mark said softly, his voice full of emotion. The gift felt like more than just an item; it was a reminder of the connections he had made, of the world he had fought to protect, and of the people who had come to mean so much to him in such a short time. As Mark tied the chain around his neck, Pocahontas walked over to him, her face gentle. “Thank you,” she said quietly, her eyes searching for him. “I don’t know what we would have done without you.” Mark smiled softly, looking out toward the now-peaceful forest. “I’m just glad I could help.”

Suddenly, a Keyhole appeared before him, glowing faintly with a soft, golden light, beckoning him. Mark’s heart raced as he stepped closer, feeling an unspoken connection between him and the Keyhole. As his hand reached out, the Keyblade hummed in his grip, the blade flickering with energy, and Mark instinctively brought it forward.

With a deep breath, he inserted the Keyblade into the Keyhole, the sound of metal meeting metal reverberating through the air. The world around him began to tremble, the ground beneath his feet shaking. The walls around them blurred, fading into a haze of color and light, the scenery shifting and distorting. It was as if the world itself were folding in on itself. The swirling colors of nature and light began to collapse inward.

Then, with a brilliant flash, everything stopped. Mark was standing in the Realm of Light, a place he recognized familiar skies, the soft glow of the sun, and the whispering winds. But before he could even take in the change, the ground beneath him shifted again. A sudden pull gripped him, and in the blink of an eye, he was no longer in the Realm of Light. Mark tumbled through an abyss of swirling darkness, his feet barely touching the ground. He could feel the darkness closing in, as if it were swallowing him whole, but the pull was not one of malice, just a strange, familiar force.

In an instant, Mark found himself standing in the Realm of Darkness, a place of swirling shadows and uncertainty. His eyes adjusted to the dim environment, and he could feel the weight of this place pressing against him, like it was testing his resolve. Before he could get his bearings, Mark turned back toward the Mystic Woods. Though the darkness surrounded him, he managed to glance back toward the glowing world of nature, where he had just been. With a small wave and a soft smile, he raised his hand, signaling the people he had just left.

Though he couldn't speak to them, there was a sense of peace in the gesture. He knew they were safe, at least for now, and that was enough. For a brief moment, he felt the weight of the journey he had just completed and yet, he knew that his path was far from over. The next adventure awaited, and he would face whatever darkness came next. With a sigh, Mark gripped the Keyblade once again, the familiar weight of it in his hand grounding him in the now. As he stood in the Realm of Darkness, he could feel the Keyblade’s hum slowly fade away, he began to walk forward as he smiled knowing that he just helped another world..

Chapter 5: Depths of Darkness & Voyager’s Haven

Mark found himself standing once again in the Depths of Darkness, the oppressive air thick with swirling shadows. The familiar weight of his Keyblade rested in his grip, its soft glow barely cutting through the gloom. He took a slow breath, steadying himself, when something in the distance caught his eye, a towering structure in the middle of the dark expanse. It loomed against the horizon, jagged and ancient, as if it had always been there, waiting. Mark narrowed his eyes and started toward it, his boots crunching softly against the cold, lifeless ground. The closer he got, the more ominous the tower felt, its darkened stone seeming to pulse with unseen energy.

Mark didn’t hesitate. He leapt up onto the nearest ledge, grabbing hold of the rough stone. Scaling the tower wasn’t easy; the surface was slick, and the air carried an unsettling chill. Shadows curled around the edges, reaching for him like unseen hands. But he pushed forward, climbing higher and higher, his instincts driving him toward the top. After what felt like an eternity, Mark finally reached a platform near the peak. His breath came in steady but heavy exhales as he took a step forward and there, in the center of the platform, sat a chest. Its surface was etched with strange patterns, glowing faintly with an eerie light.

Mark approached cautiously, gripping his Keyblade tightly. He twisted his wrist, spinning the Keyblade in a quick flourish before bringing it down. The sharp teeth of the blade hooked onto the chest's lock, and with a swift flick of his wrist, he twisted it open. A faint click echoed in the air, and then the chest burst open, releasing a small pulse of energy. Mark took a step back, watching as light briefly illuminated the platform before settling into a soft glow.

*=================*
[ Mark Learned: Poisonga ✨ ]
*=================*

Mark carefully descended the tower, leaping from ledge to ledge with practiced ease. The Depths of Darkness stretched endlessly around him, the vast void swallowing all sound except for his own movements. His boots landed with a soft thud as he finally reached solid ground again. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders before starting forward. but something else began clawing at his thoughts. A memory surfaced.

The darkness around him seemed to melt away, replaced by the warm glow of flickering candlelight. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and ink, and before him stood a figure draped in a long, dark robe of his first master, Silas. Master Silas was an old man, his face lined with the wisdom of years. His silvered hair was slicked back, revealing sharp yet weary eyes. He held himself with quiet authority, his hands clasped behind his back. Unlike Mark, he was not a feline, he was human, a Keyblade Master of old, one who had seen and endured much.

In his grip was his Keyblade, the Natrium Enhancer, a sleek, intricate weapon, adorned with a metallic sheen and flowing, Gold and Silver designs. It was said to amplify one’s Magical energy, strengthening magic far beyond its normal limits. Silas regarded Mark with a solemn expression. His form was still strong, but Mark could sense the weakness creeping into his mentor’s body. "Mark," Silas began, his voice deep yet soft. "It is time. My strength… wanes, and I will not be able to continue your training much longer."

Mark’s ears flicked slightly, his tail stiffening as his golden eyes widened. "Master Silas…?" The old Keyblade Master gave him a small, knowing smile. "I have watched you grow, and you have come far, but your journey is not over." He paused, then turned slightly, gesturing to someone waiting in the shadows.

Mark followed his gaze, and from the dim candlelight emerged another figure Master Yen Sid. Draped in his signature blue robe, the wise sorcerer regarded Mark with a calm, measuring gaze. His long beard and aged features mirrored wisdom beyond comprehension. Though his presence was not as physically commanding as Silas’s, the sheer aura of power surrounding him was undeniable. "Master Yen Sid will take you in, and continue what I have started," Silas continued. "You are strong, Mark… but there is still much for you to learn." Mark clenched his fists, his ears drooping slightly as the realization fully sank in.

"But I don’t-" He cut himself off, gritting his teeth before sighing, shoulders slumping. He knew there was no changing this. Silas stepped forward, placing a firm yet gentle hand on Mark’s shoulder. "You are destined for greater things than even I can guide you toward. Trust in the path ahead." Mark met his old master’s gaze one last time before giving a slow, respectful nod. As the memory faded, Mark found himself standing still in the Depths of Darkness, his claws slightly clenched at his sides. "Master Silas..." He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply before exhaling. Then, steeling himself, he pressed forward once more.

*==================*
[Mark obtained: Retaliation ✨ ]
*==================*

Then a spark. His Keyblade pulsed faintly in his grip, a soft glimmer of light flickering along its metallic surface. Mark’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the glow intensify for a moment before fading again. Something inside him urged him to act. His instincts kicked in. Gripping his Keyblade with both hands, he held it forward, pointing it toward the open air.

For an instant he saw it. A shimmering, spectral chain, extending into the unknown. Faint, fragile, but unmistakably there. It was like a tether, a link to something beyond the veil. Mark didn’t hesitate. With a sharp thrust, he struck the chain with his Keyblade. A powerful force yanked him forward.

The moment Mark’s Keyblade clashed against the spectral chain, a surge of energy pulsed through him. The world around him twisted and warped, shadows peeling away as an invisible force pulled him forward. It was like being yanked through a rushing current, weightless yet forcefully propelled through the unknown. His ears flattened against his head as he braced himself, gripping his Keyblade tightly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Then Light. The suffocating darkness was ripped away, replaced by the warm glow of a golden sun. The scent of saltwater and tropical air filled his nose as the sound of crashing waves reached his ears. Mark stumbled slightly, his boots sinking into soft, warm sand. A beach. He looked around, ears flicking as he took in his surroundings. The ocean stretched endlessly before him, its waters shimmering under the sunlight. A gentle breeze rustled the palm trees scattered along the shore, their leaves swaying lazily in the wind. "Where… am I?" he muttered, his tail twitching as he tried to process what had just happened.

This new world felt different. He wasn't on a beach anymore, but the tropical vibe was still there. Dense, vibrant greenery surrounded him in all directions, with towering trees reaching for the sky and thick vines hanging from branches. He could hear the call of distant birds and the rustle of leaves as animals moved through the forest. The sound of the ocean still hummed in the background, just out of sight, and the air felt charged with the energy of this place.

As Mark took in his surroundings, a figure appeared at the edge of the jungle, stepping through the dense undergrowth with ease. It was a young woman, her skin a medium brown, her long, wavy black hair flowing freely behind her as she moved. The breeze caught her hair, making it sway gracefully. She wore a simple, yet strong expression as she approached, her brown eyes scanning the area.

She wore a distinctive loincloth-like outfit, with a sash wrapped around her waist, and a pendant on a string around her neck. The rest of her clothes seemed designed for movement, practical for someone used to living off the land. She stepped confidently onto the path leading through the jungle and into the open space where Mark stood.

Her eyes met his, narrowing slightly as she approached. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice calm yet authoritative. Mark instinctively straightened himself up, a little caught off guard but not backing down. "I’m Mark… Where am I?" "This is my home," she replied firmly, her eyes assessing him. "You’re not from here, are you?" Her gaze lingered for a moment before she spoke again, this time softer. "I’m Moana. I will protect this place."

Mark took a step forward, still processing the way the world felt so different from the last one. "I... didn’t mean to end up here. I was... pulled through a chain of some sort. But I think it’s my job to help fix things around your world." Moana raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Fix things?" she echoed. "This world is fine. It’s the ocean that needs help. I’ve been chosen to sail it, to restore balance. But something’s wrong. The winds are shifting, and the sea is restless."

Mark studied her for a moment. Something about her confidence and purpose reminded him of himself, a person drawn to something much bigger than themselves. And yet, she also radiated the warmth of someone who was in tune with the world around her, something Mark always tried to be despite the chaos of his own life. "I can feel it," Mark said, his tail flicking slightly behind him. "There's something dark, something wrong with the tides. If you need help... maybe I can do something." Moana’s expression softened. "You can help. We need to understand what’s happening. The balance of the ocean is in danger. Maybe together, we can set things right."

As Moana guided Mark through the village, the bustling energy of the people preparing for the evening was apparent, but it felt calm, a place where people had lived in harmony with nature for centuries. She led him to a place where he could rest and gave him a brief tour before disappearing into a larger structure that seemed to stand tall among the others. It was obvious that Moana had a big day ahead, especially with her upcoming crowning ceremony, but she had a quiet confidence about her that made it clear she was ready for the responsibility.

Mark wandered through the village, his curiosity leading him to explore more of this fascinating world. The structures were built harmoniously with nature, each home woven into the landscape with materials from the forest and ocean, woven palm leaves, stone, and driftwood. The light from torches flickered, casting warm, dancing shadows on the pathways as the sun began to set behind the horizon.

But as time passed, he found himself lost in thought as much as he was lost in the village. It was peaceful, but isolating. As much as he tried to focus on the sounds and smells of the ocean, Mark’s mind kept drifting back to the chaos of his own journey. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing, that there was still more he had to do, more worlds to protect.

But as the village grew quiet and the evening stretched on, something caught his eye. The shimmering light of the sea just beyond the village’s edge was calling to him. He moved to the shore, where the soft winds and the calming sound of the waves allowed his mind to settle, at least for a moment. Inspired by the connection he felt with this new world and Moana’s bond with the sea, Mark began to gather sea shells, leaves, and other small treasures he found scattered on the beach. It was almost instinctive as he started to create a Wayfinder token, something to remind him of both this world and the people he met here.

The first one was for himself. He shaped it delicately, adding seashells to represent the ocean’s life force, and a few leaves symbolizing the harmony between the land and sea. It felt right in his hands like a reminder that there were always paths to take, even when the journey seemed unclear. For Moana, Mark crafted another Wayfinder, a slightly larger version more intricate, with woven twine and wooden beads, representing her connection to her people and the island. It felt like it belonged to her, and Mark couldn’t help but smile as he added the final touch.

But as the hours passed, he realized just how late it had gotten. The night had crept up on him as he worked, and the village had already begun to settle into sleep. Mark carefully pocketed both Wayfinders, turning to head back to the village. The path seemed more shadowed now, and the once calm atmosphere had shifted into something heavier, something he couldn’t quite place.

As he made his way back to the village, a dark presence lingered. From the corner of his eye, he saw shadows move strange, shifting shapes that did not belong. Heartless. Without hesitation, Mark drew his Keyblade, feeling the weight of it in his grip. The air around him seemed to tense, the familiar sensation of the darkness rising up from within him. He quickly spun, his eyes searching the area for any signs of the enemies that would be near.

The Heartless emerged from the shadows, their twisted, black forms rising out of the earth, their yellow eyes glowing ominously. Mark didn’t hesitate. He launched into action, unleashing a Fiery blast of Firaga at the nearest group, scattering them across the landscape. The fire, though effective, didn’t completely wipe them out. 

He quickly shifted stances, his Keyblade glowing as he slashed through the group of Heartless. The battle raged on for a few minutes, Mark’s movements swift and decisive. But just when he thought they were finally out of sight, a new wave of Heartless appeared, surrounding him. It was then he realized the intensity of the situation he needed to finish them fast, and without drawing more attention to the village.

With a swift motion, Mark summoned a quick Aeroga, blasting the remaining Heartless off their feet and into the water. They vanished into the shadows, returning from whence they came. Mark stood, taking a moment to catch his breath before he noticed the distant glow of the village, still peaceful under the cover of the night. But his instincts were sharp and there was no time to rest.

He made his way back up the hill and to the top of the village, where the temple-like structure stood, overlooking the sea. The air was thick with the promise of change, and as Mark ascended, he couldn’t help but feel a growing unease within him, like something was about to happen, something he might not be able to stop.

He pushed open the doors to the structure, where Moana was preparing for her crowning. Candles lit the room in soft flickering light, and a quiet hum filled the air. The weight of the moment had settled over the village, and the shadows of the night seemed to recede just a little. Moana turned to face him as he entered, a small smile crossing her lips. But Mark noticed the tension in her shoulders, the weight of what was about to happen. 

As Mark stepped into the room, his gaze immediately met Moana’s father, Chief Tui. The chief, with his strong posture and wise eyes, stood near the center of the room, overseeing the preparations. His expression softened as he looked up at Moana and then shifted to Mark, who was standing at the door. Chief Tui furrowed his brow, his voice firm but respectful. "And who might this be, Moana?"

Moana smiled warmly at her father before stepping forward. She gestured to Mark, introducing him with a glint of pride in her voice. "This is Mark. He’s... from another world. He's been traveling through different lands, helping to protect them."

The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and Mark noticed the cautious look in Chief Tui’s eyes as he processed the information. The air was thick with the unspoken, as Tui studied Mark, clearly intrigued but not entirely convinced. Mark shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t told anyone much about himself, not in detail. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, it was just that there was too much going on. He hadn’t even really helped out yet. His journey had been more about keeping the peace and looking for ways to restore balance, but this was different. Moana’s world had its own fight to win.

"I’m from another world, yes," Mark began, his tone thoughtful but careful. "I’m here to help, but right now, my focus is bringing this world back into the Realm of Light. There’s a lot I can’t explain just yet, but I’m doing what I can." Chief Tui watched him carefully, his expression unreadable for a long moment. The silence stretched, and Mark could feel the weight of Tui’s gaze. As a leader, he was used to taking in information and assessing people carefully before fully trusting them. This wasn’t the first time Mark had been under such scrutiny, and he understood it.

"I haven’t done much yet," Mark continued, his voice steady but humble. "I’ve been learning about the village and its people... I haven’t had the chance to truly lend a hand. But when the time comes, I’ll do whatever I can to help protect you and your world." Moana’s father didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he exchanged a look with his wife, Sina, who was standing nearby. After a brief moment of silent communication, he nodded, though still a bit wary.

"You have your journey ahead of you, Mark," Chief Tui said, his voice more measured. "And as much as I’d like to believe that you’re here with the best intentions, we’ve seen many dangers before. But Moana believes in you... so, for now, I will trust her judgment." Mark gave a respectful nod, grateful that the chief wasn’t dismissing him outright. "Thank you, Chief Tui." Moana smiled at the exchange, the weight of her father’s approval somewhat lifting the air. But she could sense that there was still a long way to go before everyone in the village fully accepted Mark’s presence.

With the introduction over, Moana gestured for Mark to follow her as she continued her preparations. The ceremony was still some time away, but her father’s words lingered in Mark’s mind. He hadn’t proven himself yet not in the way he hoped but the road ahead was still long. For now, he would take it one step at a time. The people of this world, including Moana’s father, would need to see that his intentions were true

That night, as the village settled into quiet peace, Mark and Moana made their way to their respective resting places. The moon hung high above, casting a soft silver glow over the tranquil surroundings. Before they parted ways, Mark hesitated for a moment, something tugging at his chest. He had spent the last few hours crafting something a small token, but one with meaning. As Moana began to turn toward her hut, Mark called out softly, “Moana, wait.” She paused, turning back toward him, a curious look in her eyes. “What is it?”

Mark stepped forward, pulling out the Wayfinder he had made for her earlier that evening. It was small, but it had taken time and care. The leaves and seashells were carefully woven into a small pendant-like charm, and the two-way chain shimmered with a gentle glow, catching the moonlight. He held it out to her, his gaze steady. “I made this for you,” he said quietly, “I thought you might need something... to remind you that you’re not alone, even when things get tough.”

Moana’s eyes softened as she looked at the intricate charm. The leaf, the shells everything about it seemed to speak to the heart of the world she lived in, her heritage, and her journey. She reached out to take it, her fingers brushing against his. “Mark,” she said, her voice quiet but sincere, “thank you. This means a lot to me.” Mark gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’re welcome. I... just wanted to do something for you. For everything you’ve done.”

Moana looked down at the Wayfinder once more, her hand gently wrapping around it. She then looked back at Mark with a smile. “I’ll keep it with me, always.” With a final glance, she headed inside her hut, leaving Mark standing beneath the stars, feeling a small sense of warmth and connection. There was still so much to do, but perhaps this simple gesture had bridged a gap, something tangible for her to hold onto, as she did for him.

The next morning, the sun rose with a gentle warmth, casting a golden hue over the village. Mark awoke early, ready to help out however he could. He had come to this world to assist, to help restore balance, but he knew that it wasn’t all about big battles or grand gestures. Sometimes, it was the small things at work, the daily acts of support that made a difference. As he made his way through the village, Moana found him again, smiling at the sight of him. “Good morning! Ready to help out today?” Mark nodded. “Of course. What do you need me to do?”

Moana led him toward a few villagers who were busy with morning tasks, and soon Mark found himself pitching in carrying baskets of food, helping to repair some of the structures, and even learning a few tricks from the locals. The work was simple but fulfilling, and Mark found himself connecting with the people in ways he hadn’t expected. Each small task was a step toward earning their trust, and a reminder that it wasn’t always the grand adventures that mattered the most. As the day wore on, Mark couldn’t help but feel more at ease. He was no longer just an outsider; he was becoming part of their world, even if just for a short while. And with each small act of kindness, each connection forged, he began to feel more hopeful about the road ahead.

As the day wore on and the villagers saw how much Mark had helped, they insisted he take a break. Though he didn’t mind the work, he nodded in gratitude and made his way down toward the beach, where the sea breeze was cool against his fur. The scent of salt and the sound of gentle waves washing ashore brought a sense of peace, something he hadn't felt in a long time. As he walked along the shore, he spotted Moana and her grandmother, Tala, near the water. Moana was holding a small piece of driftwood while Tala traced shapes into the wet sand with her fingers. Their laughter was light and carefree, a stark contrast to the weight of responsibility they both carried. Mark hesitated for a moment, not wanting to intrude, but Moana noticed him and waved him over. “Hey, Mark! Come sit with us,” she called with a smile.

He walked over and sat down beside them, stretching his legs out as he gazed at the horizon. "What are you two up to?" Tala chuckled. "Just sharing stories, as we often do. The ocean carries many, after all." She glanced at Mark with a knowing twinkle in her eye. "And I imagine you have quite a few of your own." Moana nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you've been pretty quiet about your journey. What’s it been like?"

Mark exhaled slowly, staring at the waves as he gathered his thoughts. "It’s been... a lot," he admitted. "I’ve been traveling across different worlds, trying to bring them back into the Realm of Light. It’s my mission, I guess. But it’s not as simple as just fighting Heartless or unlocking Keyholes. Every world has its own struggles, its own people trying to survive. I’ve seen hope, but I’ve also seen loss." Moana listened intently while Tala simply nodded, letting him speak.

"There have been times I’ve felt completely alone," he continued, his voice quieter. "Even though I fight to protect others, I sometimes wonder if I’m really making a difference. If I'm just passing through, leaving people to fight their own battles when I move on." Tala placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Every voyager leaves ripples in the water, Mark. Even if you don’t see the effect immediately, the ocean remembers every step you take." Moana smiled softly. "You've already made a difference here, even if you don’t see it yet. And you're not alone, not really."

Mark looked at the Wayfinder hanging from her neck, the one he had given her the night before. He touched his own for a brief moment before nodding. "Maybe you’re right. I just... I guess I needed to hear that." Tala chuckled again. "Then perhaps the ocean brought you here for a reason." Mark let the words settle, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. Maybe there was more to his journey than just fulfilling a duty

As Mark sat by the shore, listening to the waves and the distant hum of villagers going about their day, his mind drifted. His fingers brushed against the Wayfinder around his neck, and suddenly, the world around him blurred. A memory surfaced a moment from long ago, just after he had become a Keyblade Master.

The air in the grand study of Master Yen Sid was heavy with the scent of parchment and candle wax. The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of floating candles and the distant twinkle of stars beyond the window. Mark stood tall before the grand desk where the wise sorcerer sat, his aged hands resting upon the worn wooden surface.

"You have proven yourself, Mark," Yen Sid spoke, his deep voice steady yet filled with weight. "Through trials of strength, wisdom, and heart, you have earned the title of Keyblade Master." Mark’s ears flicked slightly, still not used to hearing it. "Master…" he murmured, gripping his Keyblade tighter at his side. He had trained for years, had fought tooth and claw for this moment. But now that it was here, it felt different than he expected, heavier, somehow.

Yen Sid studied him carefully before continuing. "But with this title comes great responsibility. The balance of the worlds is fragile. Darkness grows ever persistent, seeking to consume what remains of the Light. Your duty, as a Keyblade Master, is to ensure that does not happen." The sorcerer waved a hand, and before them, a glowing map of various worlds shimmered into existence, their lights pulsating like stars in the night sky. Some flickered dimly, on the verge of being extinguished.

"Each world possesses a Keyhole, the very heart of its existence," Yen Sid explained. "The Heartless seek to corrupt and consume these Keyholes, leading to the world's collapse into darkness. Your mission, Mark, is to journey to these worlds, locate their Keyholes, and seal them before it is too late." Mark inhaled sharply. This was his true purpose. His ears lowered slightly as the weight of the task settled upon his shoulders. "Understood, Master Yen Sid," he said firmly, his tail flicking behind him with determination. "I won't fail."

Yen Sid gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable. "Your heart is strong, Mark. But strength alone is not enough. Remember that no Keyblade Wielder walks this path alone. The Light is always with you, even in the deepest darkness. Trust in it... and in yourself." Mark felt his Keyblade hum in his grip, as if resonating with the words. He bowed his head slightly. "I will," he promised. With a final motion of Yen Sid's hand, the map of worlds faded, and the old sorcerer dismissed him. As Mark turned to leave, stepping through the great doors of the study, he couldn't shake the feeling that this journey would be far more than just a mission. 

The memory faded, and Mark found himself back on the beach of Voyager’s Haven, the sound of waves replacing the echo of Master Yen Sid’s voice. He exhaled slowly, tightening his grip on his Wayfinder. "Seal the Keyholes... protect the Light," he murmured to himself, staring out at the endless horizon.

Moana glanced over at Mark, who was staring out at the waves, deep in thought. She and her grandmother had been weaving together small fishing nets, but Mark hadn’t joined in he just sat there, quiet, lost in his own world. After a moment, she set her work down and nudged him lightly with her elbow. "So, do you actually do anything around here?" she teased, a small smirk on her face. Mark blinked and turned to her, his tail flicking slightly. "Huh?"

"You know," Moana said, tilting her head. "Like… Do you have any hobbies? Anything you like to do besides standing around and looking all mysterious?" Mark chuckled slightly at that, shaking his head. "Not really. I pretty much just train with my Keyblade," he admitted. Moana raised an eyebrow. "That’s it? No sailing? No fishing? No carving things out of wood?"

He shook his head again. "Nope. Just training. Master Yen Sid always told me that as a Keyblade Wielder, I had to be ready for anything. So… I train. I fight. I move to the next world, and I do it all over again." Moana frowned slightly. "That sounds… exhausting." Mark shrugged. "It's what I signed up for." Her grandmother, who had been quietly listening, chuckled softly. "A warrior’s path is a lonely one if he does not take the time to enjoy the world he fights for."

Mark glanced down at the sand, her words lingering in his mind. Had he ever really stopped to enjoy the places he visited? The people he met? Moana nudged him again. "Well, maybe you should try something new while you're here. Just saying." Mark looked at her for a moment before sighing and leaning back on his hands. "Maybe." Moana grinned. "That wasn’t a no!" Mark chuckled, shaking his head. 

Mark pushed himself up from the sand, brushing off the grains that clung to his fur. "I need to go train," he said, his voice calm but firm. Moana tilted her head at him. "Right now?" He nodded. "Yeah. Gotta stay sharp." She sighed but smiled. "Alright, go do your thing, warrior cat. Just don’t pass out or anything." Mark smirked slightly before turning away, summoning his Keyblade as he made his way toward a more open area of the beach. He needed to keep improving his last battle had taken a lot out of him, and he couldn’t afford to slack off.

For the next few hours, he trained relentlessly. He started with basic swings, refining his form before moving into more complex techniques. He ran through rapid combo strikes, practiced his spellcasting, and worked on his speed, dodging imaginary attacks as if he were in a real fight. Then, he pushed himself even harder. He focused on chaining together attacks, mixing in magic to enhance his strikes. Firaga, Watera, Aeroga, each spell flowed seamlessly into his movements as he leaped and spun with precision. His breathing grew heavy, his muscles burned, but he didn’t stop.

He couldn't stop. As he was about to start another round, he suddenly heard a voice. "Are you always this hard on yourself?" Mark turned, panting slightly, to see Moana standing nearby, arms crossed, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He wiped some sweat from his brow and straightened up. "Gotta be ready," he said simply. She frowned. "Yeah, but... you look like you're about to drop." Mark shook his head. "I’m fine." Moana stepped closer, raising an eyebrow. "Mark, I’ve seen my dad and the other warriors train, but even they take breaks. Why are you pushing yourself so hard?" Mark hesitated, gripping his Keyblade tightly. "Because if I don’t... I might not be strong enough next time."

Moana’s expression softened. She didn't know exactly what he had been through, but she could tell there was a lot weighing on him. "Just don’t forget to breathe, okay?" she said gently. "You’re not fighting anything right now." Mark exhaled slowly, finally lowering his Keyblade. "Yeah... okay." Moana smiled. "Good. Now, how about you come and eat something before you collapse?" Mark gave a tired chuckle. "Yeah... maybe that’s not a bad idea."

*==================*
[Mark obtained: Mizu-Burst✨ ]
*==================*

After eating with Moana and the others, Mark settled in for the night, but sleep didn’t come easy. Every time he closed his eyes, memories of past battles, lost worlds, and the looming darkness crept into his mind. He tossed and turned, unable to shake the unease clawing at his chest. Then, the nightmare came. He saw a storm of darkness swallowing everything. The shadows twisting into monstrous figures, consuming the worlds he fought so hard to protect. He was running, but no matter how fast he moved, he couldn’t reach them in time. The cries of those he left behind echoed in his ears. Then, he saw himself, standing alone in the void. His Keyblade shattered. His strength is gone. And then… nothing.

Mark jolted awake, gasping for air. His fur was damp with sweat, and his heart was pounding against his ribs. Sitting up, he ran a hand over his face, trying to shake the vision from his mind. He needed air. Quietly, he slipped out of his resting spot, moving through the village unnoticed. The cool night air helped clear his thoughts as he made his way to the beach. The waves rolled in gently, their rhythmic sound somewhat soothing. But then, he noticed something or rather, someone. Moana.

She was at the shore, standing next to a small boat. Her eyes were teary, her expression determined but full of conflict. He saw her clutching the sail, taking deep breaths as if trying to convince herself to go through with it. “Moana?” Mark called softly. She turned sharply, surprised to see him. “Mark?” She quickly wiped her face, trying to hide her tears. “What are you doing here?” “I could ask you the same thing,” he said, stepping closer. His eyes flicked to the boat. “…You’re leaving.”

Moana hesitated, then nodded. “I have to. The ocean chose me, but my dad won't let me go. He doesn’t understand that I need to do this.” She looked down. “I thought I could be the leader they want me to be, but… something’s calling me out there. I have to find out what it is.” Mark was quiet for a moment. He understood that feeling all too well the pull of destiny, the weight of expectation. She looked at him, eyes searching his face. “Come with me.” Mark blinked. “What?”

“You don’t belong here, right? You’re on a journey, just like me.” She took a step forward. “So let’s go together. I know the ocean wants me to find something, and maybe… maybe it’s connected to what you’re looking for too.” Mark glanced at the boat, then at Moana. He had no idea where this journey would take them, but deep down, something told him this was the right choice. “…Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s go.”

Moana’s face lit up with relief, and she quickly motioned for him to get in. He climbed aboard, steadying himself as Moana set the sail. He noticed Heihei, the chicken, sitting in the corner of the boat, staring blankly at nothing. Moana pushed them off, guiding the boat through a secret passage in the reef. The water shimmered under the moonlight as they sailed out into the open ocean, the village growing smaller in the distance. As the island disappeared behind them

As the boat drifted further into the vast ocean, Mark took a moment to check their supplies. Moana was focused on navigating, the wind filling the sail as the stars twinkled above them. The rhythmic sound of the waves was oddly calming after everything that had happened. Mark knelt near the storage area and reached for the food supply. As he lifted the pot lid, his ears twitched. The food... moved? His eyes widened as he slowly lifted the pot all the way up only to come face to face with a blank-eyed, slack-beaked chicken.

"Augh!" Mark yelped, stumbling back. "Ah!" Heihei shrieked in response, flapping his wings wildly. Mark scrambled to his feet, tail puffed up in alarm. "Moana there’s a demon in the food!" Moana whipped around, her hands gripping the boat to steady herself. The second she saw Heihei, she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh, for the love of Heihei!"

The chicken simply blinked at them, tilting his head. Mark and Heihei stared at each other for a moment, still tense. Then, at the exact same time, they both screamed again. "Ah!" "Baaaawk!" Moana groaned. "Oh, come on!" She grabbed Heihei and held him up. "Mark, this is Heihei. He’s an idiot, not a demon."

Mark put a hand on his chest, catching his breath. "He.. he was in the pot!" "Yeah, he does that," Moana said, deadpan. She set Heihei down, and the chicken immediately pecked at the floorboards as if nothing happened. Mark shook his head in disbelief. "How has he even survived this long?" Moana shrugged. "I ask myself that every day."

Mark exhaled and rubbed his temples. "Alright… okay. Just… warn me next time your food starts moving, alright?" Moana laughed. "I'll try, but with Heihei, you never know." Heihei let out a single "bawk" and promptly walked off the edge of the boat. Mark's eyes widened. "Uh.." Moana sighed and immediately reached down, pulling him back onto the boat like it was routine. Mark just shook his head. "This is gonna be a long trip."

As they sailed across the open ocean, the gentle breeze guiding them forward, Mark watched as Moana quietly took off the Wayfinder he had given her. His ears perked up as he noticed her carefully placing a glowing green stone the Heart of Te Fiti onto her necklace instead. It fit perfectly, resting just above her chest. Curious, Mark leaned forward slightly. "That stone... it's important, isn't it?"

Moana glanced at him, running her fingers over the heart. "Yeah. It’s what brings life back to the islands. A long time ago, it was stolen, and without it, the ocean started dying. I was chosen to return it." She smiled a little. "Guess the ocean really likes me." Mark chuckled. "Sounds like you're on a journey of your own." Moana nodded. "Always. We're heading to Te Fiti now. It’s not far, just a delivery this time. Should be easy."

But as if fate had a cruel sense of humor, the skies above them darkened. The winds howled suddenly, making the boat lurch. The once-calm ocean turned violent, waves crashing against their canoe. Mark’s instincts screamed danger. "Uh... Moana?!" He gripped the side of the boat as another wave rocked them.

Moana’s hands tightened on the sail. "It’s a storm! Hold on!" The sky cracked with thunder, and rain poured down in sheets. The boat swayed dangerously, lifted by the massive waves. The wind howled, making it nearly impossible to see. Mark tried to steady himself, summoning his Keyblade for balance, but the storm was relentless. A massive wave loomed ahead.

"Moana, look out!" Before she could react, the wave slammed into them. The boat shattered. Mark was thrown into the air, spinning wildly before crashing into the freezing water below. The impact knocked the air from his lungs. He struggled against the currents, kicking desperately to the surface.

Through the chaos, he caught sight of Moana. She was unconscious, floating lifelessly among the wreckage. His heart pounded. "Moana!" Fighting against the waves, he swam toward her as fast as he could, reaching out and grabbing her before another wave could pull her away. With his free arm, he summoned his Keyblade, pointing it toward the ocean. "Aeroga!"

A burst of wind surrounded them, slowing the relentless waves. It wasn’t enough to stop the storm, but it gave him just enough time to search for land. Through the rain and darkness, he saw a small island in the distance. Mark held onto Moana tightly. With a deep breath, he focused, the teeth of his Keyblade turned to a bright orange as it formed a small chain, Mark aimed forward towards the shore and the chain extended, it quickly pulled them forward.

They landed on the shore. Mark collapsed onto the sand, gasping for air. Moana was beside him, still unconscious. He quickly crawled over to her, shaking her shoulder. "Moana! Wake up!" No response. His ears flattened, worry creeping in. He placed a hand on her forehead, summoning Cura. A soft green glow washed over her, and after a few moments

She coughed, sucking in a deep breath. Mark exhaled in relief. "Thank the stars…" Moana groaned, sitting up slowly. "What… happened?" Mark sat back against the sand, exhausted. "We crashed. The storm tore the boat apart… I barely got us here." Moana’s expression fell as she took in their surroundings. They were stranded. The boat was gone.

As Mark and Moana took in their surroundings, their eyes landed on something unexpected: several unfinished boats resting along the shoreline. Some were half-built, others missing sails, but they were clearly left behind by someone. Before they could investigate further, a deep, confident voice called out behind them. “Well, well, well… what do we have here?”

Mark spun around, Keyblade materializing in his grip as he instinctively stepped in front of Moana. A tall, muscular figure stood on a nearby rock, arms crossed over his chest. His skin was covered in moving tribal tattoos, shifting like they had a life of their own. His wild, curly black hair framed a smug grin as he looked at them both. Around his neck hung a giant fish hook, glowing faintly with power.

“Let me guess," he continued, hopping down. "You two washed up here, shipwrecked, completely lost and now you need help from the one and only…" He spread his arms dramatically, puffing out his chest. "Maui!” Moana's eyes widened. "You're you're real!" Mark, however, didn't lower his guard. He narrowed his eyes. "You're the demi-god Maui?" "The one and only!" Maui grinned, flashing his pearly whites. "Shapeshifter, demi-god of the wind and sea, hero to all! You're welcome."

Mark didn’t like his tone. Something about this guy screamed trouble. Moana, though, was thrilled. "This is perfect! Maui, I need your help to return the Heart of Te Fiti!" She pulled out the glowing green stone from her necklace, holding it up to him. The moment Maui saw it, his grin vanished.

He backed away, fast. "Nope! Nope, nope, NOPE." He waved his hands frantically. "You can keep that cursed little rock away from me. I want nothing to do with it." Moana blinked. "Wait, what? You stole it in the first place!" "And look what happened to me!" Maui gestured to himself. "I lost my hook, got stuck on an island for a thousand years, and every monster in the ocean is after that thing! So, thanks, but no thanks." Mark furrowed his brows. "You think the Heart is a trap?"

"Not think, know." Maui jabbed a finger at the stone. "Every nasty sea creature, darkness-loving monster, and god-knows-what is dying to get their hands on that thing. And I don’t plan on being a walking target for them!" Mark and Moana exchanged glances. Before either could argue, Maui suddenly snatched up a nearby sailboat. "Anyway, nice meeting you two but I’ll be taking this!"

He effortlessly lifted the boat, fixing it up in seconds using nothing but brute strength and skill. Moana gasped. "Hey! That's ours!" "Not anymore!" Maui laughed, casually grabbing Heihei and holding him up. "And you look delicious." Heihei blinked. "Bawk?" Moana panicked. "No, no, no, don't eat Heihei!" Mark rolled his eyes. "Seriously? You're a demi-god and you’re stealing our boat?"

"Yep!" Maui said cheerfully, setting the chicken down. "Nothing personal, kid. Just need a quick ride." With that, he pushed Moana into a cave, rolling a boulder over the entrance before she could react. Mark jumped forward to stop him, but Maui suddenly turned into a hawk, flying onto the boat and sailing away. Mark stared in disbelief. Moana pounded on the rock from inside the cave. "Let me out Maui!"

Mark took a deep breath, summoning his Keyblade as he focused on the massive boulder blocking Moana’s exit. With a flick of his wrist, he called upon Gravira. A dark purple sphere of energy materialized above the boulder, pressing down with immense force. The ground trembled as the rock sank into itself, before suddenly launching upward just enough for Mark to send it rolling away with a kick.

Moana stumbled out, gasping. "How did you do that?" "Magic," Mark said simply, offering his hand to pull her up. "Now, let's go get our boat back." As soon as they reached the shore, the ocean itself helped them, sending a wave that flung them both onto the stolen sailboat. Maui turned around mid-sailing, utterly baffled. "Okay, how are you two still here?" Moana steadied herself, pulling the Heart of Te Fiti from her necklace. "We’re here because we need your help, Maui. This needs to be returned." Maui groaned. "You’re still on about that?" "Yes!" Moana insisted.

Mark crossed his arms. "What’s your deal? I thought you were supposed to be the great hero who helped humans." Maui grinned smugly. "Oh, I am. Just not for free.” Before the argument could continue, a whistling sound filled the air. Mark’s instincts flared. "Move!" Out of nowhere, a flurry of arrows and spears rained down upon them!

Moana gasped. "What was that ?!" Mark spun around just in time to see dozens of tiny creatures in massive coconut armor surrounding them on war-painted sailboats. Maui groaned. "Great. The Kakamora." "Who?" Mark asked. Moana paled. "Pirates." Before anyone could react, one of the Kakamora lunged forward grabbing Heihei! The chicken squawked in terror, but then Gulp. Everyone froze.

Mark blinked. "Did… did the chicken just eat the Heart of Te Fiti?" Maui looked horrified. "Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me." The Kakamora screamed in rage, shaking their weapons as they began swarming the boat. Moana gasped. "They’re stealing Heihei!" The pirates lifted Heihei above their heads, chanting wildly as they hauled him onto their largest vessel. Mark summoned his Keyblade. "I guess we’re doing this the hard way."

Mark and Moana jumped onto the Kakamora’s ships, dodging arrows and makeshift explosives as they chased after the chicken. Mark smashed through coconut armor with rapid Keyblade strikes, using Blizzaga to freeze platforms and Aeroga to push enemies off the boats.

Meanwhile, Moana swung from ropes, kicking Kakamora off the edges and knocking their weapons into the ocean. Finally, she spotted Heihei sitting dumbly in a cage, still oblivious. "Hang on, buddy!" Moana leapt onto the ship, dodging an axe and grabbing Heihei’s cage. Mark covered her retreat, blocking an attack and hurling the Keyblade like a spinning boomerang to clear the path. "Go, go!" he shouted.

Moana sprinted back onto their sailboat, clutching Heihei. The Kakamora, realizing they were losing, began panicking. That’s when Maui smirked. "Let me show you how it's done!" With expert skill, he maneuvered the sailboat straight through the center of the Kakamora fleet. The Kakamora screamed as their boats crashed into each other, creating a massive pile-up of broken rafts and tangled sails.

By the time the dust settled, Moana, Mark, and Maui were already sailing off completely unharmed. Maui whistled, impressed. "Huh. Not bad, kid." Mark rolled his eyes. "Next time, let’s try to avoid getting chased by coconut pirates." Moana sighed, still catching her breath. She glanced down at Heihei who just sat there, completely clueless. "Great," she muttered. "Now we just need to get the Heart back from the chicken."

As their sailboat glided across the ocean, Maui leaned back against the mast, arms crossed. "Alright, we survived the coconut pirates, but we’ve got a bigger problem." Mark, sitting on the edge of the boat, glanced over. "What now?" "My hook," Maui said, pointing to his empty hand. "You know, the thing that lets me actually shape-shift and do awesome demigod stuff?" Moana furrowed her brows. "Where is it?"

Maui groaned. "Last time I had it, some giant crab stole it from me and took it to the Realm of Monsters." Mark raised an eyebrow. "A crab?" Maui nodded. "Not just any crab. Tamatoa. The biggest, meanest, most obnoxious, treasure-hoarding shellfish you’ll ever meet." Moana crossed her arms. "So how do we get to the Realm of Monsters?" Maui smirked, walking to the edge of the boat. "Follow me."

Then, without warning, he jumped off. Moana gasped. "Maui!" Mark rushed to the side, watching as Maui dived deep into the water, disappearing beneath the waves. A moment later, the ocean parted revealing a massive hidden cave entrance beneath the surface. Maui resurfaced with a grin. "Welcome to the backdoor entrance of Lalotai, the Realm of Monsters." Mark squinted into the depths. "You expect us to swim down there?"

Maui shrugged. "Unless you wanna knock on the front door and hope Tamatoa lets you in." Moana sighed. "Fine. Let’s go." With that, the three of them took a deep breath and dove in. As soon as they swam through the underwater cavern, the ocean spit them out into a completely different world.

They landed with a thud on bioluminescent ground, surrounded by glowing plants, eerie rock formations, and strange, otherworldly creatures crawling in the shadows. Mark looked around. "Okay… this place is officially weird." Maui smirked. "Welcome to Lalotai. Try not to get eaten." Before Mark could ask what that meant, a huge, multi-eyed creature slithered past, growling.

Moana shuddered. "Let’s just find your hook and get out of here." Maui pointed toward a massive, glowing pile of gold and treasure in the distance. "That’s where we need to go." Mark stared at the enormous crab-shaped mountain. "Let me guess… that’s not just a pile of treasure, is it?" Maui smirked. "Nope." Then, from the top of the pile, something massive began to move. A deep, booming voice echoed through the cavern.

"Well, well, well… what do we have here?" The treasure pile shifted, revealing a colossal, villainous coconut crab with a shell covered in gold, jewels, and stolen artifacts. His glowing yellow eyes locked onto them. "Maui… buddy… back to finally admit that I outshined you?" Maui groaned. "Oh great. Here we go." Tamatoa grinned, clicking his claws together. "Prepare to be dazzled."

As Tamatoa loomed over them, Mark instinctively gripped his Keyblade, while Maui clenched his fists. Tamatoa smirked, his glowing bioluminescent shell shimmering in the dark. "Ah, Maui... still trying to be relevant?" He sneered, clicking his massive claw. "You know, I almost forgot how puny you look without your little hook."

Maui growled. "Yeah? Well, let’s see how puny I am when I take it back!" Tamatoa laughed, waving a claw toward the glowing treasure pile behind him. "Oh, you mean this?" Among the gold, Maui’s magical fish hook lay partially buried, pulsing faintly with divine energy. Moana nudged Mark. "We need a distraction." Mark nodded. "I got this."

As Tamatoa taunted Maui, Mark raised his Keyblade. "Thundaga!" bolts of lightning crashed down onto Tamatoa’s back, causing the massive crab to jerk in surprise. "What the?!" Seizing the moment, Moana sprinted forward toward Tamatoa, waving her arms. "Hey, crab cake! Over here!" Tamatoa spun around, narrowing his glowing eyes. "Ohhh, you again. The girl with the magic rock." He grinned, clicking his claws. "I was going to eat you later, but I guess I can make an exception."

Moana gulped. "Not exactly what I was going for..." Mark took advantage of the distraction, summoning Blizzaga to create a slick patch of ice beneath Tamatoa’s legs. The crab skidded, momentarily losing balance. "Hey! Not cool!" Meanwhile, Maui lunged toward the treasure pile, scrambling through the gold. His hands closed around his fish hook. "Yes!" But as soon as he grabbed it Tamatoa slammed his claw down toward him.

Mark reacted fast. "Gravira!" A gravity well formed beneath Tamatoa, slowing his movement just enough for Maui to roll away. With his hook in hand, Maui grinned. "Alright, Now we’re talking!" He spun the hook, attempting to shape-shift only to fail miserably. Nothing happened. "...Oh no." Tamatoa recovered quickly, shaking off Mark’s magic. "Ohhh, did you break your little toy, Maui? Hah! That’s rich! What are you gonna do now cry?*" Moana ran back to Mark. "We have to go!"

Maui gritted his teeth. "Yeah, yeah I’m working on it!" Tamatoa lunged forward with terrifying speed. "I’m not letting you leave alive!" Mark clenched his Keyblade. "Then we’ll just make you." "Firaga!" A massive fireball erupted from Mark’s Keyblade, slamming into Tamatoa’s face. The giant crab shrieked, blinded by the blast. "My beautiful eyes, agh!" "Run!" Moana yelled.

Taking the chance, Mark, Moana, and Maui bolted toward the exit as Tamatoa stumbled, flailing wildly. Just as they reached the ledge, Maui grabbed Moana and Mark, leaping high into the air. They soared upward just as Tamatoa regained his vision. "You’ll never be as shiny as me Maui!" With one final burst of light, the ocean yanked them back to the surface, leaving Tamatoa furious in the depths below.

*================*
[ Mark Learned: Waterga✨ ]
*================*

As the sailboat drifted across the vast ocean, the mood had shifted. Maui sat at the front, arms crossed, a deep frown on his face. He twirled his fish hook in his hands, frustration written all over him. Every time he tried to shapeshift, he barely managed to hold a form before it fizzled out. Mark leaned against the mast, watching quietly. Moana, sitting nearby, glanced between them before letting out a sigh.

“Well… if you can’t shapeshift right now, then maybe you could do something else?” she suggested. Maui scoffed. “Like what? Tap dance?” Before Moana could answer, the ocean suddenly rippled, sending a small dart flying through the air  SMACK. Maui yelped as the dart stabbed him in the derrière. His whole body tensed before he slowly turned toward the water, outraged.

“Did you, ow! Did you just dart me?!” He waved his arms dramatically. “WHAT IS YOUR DEAL?!” Moana tried to stifle her laughter, but Mark didn’t even bother; he just burst out laughing. Maui glared at both of them. “Oh, so this is funny now?!” Mark smirked. “A little.” Moana grinned. “I think the ocean’s trying to tell you something.”

Maui sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. “…Fine. Since I can’t shapeshift, I might as well teach you how to sail properly.” He pointed at Moana. “Because you, Miss Wayfinder, have no idea what you’re doing.” Moana crossed her arms. “Excuse me?” “Excuse me, you literally crashed the boat like, what? Twice?” Moana rolled her eyes but stepped forward as Maui grabbed the sailor's rope. “Alright, listen up,” Maui started, adjusting the sail. “First rule of wayfinding it’s to understand the ocean, the sky, and the stars. You don’t need some fancy map.”

Mark stood off to the side, watching as Maui began teaching Moana how to properly steer the boat, read the wind, and adjust the sail. At first, Moana struggled. But with each adjustment, she started getting the hang of it. As she concentrated, Mark couldn’t help but admire how determined she was. Eventually, the conversation turned toward Maui’s past. Moana glanced at him. “So… why did you steal the heart?”

Maui hesitated, gripping the fish hook. “I… thought I was doing the right thing.” He sighed. “There was this village. A small one. I looked after them.” Mark tilted his head. “Looked after?” Maui nodded. “Yeah. After the gods gave me my powers, I used them to help people. I stole fire, pulled islands from the sea… all that good stuff. And then I heard about the heart.” Moana listened carefully. “So, you took it… for them?”

Maui nodded. “I thought it’d give them everything they needed. More food, more land, a perfect world.” He clenched his fists. “But instead… I doomed them. And myself.” Silence hung in the air. Moana, seeing his guilt, gave him a small smile. “Well… we’re going to fix that.” Maui blinked, looking at her. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Encouraged by her words, Maui stood up straighter, rolling his shoulders. “Well then, I guess I better start getting my mojo back.” He twirled the fish hook and took a deep breath. Then with a bright flash, Maui shifted from First, a shark… then back. “Okay, that was terrible,” Mark commented.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m working on it!” Maui groaned, shaking off the mishap. He tried again this time, his form held. A second later, a majestic hawk flew through the sky. Moana gasped in amazement. “You did it!” Maui swooped back down, landing in the boat with a cocky smirk. “Of course, I did! I’m Maui!” Moana grinned. “Well, Maui, I think we’re finally getting somewhere.” Mark chuckled.

As the boat approached Te Fiti, Mark could feel the tension rising in the air. The island was shrouded in darkness, the once-lush landscape now barren and lifeless. Then  A roar of fury split the air. From the distance, Te Kā rose from the fiery depths, its molten form towering over them. Smoke and embers swirled as it let out an ear-shattering shriek, hurling a massive wave of lava toward the boat.

“Incoming!” Mark shouted, raising his Keyblade. Moana gritted her teeth, steering the boat as Maui leaped into action. “Stay back! I’ve got this!” Maui roared, spinning his fish hook before lunging at Te Kā. The demigod clashed with the fiery titan, using his shapeshifting to avoid her attacks. He turned into a hawk, dodging blasts of lava, then shifted into a whale, crashing down into the sea before re-emerging.

Mark, gripping his Keyblade tightly, began casting Aero spells to deflect the scorching heat while Moana held onto the heart of Te Fiti. “We’re almost there!” Moana cried, pointing toward the island. But Te Kā wasn’t letting them through. With a sweeping strike, she blasted Maui mid-air, sending him spiraling down onto the boat. “Maui!” Moana shouted. Maui groaned, staggering up just in time to see Te Kā raising her massive arms for another attack. “Moana, Mark, turn back!” he ordered, panting. Moana ignored him and pressed forward, trying to get past Te Kā. “No!” Maui bellowed. “We can’t beat her like this!”

Te Kā let out another earth-shaking roar, slamming down an attack that Maui barely managed to block. A loud crack echoed. Mark’s eyes widened as he saw Maui’s fish hook take the hit, the impact sending them flying back across the ocean. They crashed into the waves, tumbling through the sea as the boat barely held together. For a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of the ocean’s waves, crashing and rolling.

Maui sat up, clutching his damaged hook, eyes wide with horror. The once-glowing weapon was now severely cracked, barely holding together. “No... No, no, no!” he muttered, his voice filled with dread. Moana looked at him, then at Te Kā, her heart pounding. “We have to go back,” she insisted. “We can still do this.” Maui’s expression darkened. “No,” he said coldly. “We can’t.” Moana flinched. “But...”

Maui turned to her, frustration and fear boiling over. “You don’t understand, little girl. That was my one chance! If my hook gets destroyed, I’m nothing!” Mark clenched his fists, stepping forward. “Maui, we need you. We can still fix this.” But Maui wasn’t listening. He stared at his broken hook, then at the distant figure of Te Kā, who still stood guarding Te Fiti. “…I’m done,” he muttered. Moana’s eyes widened. “What?”

Maui stood up, his face hard and unreadable. “The ocean chose the wrong person,” he said bluntly. “You’re not who you think you are.” Moana stiffened, those words hitting deeper than any wound. Then, before anyone could stop him He turned into a hawk and flew away. “Maui, wait!” Moana called, reaching out But it was too late. Maui was gone.

Mark gritted his teeth, watching the demigod vanish into the horizon. His grip tightened around his Keyblade, frustration and disappointment boiling inside him. The boat bobbed in the vast, empty ocean. Silence. Moana slumped down, staring at the heart of Te Fiti in her hands. Mark finally turned to her, his voice quiet but firm. “…What now?” Moana said nothing, her gaze fixed on the stone in her palm. The weight of everything crashed down on them. They were stranded.

Moana sat on the battered boat, the weight of failure pressing on her shoulders. She stared at the Heart of Te Fiti in her trembling hands, her eyes filled with doubt. The ocean was silent, gently lapping at the boat’s edge, as if waiting for her decision. Slowly, she lifted the glowing stone and whispered, her voice breaking “Take it.” She held the heart over the water.

“Find someone else,” she said, barely able to contain her sorrow. “Find someone stronger. Someone who can actually do this.” The ocean hesitated. Then a soft, soothing glow lit up the water. A large manta ray glided beneath the waves, shimmering with an ethereal light. The water parted slightly, revealing the spirit of Gramma Tala, her form gentle and warm as she floated before Moana. Moana’s breath hitched. “Gramma?”

Tala’s spirit smiled. “Moana...” Her voice was soft and knowing, like a gentle breeze. “Why are you here, all alone?” Moana’s lip quivered. “I..I tried, Gramma. But I can’t do it. I can’t save them.” Tala tilted her head, watching her granddaughter with kind, wise eyes. “Can’t you?” she asked. “Or do you think you can’t?” Moana’s eyes burned with tears. She shook her head. “Maui left. Mark… Mark doesn’t know what to do. And me? I’m not who the ocean should have chosen.”

Tala floated closer, her gaze steady. “Why do you think that?” Moana swallowed hard. “Because I’m not strong enough.” The old woman’s laugh was light and full of warmth. “Oh, Moana. Do you know who you are?” Moana blinked. “What?” Tala gestured to the ocean, the stars, the island beyond the horizon. “You are more than you believe. Think of everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve learned. Who are you?”

Moana stared into the water, her mind racing. She thought of her family, her people. She thought of Maui, of Mark, of the ocean, of every challenge she had faced. Then she understood. Moana sat up straight, her breath steady. “I am Moana of Motunui,” she whispered. Her voice grew stronger. “I am Moana of Motunui.” Her heart pounded in her chest, not with fear but with certainty. She turned to the ocean.

With a determined look, she clutched the Heart of Te Fiti and dived into the water. Mark, who had been sitting in the boat’s corner, watching the exchange in stunned silence, snapped out of his daze. “Moana?!” he called as she disappeared beneath the waves. For a moment, he considered jumping in after her, but something stopped him.

It was her moment. He gripped his Keyblade, watching as the ocean shimmered with an emerald glow. A small smile tugged at his lips. “She’s got this.” Moana swam down, down, down, deeper into the ocean’s embrace. The water around her glowed with life, guiding her toward the place where she had dropped the heart. Her lungs burned, but she kept pushing forward. And there it was.

The Heart of Te Fiti, resting in the sand below. She reached out, fingers brushing against the smooth, swirling surface. The ocean rippled around her. And in that moment, Moana felt it  Not the weight of failure, but the strength of who she was meant to be. With newfound confidence, she grasped the heart tightly in her palm.

She kicked upward, the ocean guiding her back toward the surface. As she broke through the waves, the wind whipped around her, and the stormy skies above began to clear. Mark watched in awe as Moana emerged from the sea, her expression fierce, determined, and proud. She climbed onto the boat, dripping wet, and met Mark’s gaze. “I know who I am,” she said firmly.

As Moana and Mark sailed back to her island, the once-calm waters reflected the new sense of peace that had settled over the world. The storm clouds were gone, the skies clear, and the verdant island of Te Fiti seemed to hum with life once more. The ocean, no longer tumultuous, gently rocked their boat as they approached the shore, where the villagers gathered to welcome them home. The village, revitalized by Moana’s journey, now stood in harmony with nature and the ocean. The people cheered as Moana stepped onto the shore, her heart light with the weight of all she had accomplished. Her parents, Tui and Sina, rushed to her side, their faces filled with tears of joy. “Moana,” her father said, his voice thick with emotion, “I see now that you were always meant to go beyond the reef. I can’t keep you here anymore, not when the world needs you.”

Moana smiled, her gaze softening as she hugged her father. “Thank you, Dad. I couldn’t have done it without you. Without the village’s history, and the lessons you’ve taught me.” Tui, though still cautious, nodded in understanding. "You are now the leader of this village, Moana, and you will be the chiefess we always needed."

With the village restored, the boats that had been hidden away for so long were finally brought back to the surface. Moana, now stepping into her role as chiefess, placed her seashell stone, a simple but significant relic she had collected when she was younger on the tallest mountain, where the great chiefs before her had done the same.

The winds whispered in the trees, as if acknowledging her legacy, and Moana felt a deep connection to all who had come before her. She was ready to guide her people, to sail beyond the reef, and to teach future generations the art of wayfinding once again. As the villagers prepared for the next voyage, Moana turned to Mark, who stood silently by her side. His time with her island had been brief, but his role had been monumental. He had helped her bring her people back together, and now the two of them had formed an unspoken bond.

Moana smiled softly and reached into her pouch, pulling out a small keychain. It had two yellow chains, two red chains, two blue chains, and at its center, a stone shaped like the Heart of Te Fiti, a symbol of their journey together, and all they had learned along the way. “I know this journey hasn’t been easy for you,” Moana said, offering the keychain to Mark. “But you’ve done so much for me and my people. I want you to have this, as a reminder of what we’ve accomplished.”

Mark’s fingers closed around the keychain, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He had never really been one for sentimental tokens, but there was something about the gesture that touched him deeply. “Thank you, Moana,” Mark said, his voice quiet but sincere. “I’ll always remember this.” Moana nodded, feeling an odd sense of closure. The ocean had brought them together, and now it was time for them to part ways.

*========================*
[Mark obtained: Guardian of The Sea✨ ]
*========================*

Before Mark could speak again, a sudden shift in the air caught his attention. There, in the distance, he noticed something odd: a keyhole slowly materializing in the landscape, as if the island itself was calling to him. Without hesitation, Mark knew what he had to do. “Moana,” he began, his voice laced with determination, “I have to go.” Her face fell, but she understood. Moana hugged him tightly, wishing him a safe journey.

“I know you have to go,” she said, her voice filled with gratitude. “But remember, you’ll always have a place here.” With a final look at the island he had helped to restore, Mark walked toward the keyhole, his Keyblade in hand. He raised it, the blade glowing with power as it sealed the world, the island, and its people into the protection of the ocean’s magic. The moment the seal was set, Mark felt a sudden pull of a force drawing him back. The Realm of Darkness, the space between worlds, reached out for him, and with a final glance at the horizon, Mark was pulled through the void. Back in the village, the people watched in silent respect as the sky darkened just a little, as if acknowledging Mark’s sacrifice. His departure left a lingering sense of something unfinished, but for Moana, the memories of their journey together would remain.

Meanwhile, Maui flew high above them in his hawk form, accompanying the villagers as they prepared to search for new lands, just as he had once done in his own quest for glory. With his new hook in hand, he seemed at peace, though still full of the mischievous spirit that had defined him for so long. Moana smiled as she watched Maui fly into the horizon, her people beside her. The world had changed, and so had she. And just as she had learned from the ocean, Moana knew that this was only the beginning. There would be more islands, more journeys, and always the call of the sea to guide her.

Chapter 6: Depths of Darkness & Metroville Mayhem

As Mark landed in the Realm of Darkness, the cold, endless void surrounding him, he took a deep breath. The journey with Moana had given him a brief moment of peace, but now, reality set in once more. He was alone again. His fingers clenched the Wayfinder that he had made himself in Moana’s world, his gaze fixated on the swirling darkness ahead. Then, without warning, his mind drifted back back to a time when things were different, when his path was still uncertain.

A younger Mark, standing in the training courtyard of the Land of Departure, watched two figures in front of him Terra, sixteen years old, and Aqua, fourteen. Their faces were full of determination, their stances eager as they prepared to spar under his guidance. From a short distance away, Master Eraqus stood with his arms folded, watching them closely, a faint smile on his usually stern face.

“All right, you two,” Mark instructed, crossing his arms. “You’ve been training under Eraqus for a while now, but let’s see how you handle things when you’re thrown off your routine.” Terra smirked, gripping his wooden training sword. “You mean when we fight you?” Aqua, more measured, glanced at Terra before nodding. “We’re ready, Master Mark.”

Mark felt a weird sense of pride hearing that Master Mark. Even though he had only recently earned his title as Keyblade Master, it still felt strange. He wasn’t Eraqus, wasn’t Xehanort, his way of teaching was different. More intuitive, less strict, but he wanted to make sure these two were prepared for what was out there. And yet, as they squared up, he felt that strange feeling creeping in the back of his mind. It wasn't a doubt, exactly, but something uneasy. With a swift motion, Mark summoned his Keyblade, the steel shimmering under the bright sky. “Come at me with everything you’ve got.”

Terra lunged first, his brute strength making up for his lack of refined technique. Mark dodged, stepping aside at the last second, causing Terra to stumble slightly. “Too direct,” Mark said with a grin. “You need to think ahead.” Aqua didn’t wait; she launched a Blizzard spell in his direction, forcing Mark to leap back. Clever. But he wasn’t going to let her off easy.

With a flick of his wrist, he used Aerora, pushing the ice magic aside and sending Aqua skidding backward. Eraqus chuckled from his position. “A good lesson, Aqua. Adaptability is key.” Terra took the opening and charged again, this time faking left before swinging at Mark’s right side. Mark blocked it with ease, but Aqua was already behind him, her Keyblade poised to strike.

Mark barely had time to react before she landed a clean hit on his shoulder, sending him back a few steps. He grinned, shaking his arm. “That’s more like it.” They continued sparring, but as Mark watched Terra and Aqua fight, that uneasy feeling stirred again. It wasn’t that they weren’t strong, they were stronger than they knew but something about their futures… about how things would change…

He wanted to tell them to be careful, to never let the darkness take them, to trust each other even when everything seemed impossible. But he didn’t. Instead, he smiled, nodding in approval as they landed a few more well-placed attacks. “That’s enough for today,” he finally said, lowering his Keyblade. Terra and Aqua, panting, grinned at each other, proud of what they had accomplished.

Eraqus approached, placing a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “You’re doing well, Mark. They’re learning from you.” Mark exhaled, trying to push the weird feeling aside. “I hope so.” Eraqus studied him for a moment before saying, “You carry a heavy burden. But training the next generation gives purpose, doesn’t it?” Mark looked back at Terra and Aqua, who were chatting excitedly about their spar. “…Yeah,” he muttered, half to himself. “It does.”

*===================*
[Mark obtained: Venomancer✨ ]
*===================*
*===================*
[Mark obtained: Counter Bash ✨ ]
*===================*

The memory faded, and Mark found himself back in the Depths of Darkness, gripping his Keyblade tightly. That strange feeling from back then he understood it now. He had always felt like something bad was coming, like Terra and Aqua were on the verge of being tested beyond their limits. And now, after everything, he knew he had been right to worry. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. He had to keep moving forward. "This isn’t over," he muttered under his breath. "I still have work to do." The darkness around him whispered, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to let it consume him.

In the heart of his tower, Master Yen Sid sat in front of his enchanted orb, its swirling blue mist displaying Mark’s journey across the worlds. His old eyes followed the Keyblade Masters movements, seeing the burden he carried, the loneliness that followed him even after each victory. A heavy sigh left the sorcerer’s lips as he stroked his beard. "You continue to walk the most treacherous path, Mark… one where the light is easily lost." Just as he prepared to peer deeper, the doors to his study swung open.

Ventus rushed in, his face troubled. Yen Sid’s fingers twitched slightly, and with a wave of his hand, the glowing orb faded into darkness, hiding the vision of Mark. Ventus, still catching his breath, bowed slightly. "Master Yen Sid… I need guidance." Yen Sid studied the boy for a moment, noticing the way he clenched his fists. "You seem troubled, Ventus. Speak freely." Ventus hesitated before stepping closer. "It’s my heart… I’ve been feeling… something lately. Something dark. I thought I left all of that behind, but… it’s still there. Somewhere deep inside."

Yen Sid’s expression remained neutral, but he listened intently. Ventus lowered his gaze. "I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to be a burden to my friends." As he spoke, his eyes wandered across the desk until they landed on a familiar object. A Wayfinder sat on the wooden surface, but it wasn’t his, Aqua’s, or Terra’s.

It was Mark’s. Ventus reached out, gently picking it up. He turned it over in his hands, noting the worn edges, the carefully tied chains, and the strange stone at the center. “…Mark’s Wayfinder?" he asked, glancing up at Yen Sid. The sorcerer nodded. "Indeed."  Ventus tightened his grip on Mark’s Wayfinder, his eyes flickering with worry. "Master Yen Sid… where is Mark now?" Yen Sid remained composed, his hands resting on his desk. "He is on a journey." "But where?" Ventus pressed. "If he's in trouble, I want to help him!" The old sorcerer sighed, seeing the genuine concern in Ventus’s expression. "There are some paths, Ventus, that one must walk alone. Mark has chosen such a path."

Ventus frowned. "But why? Why does he have to do everything alone?" Yen Sid gazed at the young Keyblade wielder for a moment before answering. "Because this is the burden he has taken upon himself… and only he can see it through." Ventus clenched his jaw. "That’s not fair." Yen Sid offered a small, knowing nod. "Perhaps not. But Mark is not without hope."

Ventus looked down at the Wayfinder in his hand again, feeling its weight. He exhaled, trying to calm himself. "Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?" Yen Sid gave him a reassuring look. "For now, there is no need to worry. Mark is strong, and he will find his way." Ventus hesitated before nodding, albeit reluctantly. "Alright… if you say so." He carefully placed Mark’s Wayfinder back on the desk and took a step back. "If anything happens, I want to help. Just… let me know." Yen Sid gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. With that, Ventus turned and left the study, still deep in thought as the doors shut behind him.

As soon as Ventus was gone, Yen Sid waved his hand, reigniting the glow of his mystical orb. The swirling mist inside slowly cleared, revealing Mark once more. The Keyblade Master wandered through the endless void of the Realm of Darkness, his Wayfinder still in his grip. His movements were slow but steady, his sharp gaze scanning the abyss around him. "What will you do now, Mark?" Yen Sid mused to himself, watching intently. The answer was uncertain. But Mark would not stop moving forward.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pull was relentless. Mark barely had time to catch his breath as the Realm of Darkness shattered around him, the spectral chain dragging him through a vortex of flickering lights and blurred images. Then impact. Mark hit solid ground hard, rolling as he absorbed the force of his landing. His ears rang, his body still humming with residual energy. He pushed himself up, his Keyblade clutched tightly in his hand.

Mark's eyes widened as he took in the scene. Metroville. A world of superheroes, and it was already in chaos. The massive black and silver robot stomped through the city streets, its red eyes scanning for targets. Cars were overturned, buildings were wrecked, and explosions rang out in the distance. A blur of red and black zipped past him Dash Parr, the speedster of the family, leaving behind a trail of dust as he ran circles around the mechanical menace.

“Come on, slowpoke! Can’t catch me!” Dash taunted, dodging a massive metal fist that crashed into the pavement behind him. From above, a force field materialized, blocking falling debris from crushing innocent civilians. Violet Parr hovered nearby, her hands glowing as she expanded the barrier, shielding a group of people trying to escape. “Get to safety!” she shouted before turning to Mark, finally noticing him. Her brow furrowed. Who’s this guy?

Before she could say anything, a motorcycle roared through the streets, weaving between wreckage. The rider, a woman in a red and black suit with a domino mask, leapt off mid-air, her body stretching impossibly far to grab onto a lamppost. Elastigirl. With a powerful swing, she launched herself toward the robot, wrapping her elastic arms around its torso in an attempt to hold it still. “I could use some backup here!” she called out.

A loud BOOM followed as a massive figure in a red suit slammed into the robot’s leg, causing it to stumble. Mr. Incredible. Mark’s grip on his Keyblade tightened. He had landed in the middle of a full-scale battle and it looked like The Incredibles were already giving it their all. But that robot? It wasn't Heartless. "Then what is it?" Mark didn’t have time to think. The battle was far from over.

As Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl struggled to keep the giant robot in place, its metallic limbs flailing wildly, trying to break free from their hold. Violet expanded another force field around the robot's legs, but it was clear the force field wasn't enough to hold it for long. The robot was just too powerful. Dash dashed in and out of the robot’s reach, trying to slow it down with his super speed, but it was clear the robot wasn’t going to stop until it was finished with the city.

Mark, standing on the edge of the chaos, watched as the heroes fought valiantly but struggled to keep the situation under control. His hands instinctively tightened around the hilt of his Keyblade. Without a moment's hesitation, he pressed his hand to his chest. The green gem on his chest glowed, and with a subtle metallic hum, a helmet materialized over his face. The helmet shimmered with ethereal energy, covering him from chin to crown, leaving only his eyes visible beneath the visor. The air around him thickened with an unsettling energy. “This ends now.”

Mark leapt into action, jumping high into the air with impressive speed. His boots barely made a sound as he landed between the robot and the Incredibles. With a quick motion, he slammed his Keyblade into the ground, and the air around him crackled. Green chains burst from the ground, wrapping around the robot’s limbs and torso. The chains twisted and tightened, as if alive, forcing the robot to freeze in place. A low, almost unnatural rumble emanated from the machine as it struggled against the chains, but it couldn’t break free.

Mark didn’t need to use any magic for this; the chains were pure, raw power, forged by the energy within him. The green chains pulled tighter, and the robot’s movements slowed. The sheer weight of the chains left the robot in a state of temporary paralysis. “That should hold it for now,” Mark muttered, looking at the Incredibles. “You might want to finish it off.” Mr. Incredible grinned, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Mark. “Nice work. Let’s finish this.”

Elastigirl stretched out her limbs to wrap them around the robot's joints, while Violet formed another force field around its head. Dash zipped in and began delivering rapid blows, finally catching up to the weak spots in the robot's legs. “Time to take you down!” Mr. Incredible roared, delivering a mighty punch to the robot’s exposed core.

With a final, resounding crash, the robot crumbled, sparks flying as it collapsed to the ground. The fight was over. The city was safe thanks to Mark and the Incredibles working together. Breathing heavily, Mark stepped back, pulling his chains back into his Keyblade, watching the heroes regroup. Violet, her force field fading, walked up to him, her eyes curious. “You’re not from around here, are you?” Mark gave her a small, cryptic smile. “Not exactly.”

Before anyone could press further, Elastigirl approached, her face serious. “You’ve got some serious skills, kid. Who are you?” Mark just nodded, his helmet retracting as he lowered his Keyblade. “Just someone who’s trying to keep the balance of the worlds.” The Incredibles exchanged looks but said nothing more. They had more important things to worry about for now, Mark was their ally.

As the Incredibles caught their breath and looked around the wreckage of the robot, a sudden chill swept through the air. The ground beneath them seemed to tremble, and a low, eerie sound filled the air. From the shadows of the broken buildings and debris, dark, shifting forms began to emerge Heartless. Their glowing yellow eyes pierced the dim light, their eerie growls echoing through the streets as they began to close in on the heroes.

Mr. Incredible immediately stepped forward, ready for a fight. “We’ve fought robots, we can handle this.” Elastigirl stretched out her limbs, ready to use her elasticity to defend the group. “Stay close, kids!” Violet and Dash fell into defensive positions, but despite their readiness, there was something unsettling about these dark, shadowy creatures. As they got closer, it became apparent that the Heartless were not your average foe.

The Heartless charged, and the Incredibles fought back. Mr. Incredible hurled the nearest Heartless aside with his super strength, but as it collided with a building, it melted into the shadows and reformed into more of the dark creatures.

Elastigirl stretched her limbs to block one of the Heartless’ attacks, but her arm passed right through it as if it were made of smoke. The Heartless reformed, attacking from multiple angles. Violet’s force fields flickered, but the Heartless kept pushing forward, each strike causing the shields to crack. Dash zipped around, his super speed allowing him to dodge and evade the Heartless, but no matter how fast he moved, the creatures kept multiplying, relentless and endless.

“We can’t stop them!” Violet gasped, frustration growing in her voice as she tried to hold the creatures back. Mark, watching the struggle from the sidelines, narrowed his eyes. The Heartless were overwhelming the Incredibles, their dark forms merging into an endless wave. It was clear that conventional attacks wouldn’t work. Stepping forward, Mark pressed his hand to his chest again, his Keyblade appearing in his grip with a steady, confident glow. The Incredibles stopped momentarily, watching as the Keyblade wielder took a stance. “Let me handle this.” Mark’s voice was calm, but his tone carried authority.

He swung his Keyblade downward, and with a sharp, cracking sound, a dark green energy shot out from the blade, surrounding the Heartless. The dark chains Mark had summoned earlier materialized once again, weaving in and out, lashing out like serpents. With a single swipe, the chains wrapped around the Heartless, holding them still as they struggled in place.

Then, Mark raised his Keyblade high, calling upon a power only the Keyblade could unleash. The air around them pulsed as the chains constricted tighter, and the Heartless began to scream in agony. With a wave of his hand, Mark thrust his Keyblade forward, sending a wave of concentrated energy surging through the chains. The Heartless disintegrated into dark smoke, vanishing from the world entirely.

Mark’s Keyblade pulsed once more, and as the darkness faded, the Heartless that had surrounded the Incredibles were completely gone. The Incredibles stood frozen, wide-eyed, as Mark lowered his Keyblade. The darkness was gone. Mr. Incredible, still processing what he had just witnessed, stepped forward cautiously. “What… what just happened?”

Mark lowered his Keyblade, his helmet retracting. “The Heartless are creatures born of darkness. Only the Keyblade can defeat them. Anything else just fuels the darkness.” Elastigirl gave him a hard look. “So, these things are everywhere?” Mark shook his head, his expression serious. “No. But they’re drawn to worlds that are unbalanced. They latch onto places with turmoil, where the light is weak.” Violet took a step closer, eyes full of curiosity. “But how did you…? What’s that weapon?”

Mark glanced at his Keyblade, his hand resting lightly on the hilt. “This? It’s a Keyblade. It’s the only thing that can stop the darkness from spreading. I’m not from around here, but I’ve seen what happens when the darkness takes over.” Dash, still wide-eyed from the display, piped up, “That was awesome! You just wiped them all out in one move!”

Mark gave him a small smile. “It wasn’t just me. The Keyblade is meant to protect the light and keep the balance. If we don’t stop the Heartless, they’ll keep coming back.” Mr. Incredible folded his arms, a sense of respect in his voice. “We’ve had our share of battles, but that’s something else. Glad you’re on our side, kid.” Mark gave a small, acknowledging nod. “I’m just trying to make sure the light doesn’t go out.”

The Incredibles exchanged looks, still processing the encounter. The Heartless were not something they had ever faced, but with Mark’s help, they knew they had a powerful ally by their side. There was still more to do, but for now, they had a brief moment of peace. “I guess we’re in this together, huh?” Elastigirl said with a half-smile, the tension in her shoulders easing. Mark nodded, his expression calm but firm.

As the last traces of the Heartless vanished into the ether, the streets of Metroville fell eerily silent. The Incredibles stood together, their eyes scanning the quiet aftermath of the battle. The towering buildings, now bathed in the fading light of the evening, seemed untouched, though the weight of what had just transpired lingered in the air. Mr. Incredible let out a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort of the fight. “Well, that’s done for the day.” He gave Mark a nod of gratitude. “Thanks again. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.”

Elastigirl stretched out her arms, her smile softening as she looked around. “I think it’s time we all call it a night. We’ve had enough excitement for one evening.” She turned to the others. “Let’s head home.” Violet and Dash, though still wide-eyed from the battle, followed their parents. “Yeah, I think I could use some time to process all this,” Violet said, her voice a little shaky.

Dash, never one to let a moment go to waste, grinned at Mark. “That was awesome! I wish I could’ve kept up with you!” Mark chuckled, his hand resting on his Keyblade as the last of the Heartless dissolved into the shadows. He glanced down the empty street, his thoughts wandering. The world was vast, and he didn’t know where his next step would lead. “I’m glad I could help.” His tone carried a slight uncertainty. “But I’m not sure where I’ll go from here.”

He took one last look at the Incredibles, who were now starting to walk away, back to their home. He was alone again, standing in the quiet aftermath of the battle, the setting sun casting long shadows across the city streets. For a moment, Mark stood there, unsure of his next move. He had no clear destination, no home to return to. There was still so much to discover, so much to do, but where to go next? He looked down at his Keyblade, the weight of his purpose pressing down on him. “I’ve got time,” he muttered to himself, letting out a deep breath. “I’ll figure it out.”

*===============*
[ Mark Learned: Earthga✨ ]
*===============*

As the city continued to settle into the quiet of the evening, Mark took a few steps down the empty street, his footsteps echoing through the stillness. There were many places to go, worlds to explore, but for now, the uncertainty of it all felt strangely freeing. In the distance, the Incredibles disappeared into the horizon, and Mark remained standing there for a moment longer, lost in thought. For now, he had no answers. But for the first time in a long while, that felt okay. The night began to settle in, and Mark found himself heading off in the opposite direction

The cool night air brushed against Mark's face as he found himself climbing up the side of a building. His fingers gripped the edges of the rooftop, pulling himself up with practiced ease until he stood on the highest point of the city.

He took a deep breath, feeling the vastness of the city stretch out before him endless streets, towering buildings, and blinking lights. Everything below seemed so far away, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Mark’s gaze shifted down to his hand, where the Wayfinder he had crafted in Moana’s world rested. His fingers curled around the pendant, the familiar weight of it grounding him, yet in his heart, a storm was brewing.

Mark found himself adrift in a sea of uncertainty. “What now?” he muttered, his voice barely more than a whisper against the night. The question had been plaguing him for days now ever since his journey had shifted into a new direction. What was the purpose of his endless wandering? Was he meant to protect the worlds, to seal them from darkness? Or was there something more? Something… he hadn’t yet discovered about himself? He stared at the Wayfinder, the stone shimmering faintly in the dim light. It was a gift he had made for himself, but now, it felt like a connection to a part of himself he wasn’t sure he understood.

“I made this for Mickey,” Mark said, his voice barely a whisper. “But… I don’t know. What if I’m just fooling myself? What if I’m not meant to do this… Why didn't I just let myself give into the darkness, I am really that worthy of still standing where I am?” He clenched his fist around the pendant, the weight of the uncertainty sinking deeper into his chest. The night felt suffocating in that moment, empty, like a void opening beneath him. His Keyblade rested at his side, a constant reminder of the power he wielded, the responsibilities he carried. But was it enough? Could he keep going? Did he even know who he was anymore?

Mark closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts. “I’ve come so far. I’ve fought in so many worlds. But what if it’s all for nothing? What if I can’t fix the things I’ve broken?” The words echoed in his mind. He had always fought for something whether it was for Moana, for the Incredibles, or even for himself. But now, in this moment of stillness, he wasn’t so sure anymore. He wasn’t so sure about anything.

The wind howled around him, rustling his hair as if trying to shake him from his spiral of doubt. Mark opened his eyes, staring out at the city skyline once again. The world seemed so big, so complicated. And here he was alone. “Maybe... I don’t need to have all the answers right now,” he thought. But even as he said it to himself, it didn’t feel entirely convincing.

He stood there for a few more moments, his grip on the Wayfinder tightening again, as if searching for something to hold onto. He still wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but at least, for now, he could stand here and take a breath. Just for a moment, he'd let himself question everything. And maybe, just maybe, he'd find his way forward when the time came.

Mark’s fingers slowly released the Wayfinder, sliding the pendant back into the safety of his pocket as he took one final glance at the city below. A wave of uncertainty still clung to him, but before he could dive deeper into his thoughts, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. A low, unsettling sound filled the air with a low, shifting rumble like the atmosphere itself was warping. Mark’s instincts kicked in. His eyes snapped to the surroundings, narrowing as his hand instinctively reached for the hilt of his Keyblade.

The shadows around him seemed to grow darker, swirling unnaturally, and then, like a sudden burst of smoke, Heartless began to materialize from thin air. The familiar twisted forms of darkness lurched forward, hungrily sensing the light that still clung to Mark. Without hesitation, Mark drew his Keyblade, its blade gleaming in the moonlight as he took a defensive stance. “So, they’re back…” he muttered under his breath, his grip firm on the weapon as the Heartless began to close in on him.

With swift, precise movements, Mark unleashed a flurry of strikes, his Keyblade flashing like lightning. His powerful blows sent the Heartless scattering into the darkness, vanquishing them one after another. The dark creatures dissolved into nothingness, their wails of despair fading into the night air. Once the last of the Heartless had been dealt with, Mark stood still, chest heaving with exertion, his gaze scanning the now-empty rooftop. He had expected the silence, but there was something off.

Then he felt something watching him from the shadows. His heart skipped a beat as he turned, his Keyblade raised in an instant, ready to strike again. There, standing at the edge of the rooftop, cloaked in a deep, shadowy hood, was a figure. A man, or perhaps something more Mark couldn’t tell, but something about him made his skin crawl. The presence was both familiar and alien. Young Xehanort.

Mark’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on his Keyblade. “You...” he started, his voice cold and steady. “What are you doing here?” The cloaked figure tilted his head slightly, his presence growing more suffocating in the stillness. He stepped forward, his movements fluid and deliberate, his hands hidden within the folds of his cloak. “I could ask you the same thing, Mark,” the voice of Young Xehanort echoed through the air, cool and calculating. The young version of him looked like the stormy embodiment of a puzzle Mark had yet to solve.

Mark’s eyes flared with recognition. “Xehanort... What do you want with me? Why are you here?” A smirk tugged at the corner of Young Xehanort’s mouth, his yellow eyes gleaming beneath his hood. “I don’t want anything from you, Mark. At least, not yet. But I’m curious about you... and what you’ve become. The darkness always finds a way to spread, no matter how much light you think you’re carrying.” He paused, studying Mark’s tense stance. “I wonder how much of it is in you.”

Mark clenched his teeth, but his mind raced. “I’m not like you,” he growled, his voice fierce. “I won’t fall for your tricks no matter how far I fall.” The cloaked figure chuckled, a sound that echoed in the cold night air. “Tricks? Perhaps. But even the purest hearts can be swayed. Let’s see how far you’re willing to go to keep the light.”

Before Mark could respond, the figure vanished into a gust of wind, leaving the scent of darkness lingering in the air. Mark stood there, breathing heavily, his Keyblade still in hand. He searched the rooftop for any sign of movement, but there was nothing. The night seemed to stretch out before him, empty and silent once again.

“Xehanort...” he muttered under his breath. “What does he want from me?” The presence had left, but the words still hung in the air, filling Mark with an unsettling feeling. Was Xehanort truly targeting him? Or was there something else at play, something darker and more twisted than even he could understand? As the cool night breeze whipped around him, Mark turned his back to the skyline, his heart heavy with unanswered questions. 

*==============*
[Mark obtained: Glide ✨ ]
*==============*

The sun rose over the city, casting a golden glow across the buildings and streets below. The air felt different now, warmer, with the sounds of morning filling the city: the distant hum of traffic, the chatter of people heading off to work, the bustle of life resuming its normal rhythm. Mark, however, hadn’t moved. He remained perched on a rooftop, his feet dangling off the edge as he sat cross-legged, his thoughts a swirling mess of confusion and questions. The events of the previous night replayed in his mind: the Heartless, Young Xehanort, and the strange feeling of being caught in a web of forces far beyond his understanding. But today, the world felt... oddly different.

He wasn’t sure what had driven him to stay up here, away from the crowds and the noise. Maybe it was the desire to keep his distance from everything, or perhaps he simply didn’t know where else to go. Mark glanced down at his armor; his outfit was nothing like the locals'. He didn’t exactly blend in with the busy crowds walking below. The old, worn attire of a traveler, paired with his Keyblade and the Wayfinder still hanging in his pocket, made him feel out of place. He was far from home, and even further from understanding his purpose here.

“I don’t belong here,” he muttered to himself, adjusting his jacket uncomfortably. He could feel the eyes of pedestrians as they passed below, as if they knew he was an outsider, someone who didn’t quite fit. It was an odd feeling being in a place that wasn’t his, where he wasn’t known. The sun’s rays were warm, but it didn’t erase the gnawing feeling inside of him. He didn’t have the right clothes, the right persona, or even the right tools to blend in with this world. He was just... Mark. A man without a home, a purpose, or any direction.

His eyes flicked back to the city’s horizon, the buildings stretching on and on, a vast sea of steel and glass that seemed to mirror the endless expanse of uncertainty in his mind. There was nothing for him here, no clear path, no obvious place where he could begin again. His Keyblade, which was once a symbol of protection and power, now felt heavy, like a constant reminder of the battles ahead. Mark leaned back against the roof, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sun wash over him. He didn’t have a plan. He didn’t know where to go or what to do next.

But for now, he had his wayfinder a piece of something that once had meaning to him and he had to trust that it would guide him. In a world where nothing seemed to make sense, maybe that was all he could rely on for now. With a sigh, Mark stood up, dusting off his clothes and checking the edge of the roof. He had to move on. Maybe there was something or someone he was meant to find, or maybe this was just a part of the journey. Either way, he couldn’t stay on this roof forever. The world was waiting for him, and Mark wasn’t sure what came next, but he was ready to find out.

Mark let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders as he took one last glance at the city below. The streets were busy, filled with people going about their normal lives, oblivious to the struggles of a man who didn’t belong. Staying still wasn’t going to get him anywhere he needed to move, to do something. With a push off the rooftop, Mark leapt forward, his boots landing lightly against the edge of an adjacent building. The impact sent a jolt up his legs, but he barely registered it as he kept going. Another leap, another rooftop. His mind quieted as he focused on the movement, the feeling of the wind rushing past his face, the rhythm of his steps against the concrete.

Parkour wasn’t something he actively thought about; it was instinct, a natural extension of his body. He vaulted over a metal railing, landed in a crouch, and sprang forward again, grabbing onto the edge of a higher building before pulling himself up. His muscles burned slightly, but he welcomed the sensation. He flipped over a rooftop vent, landing smoothly as he continued his momentum. He wasn’t running toward anything in particular, just moving. It was better than sitting still, drowning in questions he didn’t have the answers to.

With a deep inhale, he sprinted toward the next edge, pushing off at the last second and twisting mid-air. The world spun for a brief moment before he landed in a roll, popping back to his feet in one fluid motion. Still not enough. Mark spotted a fire escape and ran toward it, using the wall as a springboard to grab onto the metal bars. He climbed swiftly, his movements precise and controlled, until he reached the very top of a towering building.

From up here, he could see everything. The sprawling city stretched out before him, endless and unfamiliar. It should have made him feel small, lost but instead, for the first time since arriving, he felt free. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he gazed at the horizon. His heart pounded from the exertion, but it felt good. It reminded him that he was still here, still moving, still fighting. Even if he didn’t know what came next. Mark took another deep breath, steadying himself as he prepared for the descent. Going down was always trickier than going up, but he welcomed the challenge.

He crouched at the edge of the rooftop, eyes scanning the layout below. Fire escapes, ledges, pipes plenty of opportunities to keep his momentum going. With a sharp inhale, he pushed off, dropping down to a lower ledge and rolling with the impact. From there, he gripped a nearby pipe and slid down, kicking off the wall to propel himself onto another rooftop. His movements were fluid, instinct guiding him as he hopped across gaps, vaulted over railings, and used every surface available to control his speed.

A metal beam stuck out from the side of the building, and he grabbed it mid-jump, swinging himself forward before landing on a fire escape. Without missing a beat, he ran down the railing, balancing on it for a brief moment before leaping off onto the next rooftop. He was picking up speed now. His pulse pounded in his ears as he took another daring leap, flipping mid-air before grabbing onto a streetlight. He swung around it, using the momentum to propel himself onto the awning of a nearby building, rolling to break his fall. Finally, he landed on the pavement in a crouch, exhaling as he straightened up. Unbeknownst to him, someone had been watching the entire time.

Inside a large office building, behind a massive window, Bob Parr also known as Mr. Incredible stood at his desk, his jaw slightly slack as he watched Mark’s acrobatics unfold.His eyebrows lifted in surprise. That wasn’t just some regular parkour enthusiast; this guy moved with skill, precision, and confidence, almost like he’d been doing it for years. Bob leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as Mark casually dusted himself off and glanced around. "Is that the kid that helped us yesterday?"

Mark exhaled, glancing around as he prepared to walk off, but before he could take another step, a sharp voice called out. “Hey! You! Stop right there!” Mark turned his head slightly, spotting two uniformed security guards approaching him. They didn’t look particularly aggressive, but they were definitely not letting him leave. “Uh… something wrong?” Mark asked, keeping his voice casual. “You were just jumping around on our building, kid,” one of the guards said, crossing his arms. “You’re coming inside.”

Mark considered making a break for it, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. Besides, he wasn’t looking for trouble. With a sigh, he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Lead the way.” The guards led him through the lobby and into an elevator, where he remained silent as they ascended to one of the upper floors. The moment the elevator doors opened, Mark was practically shoved into a cramped office, where a short, balding man with tiny glasses was already waiting for him.

Gilbert Huph. His eyes were sharp, his expression immediately sour. He didn’t even bother standing from his desk, instead adjusting his tie as he leaned forward. “Who in the world do you think you are?” Huph snapped, glaring at Mark. “I don’t know what kind of stunt you were trying to pull, but THIS is a place of BUSINESS! Not your personal playground!” Mark crossed his arms. “I wasn’t causing any trouble. Just moving around. Didn’t know rooftops were off-limits.”

Huph’s face turned red. “OFF-LIMITS?! You were climbing, jumping, and swinging around like some kind of lunatic! I have clients who could’ve seen you! Do you realize how bad that looks?!” Mark remained calm, unfazed by Huph’s outburst. “So what? It’s not like I broke anything.” Huph slammed his fists on his desk. “That’s not the point! You broke company policy! And do you know what happens to people who break company policy?” He leaned in, his beady eyes narrowing. “They get dealt with.”

Outside the office, Bob Parr stood just out of sight, arms crossed as he listened in. His expression was unreadable, but his grip on his arm tightened slightly as he heard Huph berating Mark. Mark, meanwhile, sighed. “Look, if you want me gone, I’ll leave. No need to make a big deal out of it.” Huph scoffed. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy. You’re going to sit there while I decide whether to call the police for trespassing.” Mark tensed slightly, but kept his face neutral. Bob, still listening, furrowed his brow. That’s a bit much, don’t you think, Huph?

Mark sighed, rubbing his temples as he looked at Huph. "Look, I don't even work here. I don't even live here. I was just passing through." Huph scoffed, adjusting his tie. "Oh, is that supposed to make it better? That just means you’re some random trespasser, not even an employee! You think you can just waltz around my building like some, some street acrobat?!" Mark took a deep breath, trying his best to stay level-headed. "I get that you're mad, but I didn’t do anything to hurt your company. I wasn’t bothering anyone."

Huph rolled his eyes. "Well, you're bothering me, and that's more than enough reason for me to make sure you're out of here permanently." Before Mark could respond, Bob finally stepped in. "Alright, that’s enough." He walked into the office, standing tall and imposing. "Huph, don’t you think you’re overreacting a little? The kid didn’t hurt anything. He’s not a criminal."

Huph turned to Bob, narrowing his eyes. "Parr, stay out of this. This has nothing to do with you!" Bob frowned. "You’re talking about calling the police on someone just because they were on the roof. How does that make sense?" "It makes sense because I say it does!" Huph snapped. "This is my company, and I won’t have some nobody turning it into his own personal playground!" Mark sighed. "Look, I can just-" Before he could finish, something outside the window caught his attention.

An old woman was walking down the sidewalk… and two men in masks were running up behind her. Mark's eyes sharpened. A robbery. Bob followed his gaze, seeing the same thing. His fists clenched. Mark didn’t hesitate. He turned and bolted out of the office. Bob made a move to follow, but Huph stepped in front of him. "Oh no you don’t! You take ONE step out of this office, Parr, and you’re fired!"

Bob stopped, his jaw clenching. "You’re really going to stand there and let that happen?!" He gestured toward the window. "There’s a robbery happening right now!" "I don’t care!" Huph yelled. "What I care about is this company! And if you leave, you can consider yourself unemployed!" Bob stared at him, something snapping in his eyes. "Fine." With one massive hand, he grabbed Huph by the collar and, with zero hesitation, threw him through the office wall.

The tiny man screamed as he crashed through desks, cubicles, and partitions, smashing through several walls before finally coming to a stop, groaning in pain. Bob took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, and walked out of the office like nothing happened. Meanwhile, Mark sprinted through the streets, chasing after the two robbers as they weaved through alleys, unaware that something far more intense had just happened behind him.

Mark sprinted through the alley, his sharp eyes locked onto the two robbers as they tried to make their getaway. They were fast, but he was faster. As they turned a corner, Mark skidded to a stop and thrust his Keyblade forward. "Blizzaga!" A burst of ice shot from his Keyblade, coating the ground beneath the robbers' feet. Instantly, they lost their balance, slipping and tumbling to the ground with pained grunts.

Mark strode forward, grabbing the fallen purse from one of their hands. He looked down at them as they groaned in frustration, struggling to get up on the slick ice. "Yeah, you might wanna sit tight. The cops will be here soon," he said, before turning and walking away. He returned to the old lady, who had been watching the whole thing with wide eyes. With a small smile, he handed her the purse. "Here you go, ma'am. Safe and sound."

"Oh, bless you, young man!" she said, gripping the purse tightly. "I don’t know what I would’ve done without you!" Mark gave a small nod. "Just be careful out here, okay?" She smiled warmly. "You're a hero." Mark hesitated at that word but gave a small smile before turning away, heading back to the insurance company. When he arrived, he spotted Bob standing outside holding a box of his stuff.

Mark frowned, walking over. "You, uh… okay?" Bob let out a long sigh, glancing down at the box before giving a small, tired chuckle. "Well… let’s just say I won’t be working here anymore." Mark raised an eyebrow. "Did… Did you quit?" Bob huffed. "Not exactly." Mark tilted his head but then put two and two together. He glanced up at the building. "Oh. Oh." Bob just shrugged. "He had it coming."

Bob looked at Mark for a moment, then sighed. “Do you need a ride anywhere?” Mark scratched the back of his head. “I, uh… don’t really have a place to go.” Bob frowned. “No place at all?” Mark shrugged. “Not really. I kinda just… ended up here.” Bob looked at him for a second, then nodded. “Alright, kid. You’re coming with me.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “Kid? I’m an adult.” Bob smirked. “Yeah? Then act like one and get in the car.”

Mark rolled his eyes but followed Bob to his car. The drive was quiet for the most part, but Mark took in the city as they passed through. Metroville was… different. Nothing like the places he’d been before. When they finally arrived at Bob’s house, Mark got out and looked around. It was a nice place, small but cozy. Bob turned to him. “Listen, Helen and the kids aren’t home yet. We’re gonna pick them up after we grab some food. But someone’s gotta stay here and watch the baby.”

Mark blinked. “...Baby?” Bob opened the front door and gestured inside. “Jack-Jack’s inside. Just keep an eye on him until we get back.” Mark crossed his arms. “You’re just leaving me with your kid?” Bob smirked. “Well, you stopped a robbery today. I figure you can handle a baby.” Mark sighed but walked inside. “Fine. How hard can it be?” Bob patted him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

And with that, Bob left to pick up food and get the kids from school, leaving Mark alone in the house with Jack-Jack. Mark sat down on the couch and looked at the tiny baby in the playpen. Jack-Jack stared back at him with wide eyes, blinking. Mark leaned forward slightly. “So, uh… you don’t do much, huh?” Jack-Jack giggled. Mark nodded. “Right. Easy babysitting job.” Jack-Jack suddenly sneezed and burst into flames. Mark’s ears flattened. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me.”

Mark immediately jumped to his feet, scanning the room. “Fire extinguisher… fire extinguisher…!” He spotted one hanging on the wall near the kitchen, dashed over, yanked it free, and sprayed Jack-Jack with foam. The baby sneezed again, the flames disappearing, leaving behind only a confused, giggling toddler covered in white foam. Mark exhaled in relief. “Okay… crisis averted.” Then he turned around only to see three more Jack-Jacks staring at him.

Mark’s eyes twitched. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” The copies wobbled around the room, giggling and causing minor chaos. One climbed up onto the couch, another started phasing through the coffee table, and the last one floated up to the ceiling. Mark sighed and leaned against the counter, watching in disbelief. “This is not normal baby behavior.”

For a while, he just observed, making sure they didn’t destroy the place. The duplicates eventually merged back into one Jack-Jack, who happily crawled over and sat near Mark. By the time the family returned, Mark had managed to keep things under control. Helen, Violet, and Dash walked into the house, Bob carrying bags of food behind them. “Mark? We’re back!” Bob called.

They entered the kitchen to see Mark standing at the sink, casually washing dishes while Jack-Jack sat near him, staring up with wide eyes. The baby cooed happily, occasionally reaching for the bubbles. Helen raised an eyebrow. “Well… this is a surprise.” Bob chuckled. “See? I knew he could handle it.” Mark, still scrubbing a plate, sighed. “Oh, yeah. Totally handled it.” Jack-Jack suddenly disappeared and then reappeared on Mark’s shoulder. Mark didn’t even flinch. “...Completely normal kid.”

As Mark finished drying the last dish, he turned to find Bob and Helen watching him with knowing expressions. "You know, Mark," Bob said, crossing his arms, "you might not be from around here, but you've got some kind of superhero genes." Helen nodded in agreement. "We've seen a lot of people with powers, but the way you handle yourself? The magic? The chains?" She smirked. "You sure you’re not secretly one of us?" Mark chuckled as he set the dish towel down. “Trust me, if I had a family like yours, I’d probably know by now.” Bob grinned and clapped him on the back. “Well, superhero or not, you’ve earned yourself a meal. Come on, let’s eat.”

The table was filled with food, laughter, and the occasional interruption from Jack-Jack making strange noises. Mark sat between Violet and Dash, still somewhat adjusting to the casual family atmosphere. It had been a long time since he’d sat down for a real meal with people who felt like they belonged together.

"So, Mark," Dash spoke up, shoveling a bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth, "where are you from anyway?" Mark paused for a moment, twirling his fork in his fingers. "That’s… complicated." Violet raised an eyebrow. "How complicated?" Mark hesitated. He could say anything but he doubted "I travel between worlds using a giant key to fight creatures born of darkness" would go over well. Instead, he settled for:

"Well I'm from an island. Not too different from this place, just... a little more old-fashioned." Helen tilted her head. "And you don’t have anywhere to go now?" Mark shook his head. "Not really. I’m just… passing through." Bob, cutting into his steak, looked at him curiously. “You didn’t come here on purpose, did you?” Mark smirked slightly. “Nope. I kind of got yanked here.” Violet gave him a suspicious glance. “That’s… not ominous at all.”

Helen, ever the mother, noticed the way Mark seemed to avoid talking too much about himself. Instead of pressing, she shifted the topic. “Well, you helped out today, and that means a lot. If you need a place to rest for a while, you’re welcome to stay.” Mark glanced at her, surprised. “Really?” Bob nodded. “Yeah. We’re used to handling strays.” He nudged Dash, who snickered. “And it’s not like you don’t fit in.” Mark couldn’t help but smile a little. "Thanks."

Dash leaned forward, excited. “Wait, so can you do superhero stuff, or is it just magic?” Mark chuckled. "I guess I can sorta do both..” "Can you fly?" Dash interrupted. "Not exactly." "Super speed?" "No." "Super strength?" Mark smirked. "I can punch pretty hard." Dash grinned. "Okay, that’s cool."

Violet gave Mark a more thoughtful look. “What can you do, exactly?” Mark leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "A little bit of everything, I guess, I can use elemental magic like, Fire, Water, Thunder.. I can use Healing and Gravity elements, I can do alot with my Keyblade, but if I didn’t have it I can do intense parkour." Dash's eyes sparkled. "So you're like a superhero!" Mark chuckled but didn’t respond. The idea was… strange. He’d never considered himself a hero, just someone who kept moving forward.

After dinner, the Parr family cleaned up the table, with Mark helping where he could. Jack-Jack had already dozed off in Helen’s arms, and Dash was yawning between sentences. “Alright, kids, bedtime,” Helen announced. “Aww, come on, Mom,” Dash whined, rubbing his eyes. “It’s way too early.” Bob chuckled. “Then why are you practically asleep in your chair?”

Dash pouted but didn’t argue as he and Violet headed off to their rooms. Helen carried Jack-Jack upstairs, and Bob stretched his arms with a tired groan. “Long day, huh?” Mark nodded, standing near the couch. “Yeah.” “You can crash here for the night,” Bob said, patting the back of the couch. “Not the softest bed, but it beats wherever you had to sleep last night I'm sure.” Mark gave a small smirk. “Yeah, I’ll take it.”

Helen came back downstairs after tucking in Jack-Jack and placed a pillow and a blanket on the couch. “It’s not much, but it should do for now,” she said with a kind smile. Mark took the blanket. “Thanks.” Helen and Bob bid him goodnight before heading to their room, leaving Mark alone in the dimly lit living room. He let out a slow breath and sat down, leaning back against the couch.

As the house settled into silence, Mark pulled out the Wayfinder, holding it between his fingers. The small, handcrafted charm shimmered faintly in the soft glow of the nearby lamp. "What am I even doing?" he thought. "I keep jumping from world to world, but for what? What am I looking for?" His mind replayed everything that had happened, the battles, the people he had met, the places he had been. And yet, no matter where he went, he still felt… lost. "Do I even have a place to go back to?"

Mark sighed, running a hand down his face before looking back at the Wayfinder. He remembered Moana’s words, how she had found her own path even when she doubted herself. "Who am I supposed to be?" His thoughts swirled in circles, but exhaustion finally weighed him down. He laid down on the couch, gripping the Wayfinder tightly in his hand as his eyes grew heavy. The questions remained unanswered, but for now, sleep finally took him.

 

The next morning, Mark woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. Sitting up on the couch, he rubbed his eyes, feeling slightly disoriented before remembering where he was. He could hear the sound of Jack-Jack giggling in his high chair, Dash complaining about something, and Bob talking to Helen.

Stretching, Mark stood up and walked into the kitchen. Helen was flipping pancakes while Dash and Violet sat at the table eating. Bob was reading through a sleek, official-looking message on the counter. Mark grabbed a glass of water and leaned against the counter, watching as Bob seemed particularly focused on the letter. “Something important?” he asked. Bob looked up, surprised for a second before nodding. “Yeah, just… an opportunity,” he said vaguely, setting the letter down.

Helen glanced over at him. “An opportunity?” Bob hesitated before smiling at her. “Yeah, a business trip consulting work, you know.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing too exciting, but it’s got a huge payout.” Helen raised an eyebrow. “Business trip? You just got fired.” Bob winced slightly. “Technically, yes. But this is different.” He glanced at Mark, then back at Helen. “It’s… private. They found me. It’s kind of a freelance thing.”

Helen didn’t look entirely convinced. “Mmm-hmm.” Before she could press further, Dash spoke up between bites of his breakfast. “So, does that mean we can have pizza for dinner?” Helen sighed. “No, it does not mean that.” Bob chuckled and stood up, patting Mark on the shoulder as he walked past him. “I’ll be gone for a little while. You’ll be okay holding down the fort?” Mark blinked. “Uh, sure.”

Bob gave him a nod before heading upstairs to pack. Mark glanced at the message Bob had been reading but decided not to pry. Helen, however, wasn’t done being suspicious. She watched Bob leave before looking at Mark. “Does this seem weird to you?” Mark shrugged. “I don’t really know how ‘business’ works in this world.” Helen hummed thoughtfully but didn’t push it further. Mark had a strange feeling about this, though. Something about the way Bob was acting excited, almost like he needed this.

Later that day, Bob left, telling the family he’d be back soon. Mark watched as he got into a cab and drove off, his gut telling him that whatever Bob was getting into… it wasn’t just business. Mark couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. After Bob had left, Mark took it upon himself to do a little investigating. He remembered seeing that sleek message Bob had gotten earlier. It was addressed to Mr. Incredible, and the mention of an “incredible reward” stuck with him.

As the family went about their day, Mark quietly rummaged through the papers on the counter and found the message. It was an invitation from a mysterious woman named Mirage, requesting Mr. Incredible’s help on a distant island to stop a rogue robot. The reward offered was incredibly high, but something about the whole thing felt off to Mark.

He knew Bob wasn’t entirely transparent, especially with how suddenly excited he’d been about the opportunity. Mark had seen the signs of someone hiding something, and it triggered his instincts.

The message didn’t offer much more than that, but there was a location: Nomanisan Island. Mark frowned as he read the name over and over, running his finger across the text. The place was remote, cut off from the rest of the world. He couldn’t understand why Bob hadn’t said anything about it to his family.

Something told him he had to check it out. Mark didn’t have much of a plan, but if he was going to help, he couldn’t just sit around. He slipped out the front door, feeling the warmth of the morning sun on his skin as he paced down the street. A plan began to form. He pulled out his Keyblade, and with a quick motion, he summoned his Keyblade Glider. The glider shimmered into existence, its sleek form a perfect reflection of his inner resolve. He climbed onto it and kicked off the ground, the wind whipping through his hair as he soared above the rooftops.

Nomanisan Island wasn’t far, and with the power of the glider, he’d reach it in no time. The Keyblade hummed in his hands as the world around him became a blur. He navigated through the skies with ease, the glider cutting through the clouds as he headed toward the distant island. As he neared the island, Mark could see it clearly from above a jagged, rugged landscape with mountains and thick forests. The coastline was rocky, and there seemed to be some sort of facility nestled deep within the heart of the island.

When he landed on the shore, he carefully surveyed the area, making sure there were no signs of immediate danger. The island was eerily quiet, and the buildings in the distance looked abandoned. Mark couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The area seemed too… isolated. He decided to move forward, cautiously approaching the facility. He used the cover of the dense forest to hide his movements, keeping a sharp eye out for anything unusual. He could feel the pull of adventure, but it was tempered by the weight of the unknown.

As he moved closer, he wondered if Bob had known exactly what he was getting into or if he’d been manipulated by Mirage. Mark felt an instinctive need to figure this out not just for Bob's sake, but for the safety of everyone involved. As Bob parachuted into Nomanisan Island, he could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins. The mission was exactly what he’d been craving: a chance to prove that he was still capable, still strong. He landed with a heavy thud on the island’s rocky shore, rolling with the momentum before quickly getting to his feet.

The island’s strange, almost deserted atmosphere made him feel uneasy. His instincts were on high alert. But he shook off the feeling, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the area. Bob knew the only way to get to the heart of the situation was to explore. So, he pushed forward, the sounds of his boots crunching against the ground as he moved deeper into the jungle. Hours passed as he made his way through dense foliage and uneven terrain. The silence was unsettling, only broken by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant screech of an unknown creature. As he reached the heart of the island, his heart skipped a beat when he saw the facility in the distance, a cold, metallic structure that stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of nowhere.

Bob approached cautiously, his every move calculated. But before he could get too close, the ground beneath his feet shook, a low rumble in the distance. He looked up, and there it was: the Omnidroid, a towering, mechanical menace with glowing red eyes and an overwhelming sense of power. It turned toward Bob, its massive form making the ground tremble beneath its weight.

Without hesitation, Bob rushed in, his body moving instinctively as he attacked the mechanical beast. The Omnidroid retaliated with an array of missiles and energy blasts, but Bob dodged and countered, using his immense strength and agility to stay one step ahead. Every punch he landed seemed to do little more than dent the robot’s exterior, and for a moment, he wondered if he could actually defeat it.

The fight was brutal. The Omnidroid adapted to every strike, learning from Bob’s movements and countering more effectively with each attack. But Bob wasn’t going to back down. He had one trick up his sleeve: the Omnidroid’s power source. With a burst of strength, Bob grabbed hold of the Omnidroid’s arm, twisting it in a way that caused the machine to overextend. With a loud, metallic screech, the Omnidroid ripped a portion of itself open, revealing its exposed power core. Bob acted quickly, smashing through its defenses and ripping out the power source.

The robot staggered for a moment before its lights flickered and then went out, its body collapsing to the ground with a heavy crash. Bob stood there, panting, looking at the fallen machine. The battle had taken everything he had, but it was over. He had won. After returning to Metroville, Bob didn’t waste time resting. He was back in the gym, pushing himself harder than ever before. He lifted weights, ran drills, and worked on his agility, determined to get back into the best shape of his life. The fight with the Omnidroid had reminded him of just how out of practice he’d become, and he was going to fix that.

But it wasn’t just his body he needed to work on. He knew he had to rebuild his relationships with Helen and the kids. Over the past few weeks, he’d been distant, caught up in his own struggles, and he realized how much they’d missed out on. So, he made it a point to spend more time with his family. They went on outings, shared more meals together, and Bob made sure to express his love and appreciation for them in ways he hadn’t in a long time.

Even Jack-Jack, the unpredictable little bundle of chaos, seemed to warm up to him more. It was as if, in the chaos of it all, the family was coming back together. But Bob didn’t forget the mission that had brought him back to this point. His super suit was in tatters after the battle with the Omnidroid. He couldn’t help but hold onto it, staring at the torn fabric, the memories of the battle fresh in his mind. He wasn’t going to wear it again; he had no idea what future dangers lay ahead but it served as a reminder. A reminder that he was Mr. Incredible, and nothing could take that away from him.

Bob stood in the living room, staring at the damaged super suit in his hands, his thoughts consumed by the recent events. He'd beaten the Omnidroid, but there was a lingering sense of uncertainty. The island mission had been a wake-up call; he’d realized just how much time he’d lost, not only to his physical limitations but also to the relationships that meant the most to him. Helen walked into the room, her eyes softening when she saw him holding the torn suit. She could sense that Bob was deep in thought, something that had been happening more often lately. She crossed the room to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You did it, Bob. You saved the day, again.”

Bob gave her a small smile but didn't meet her eyes. "I did. But I wasn’t really thinking about saving the day... I was thinking about what I could’ve lost." Helen raised an eyebrow, a little confused. "What do you mean?" Bob set the super suit down on the couch and turned to face her. "I’ve been so caught up in trying to be the hero, I’ve forgotten to be... well, the husband and father. The family needs me just as much as Metroville does. Maybe more."

Helen’s expression softened even more as she understood what Bob meant. He hadn’t been absent physically, but emotionally, he’d been distant. They’d both been consumed with the chaos of their superhero lives, and now, things felt different. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t repair things. “I know,” she said, her voice steady but warm. “But you’re here now. And you’ve always been there when we needed you.”

Bob nodded, his lips tightening slightly. "I don’t want to make the same mistakes again. I don’t want to keep thinking that I have to fight alone. I’ve got my family, and that’s enough." Helen smiled at him, and there was a pause as they shared a quiet moment together. Then she pulled him into a hug, one that felt like it had been a long time coming. Bob held her close, realizing how much he needed her and how much they both needed each other.

Later that night, after the kids had gone to bed, Bob stood outside, looking up at the stars. The night felt different, quieter. It was peaceful. He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of his responsibilities now more clear than ever. His family had always been his greatest strength, and he knew it was time to embrace that fully. Just then, he heard a voice behind him.

"You know, you’re lucky," Helen said, standing in the doorway, arms folded. "You’ve got a whole family that loves you, and you’re not doing it alone." Bob turned to her and smiled, a genuine, relieved smile. "I think I’ve finally figured that out." She stepped up beside him, linking her arm with his. "And you’ll never be alone, Bob. You’ve got us." As the night deepened, they stood together, watching the world around them knowing that, whatever came next, they were ready. They were a family of incredible people, each with their own powers and challenges, but bound together by love and the strength they shared.

The next morning, Bob woke up early, stretching his muscles and feeling more energized than he had in months. He was ready for whatever came next. He had his family, and nothing was more important than that. Suddenly, the phone rang, interrupting the silence. Bob picked it up, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the voice on the other end. "Mr. Incredible," the voice said, calm yet authoritative. "We’ve got another situation on our hands. This one’s... different. We need you back in action."

Bob sighed, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at the kitchen, where Helen was preparing breakfast for the kids. "I'm in," he said, his voice resolute. "But I’m not going alone this time. We’re in this together." As the line clicked dead, Bob smiled to himself. The next challenge was waiting, but this time, he was bringing his family with him because they were, after all, his greatest strength.

Meanwhile, across town, a new threat loomed in the shadows. A figure in a dark cloak stepped into a secret lair, scanning a wall covered with maps and plans. The person muttered under their breath, unaware that they were being watched. The plans were set in motion, and soon, they would come face-to-face with Mr. Incredible and his team. Back at the Parr household, however, life moved forward in its usual chaotic rhythm. Jack-Jack's powers were unpredictable as ever, the kids were back to their school routines, and Bob and Helen knew that their family was ready for whatever came next

Mark stepped out of the Parr household, feeling the weight of his thoughts pressing on him. He had spent so much time trying to find his place in this world, trying to find answers, but something about the quiet suburban life felt... off. There was a restlessness inside him that wouldn’t let him settle. He wasn’t sure what he was searching for, but he knew he wouldn’t find it by just staying put.

As he wandered the city, the skyline towering above him, Mark reflected on everything that had happened since arriving here. He had helped the Parr family, faced countless challenges, but still, the feeling of being adrift lingered. Perhaps he needed to find a purpose here, something bigger to focus on. Then, he heard the sirens.

It wasn’t long before Mark’s sharp senses kicked in, and he could feel the tension in the air. Something wasn’t right. The ground vibrated beneath his feet, and a loud crash echoed in the distance. He instinctively moved towards the source of the chaos, his hand instinctively reaching for his Keyblade as his thoughts raced. He rounded a corner and saw it.

A large, metallic, flying machine was wreaking havoc on the city. It swooped down, firing blasts of energy that tore into the streets below. People screamed and ran for cover, but the destruction was swift and unforgiving. Standing on top of the machine, controlling it, was none other than the notorious villain, Syndrome. His wild red hair and smug grin made him an unmistakable figure. Mark’s eyes narrowed as he observed the chaos. This wasn’t just a random act of violence this was someone with a plan. And from the looks of it, the city was in serious trouble.

Mark’s first instinct was to charge in, but he stopped himself. No, he thought, maybe there was a better way. Perhaps he could talk to this man, understand his motives, and convince him to stop before it got worse. There was always a way to reach someone, wasn’t there?

Mark raised his voice, calling up to Syndrome. “Hey! Stop! What’s the point of all this destruction? You don’t have to do this.” Syndrome turned toward Mark, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh? What’s this? A hero trying to talk me out of it? How quaint.” He smirked and pressed a button on his control pad. The machine paused for a moment, hovering in mid-air as Syndrome lowered himself down onto the street, now face-to-face with Mark.

“You’re a fool if you think I’ll just stop because you say so,” Syndrome sneered. “You have no idea what I’m trying to do, do you? This city’s heroes, these so-called ‘Incredibles’ they don’t get it. They’re holding me back. They’re holding back progress.” His eyes glinted with madness as he took a step closer. “I’m going to change everything. Make everyone who was ever a hero obsolete. And when I’m done, I’ll be the one calling the shots. No more capes, no more ‘superheroes.’ Just me. The future.”

Mark felt the weight of Syndrome’s words, and for a moment, he hesitated. There was a dark logic in them Syndrome’s desire for control, his frustration with the world’s heroes, it wasn't completely alien to Mark. He, too, had been on the fringes for so long. But the method? The destruction? That was where the line had to be drawn. “I get it,” Mark said, his voice firm. “You want recognition. You want respect. But this isn’t the way to get it. You’re just hurting innocent people. You don’t need to destroy everything to make your mark.”

Syndrome laughed, a cold, harsh sound. “And what do you think you’re going to do about it, huh? Talk me out of it? You’re just another would-be hero with delusions of grandeur. You’ll see, sooner or later, that the only way to get what you want in this world is to take it. And that’s exactly what I’m doing.” Mark gripped his Keyblade tighter. He didn’t want to fight, but he couldn’t just stand by and let Syndrome wreak havoc on the city. “I can’t let you do that.”

With a swift motion, Mark leapt into the air, his Keyblade aimed at the machine. He wasn't sure how he was going to do this yet wasn’t even sure what kind of magic he would use. But as he approached, the sound of energy blasts interrupted his thoughts. Syndrome had turned the machine’s guns on him.

Mark dodged the first blast, rolling out of the way, but the second hit close, grazing his side. He grunted but quickly regained his footing, now ready to face the villain. His heart was pounding, not from fear but from the realization that there was no easy way out of this situation. “Alright, let’s do this,” Mark muttered under his breath, pulling himself together.

Mark wasn’t going to hold back any longer. He needed to stop Syndrome from causing more destruction. With a swift motion, he raised his Keyblade, charging forward, weaving through the blasts that the machine shot at him. Syndrome had underestimated him, but Mark had no intention of being another victim in this madman's plans. 

Syndrome sneered and gripped his control pad tightly. "You think you can take me down, hero? I'll make you regret that!" He slammed his fist onto a button, and the machine's weapons intensified, firing a barrage of lasers and missiles in Mark's direction. Mark dodged and countered with his own abilities. He summoned chains of dark green magic, aiming to trap the machine and halt its assault. The chains wrapped around its moving parts, forcing the machine to slow down. But that wasn’t enough. Syndrome wasn’t going to go down that easily.

With a smirk, Syndrome called out, “Backup! Bring it on!” Within moments, more machines, each more advanced and deadly than the last, descended from the sky, ready to join the fight. Mark’s eyes widened as they surrounded him, the odds now stacked against him. He gripped his Keyblade tighter, his thoughts racing. If he didn’t do something fast, he wouldn’t just be facing Syndrome; he’d be overwhelmed by his mechanical army.

Mark moved quickly, slashing at one of the incoming machines, his Keyblade cutting through metal with ease. But more were coming. The odds kept stacking up, and he was starting to feel the pressure. That’s when he heard the familiar sound of engines roaring overhead. “About time,” Mark muttered, noticing a new set of figures swooping down from the sky heroes. Mr. Incredible, Elastigirl, Dash, Violet, and Jack-Jack appeared, dropping from their own custom jet. They landed near Mark, prepared to assist.

Mr. Incredible wasted no time. He launched himself into the fray, his superhuman strength tearing through the robotic foes with ease. "You alright, kid?" he asked Mark, giving him a nod as he smashed one of the robots with a single punch. Mark nodded, a determined look on his face. "Yeah, but this guy's not going to go down that easily." Syndrome was seething as he watched the Incredibles join the fight. "I had this all to myself," he growled. "But fine, you want a team-up? Let's see how you handle this!"

Syndrome hit another button, and a massive robotic version of himself dropped down from a hidden hatch in the sky. The robot was an enormous mechanical version of Syndrome, with all the firepower and tools at his disposal. It was clear that this fight was about to get a whole lot more intense. Mark turned to the Incredibles, his voice steady. "We need to take that thing down first. We’ll deal with Syndrome after." Bob gave him a confident smile. "Lead the way. We'll back you up."

The battle escalated. Mark’s chains lashed out at the robotic version of Syndrome, trying to bind its arms and restrict its movements. Violet used her force fields to protect the group from incoming blasts while Dash zipped around, distracting the robot with his incredible speed. Elastigirl stretched herself out, wrapping around the robot’s legs and trying to trip it, while Bob punched through its defenses, weakening it. But the robot was built tough, and it wasn’t going to be taken down so easily.

Mark gritted his teeth. "I’ll need some time to get in close," he said, jumping up onto one of the robot’s arms. He slashed at its joints, aiming to weaken its mobility. "Keep it distracted!" Bob nodded and dashed forward, throwing powerful punches at the robot’s chest, but it seemed almost impervious to their efforts. Syndrome watched from the sidelines, a maniacal grin on his face. "You're playing right into my hands. This is my world now." Mark clenched his fist, eyes narrowing. "Not today, Syndrome."

With one final, coordinated push from the Incredibles, Mark gathered his energy, summoning a wave of dark green chains that erupted from his Keyblade, binding the robot’s limbs tightly. The Incredibles took advantage of the opening. Violet's force field protected Bob long enough for him to get in a devastating blow, shattering the robot’s core.

The robot collapsed, sparking and twitching before going completely still. Syndrome’s expression soured as he watched his creation fall apart. "No! It was supposed to be unstoppable!" he shouted in disbelief. Mark gave him a cold look. "You underestimated the wrong people, Syndrome."

As the authorities secured Syndrome, the city slowly returned to normal. The damage would take time to repair, but the Incredibles had saved the day once more thanks, in part, to Mark. Just as he turned to leave, a familiar sensation pulsed through the air. A shimmering light began to swirl above the city skyline, coalescing into a glowing, intricate shape. A Keyhole.

Mark took a step forward, gripping his Keyblade. He knew what this meant this world was now connected, its heart exposed. It needed to be sealed before darkness could find its way in. Bob, Helen, and the kids looked up at the spectacle in awe. “What… is that?” Helen asked. Mark turned to them with a small, almost regretful smile. “It means my time here is up.” Violet frowned. “You’re leaving?” Dash crossed his arms. “Man, just when it was getting cool.”

Mark chuckled softly. “Sorry, but I don’t really get to stay in one place for long.” He turned to Bob and extended his hand. “Thanks for everything. You and your family… you reminded me of something important.” Bob shook his hand firmly. “You ever find your way back, you’ve got a place here.” Mark nodded, then turned to Jack-Jack, who babbled and waved his tiny hands. “Take care of that one,” he said with a smirk.

With that, he raised his Keyblade toward the Keyhole. A beam of light shot from its tip, striking the center of the glowing portal. The entire sky rippled as if reacting to his action. Then, with a final, resounding click, the Keyhole sealed itself, vanishing into nothingness. But before Mark could steady himself, darkness surged beneath him. A sudden force yanked him downward, pulling him into a swirling abyss.

“Mark!” Bob called out, but it was too late he was gone. Mark landed hard against a cold, stone floor. He groaned, pushing himself up slowly. Darkness surrounded him, lingering in the air like mist. He was back in the abyss, the space between worlds. As he adjusted to his surroundings, his gaze fell upon something nearby. A glint of metal against the ground.

A Keychain. Mark reached down and picked it up. The design was unmistakable circles of yellow at the top, orange in the middle, and red at the bottom. And at the very end of the chain, the emblem of The Incredibles. He rolled it between his fingers, feeling its weight. Another world, another memory. With a quiet sigh, he put the Keychain in his pocket as he turned forward, stepping into the unknown once again.

*==================*
[Mark obtained: Hero’s Ally✨ ]
*==================*

Chapter 7: Mysterious Tower, Depths of Darkness & Enchanted Dominion?

The scene shifted to Yen Sid’s tower, the dim glow of enchanted candles casting flickering shadows along the walls. The old sorcerer stood with his hands folded behind his back, his expression somber as he gazed into his magical orb. Within its swirling light, faint images of Mark’s journey faded into darkness. Behind him, Donald Duck and Goofy stood in silence, their usual energy replaced with a heavy sense of concern. “So that’s what happened to Mark?” Donald muttered, his wings tightening into fists. Goofy scratched the back of his head, his long ears drooping. “Gawrsh… he’s been through a lot, huh?”

Yen Sid turned toward them, his eyes heavy with wisdom and concern. “Mark continues to walk the path laid before him. However, I fear that the burden he carries is growing heavier with each passing trial.” Goofy tilted his head. “Ya mean ‘cause he keeps gettin’ pulled into the darkness?” The old sorcerer slowly nodded, but then, with a wave of his hand, he summoned an object onto the desk before them. It was Mark’s Wayfinder.

The once-vibrant charm, created with such care and hope, now looked damaged. A visible chip marred one of its edges, and the soft glow it once had was fading, losing its colors. Donald’s eyes widened. “W-Wait… what happened to it?! It wasn’t like that before!” Yen Sid sighed. “This is the result of what King Mickey did.” Donald and Goofy flinched at the name, exchanging nervous glances. “Mickey…” Goofy muttered.

Yen Sid continued, his voice calm but firm. “Though his intentions were not cruel, his actions have left a mark. The Wayfinder is more than a mere charm; it is a reflection of Mark’s heart. And now, it is damaged.” Donald swallowed. “B-But… it’s not completely broken, right?” “No,” Yen Sid confirmed. “However, if this continues, Mark’s path may lead to an outcome even he cannot foresee… I’ve tried using my magic to fix this but there’s been no progress..”

Goofy furrowed his brows, his usually soft expression turning serious. “Then we gotta do somethin’, right? Maybe we can help fix it!” Yen Sid closed his eyes for a moment, considering the weight of their words. “Perhaps,” he said at last. “But Mark’s journey is his own. What he needs is not interference, but understanding. Until the time comes, we must watch… and wait.”

Donald clenched his beak, frustration evident in his expression. “Just watching won’t do anything…” Goofy, however, nodded, though worry still lingered in his features. “I sure hope he’s okay…” As they spoke, the Wayfinder sat motionless on Yen Sid’s desk, its light flickering faintly still present, but fragile. A reflection of Mark’s struggle. And perhaps… a warning of what was to come.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The orb's swirling light shifted, casting its glow upon Mark. Yen Sid’s watchful gaze remained steady as he observed the lone Keyblade wielder wandering through an unfamiliar landscape. The air around Mark was thick with tension, a feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong.

And then, the darkness struck. From the shadows, countless Heartless erupted all at once. Neoshadows, Invisibles, Wyverns a massive swarm surrounding Mark like a storm of pure malice. Their glowing yellow eyes locked onto him as they lunged in unison. Mark gritted his teeth, gripping his Keyblade tightly. With a sharp motion, he thrust his blade forward. "Firaga!" A massive sphere of fire launched outward, exploding into a fiery blast that incinerated a wave of Heartless. Smoke and embers filled the air, but the creatures kept coming. "Waterga!"

A spiraling torrent of water surged from his Keyblade, crashing into the next wave like a tidal force, washing them away into nothingness. "Blizzaga!" Ice spread across the battlefield, freezing several Heartless solid before he shattered them with a single swing. "Aeroga!" Wind erupted around him, forming a violent vortex that sent countless foes spiraling into the void. "Poisonga!" A dark mist seeped into the remaining Heartless, causing their bodies to wither and collapse as the toxic energy ate away at them.

"Earthga!" The ground trembled beneath him as jagged pillars of rock surged up, crushing the last of the swarm beneath their weight. Mark stood panting, his body aching from the relentless onslaught. His ears twitched, catching the sound of something massive moving behind him. A shadow loomed over him. Before he could react, a giant hand came crashing down. SMASH! Mark was slammed into the ground, the force knocking the air from his lungs. His vision blurred as he struggled to push himself up, but his fingers brushed against something on the ground his Handmade Wayfinder.

It had fallen out of his pocket. His breath caught in his throat as a massive, clawed hand reached down. The Darkside. The towering Heartless grasped Mark’s precious Wayfinder between its monstrous fingers. And then CRACK. Mark’s eyes widened. The Darkside crushed it. Pieces of the Wayfinder crumbled between its fingers, falling like shattered fragments of his past. Something inside Mark snapped. A violent surge of rage, pain, and despair surged through him as he gripped his Keyblade tightly. "No!!" With a sudden burst of raw power, Mark launched himself upward. His Keyblade glowed with fury as he struck the Darkside’s arm, carving through it in one powerful slash.

The creature reeled back, its massive form staggering. Mark didn’t let up. His attacks became relentless. Each strike was fueled by uncontrolled emotion, his magic crackling violently with every movement. A final thrust sent his Keyblade piercing through the Darkside’s core. A massive shockwave burst from the impact. The Darkside let out a distorted wail before its shadowy form began to break apart, dissolving into the void. Mark landed roughly, his breathing ragged. His body ached, but none of it mattered. His gaze fell to the ground. The shattered remains of his Wayfinder lay before him. He dropped to his knees, staring at the broken pieces with an empty expression.

His hands trembled as he reached forward, carefully picking up the largest fragment. His ears flattened against his head. “…What am I even doing?” he muttered. “... Why do I keep trying?” The magic that once flowed through the charm was gone. The connection symbolized fading. Mark's grip on the fragment tightened. He had lost another piece of himself.

*=================*
[Mark obtained: Terraform✨ ]
*=================*

Mark stared at the broken charm in his hand, his grip trembling. For a long moment, he simply gazed at it, as if willing it to fix itself to somehow undo what had just happened. But nothing changed. His ears flattened as he exhaled a slow, shaky breath. Then, without another word, he let it fall. The fragmented Wayfinder hit the ground with a soft clatter, lost among the dirt and shadows.

Mark pushed himself to his feet, still catching his breath from the battle. He looked around the area, a lifeless void, silent and empty. And then, something caught his eye. A chest. It sat alone, faintly illuminated by a strange, eerie glow. Mark hesitated at first but eventually approached it. With a swift motion, he unlatched the lid. A soft hum filled the air as the chest opened, revealing something inside.

*===============*
[ Mark Learned: Curaga✨ ]
*===============*

But as he turned, something else drew his attention. A chain. Just like before shimmering, spectral, stretching into the unknown. Mark didn’t hesitate this time. His Keyblade flashed into existence as he reached out. With a single motion, he struck the chain. A force yanked him forward. The world around him blurred, twisted vanishing into darkness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he landed, the air felt heavy. Mark slowly rose to his feet, his gaze scanning his surroundings. He knew this place. It looked like Enchanted Dominion. The castle, the forests, it was all so familiar. But something was wrong. Everything was darker. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the landscape, twisting and shifting like living things. The once-enchanted air now held a foreboding stillness, thick with an unsettling presence. Mark’s ears twitched. Something wasn’t right here. And he wasn’t alone.

Mark took a cautious step forward, his boots pressing lightly against the eerie, dimly lit ground. The air was thick with an unnatural stillness, as if the entire world was holding its breath. His golden eyes flicked around, taking in the familiar yet twisted sight of what should have been Enchanted Dominion. The towering castle loomed in the distance, but its once majestic glow was now swallowed by darkness. The sky overhead wasn’t just dark it felt hollow, endless, like something had drained the very life from it.

He walked through the landscape, his ears twitching at the faintest sounds. Leaves crunched beneath his boots, yet no wind stirred them. The trees, gnarled and lifeless, stood like twisted skeletons of what they once were. “Something’s wrong…” Mark muttered, gripping his Keyblade tightly. As he explored deeper, he noticed remnants of old pathways, stone bridges now cracked and broken, roads leading to what used to be villages but were now deserted ruins. Even the rivers had dried up, leaving behind a blackened, lifeless expanse.

He knelt down, brushing his fingers against the ground. It was cold, lifeless. This wasn’t just some curse or illusion something had drained this world. Mark stood back up and kept moving, stepping carefully through the twisted landscape. His mind raced with questions: what happened here? Why did it feel so different from before? And most importantly was anyone still here? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out. But deep down, he knew he would have to.

As Mark pressed forward, his ears twitched at the sound of something shifting in the distance. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate, echoing unnaturally in the hollow silence. His grip on his Keyblade tightened as he turned a corner, eyes scanning the darkened ruins ahead. A figure stood at the edge of the crumbling road. Tall, cloaked in darkness, with piercing, glowing eyes. The very air around them seemed to ripple with an ominous energy. Mark took a cautious step forward. "Who’s there?"

The figure didn’t respond right away. Instead, they took a slow step forward, their voice cutting through the air low, controlled, and eerily familiar. "Lost again, are we?" Mark’s fur bristled as recognition settled in. He had met this person before. Young Xehanort. The time traveler stood there, his arms folded behind his back, the very presence of him sending a chill down Mark’s spine.

"This world… it withers like so many others before it," Xehanort mused, gazing up at the darkened sky. "Tell me, Mark… does it remind you of something?" Mark gritted his teeth, his tail flicking behind him in irritation. "What are you doing here?" Xehanort chuckled softly. "Observing. Learning. The usual." He tilted his head, studying Mark like a puzzle piece he had yet to place. "And you… well, I suppose you’re still clinging to the light, even now."

Mark’s ears flattened as he raised his Keyblade slightly. "If you think I’m going to let you do whatever it is you’re planning." Xehanort simply raised a hand, shaking his head. "No, no… I don’t think you’ll ‘let’ me do anything. But tell me, Mark… how much longer do you think you can keep fighting? How much longer before the darkness swallows you whole?"

Mark felt something twist in his chest at those words. His Wayfinder had been destroyed. He had been thrown from world to world, lost, alone, doubting himself. The weight of it all pressed against him like an unseen force. Xehanort’s eyes gleamed knowingly. "You’ve already felt it, haven’t you? That despair. That doubt. You may not say it aloud, but in your heart, you’re already asking yourself… ‘why bother?’"

Mark’s claws dug into the grip of his Keyblade. “Shut up!" Xehanort smirked. "Deny it all you want… but sooner or later, you’ll come to understand." He turned slightly, as if ready to leave. "When that time comes, I’ll be waiting." And with that, he vanished into the shadows. Mark stood there, fists clenched, his breathing heavy. The words clung to him like a poison, sinking deep. Was Xehanort right? Was he really… falling?

Mark stood there for a moment, his ears twitching, his grip on his Keyblade tightening. Xehanort’s words echoed in his head, but he shook them off, his tail flicking in irritation. He wasn’t about to let some time-traveling manipulator get in his head, not now. He turned his focus back to the darkened ruins ahead. This world was similar to Enchanted Dominion, but something was… wrong. The air was thick with darkness, the sky an eerie swirl of deep purple and black. The castle loomed in the distance, its once-elegant spires now twisted and jagged, like thorn-covered spears piercing the heavens. Mark exhaled and pressed forward.

As he moved through the desolate landscape, the remains of a once-grand forest stretched before him now, it was nothing more than ashen husks of trees, their charred forms standing like silent sentinels. Shadows flickered between them, but Mark ignored the distant stirrings. Eventually, he reached the castle gates, massive and twisted with thorn-covered vines. He placed a hand against them, expecting resistance, but the gates creaked open on their own, as if inviting him in. His ears flattened. “Not ominous at all…”

Stepping inside, he found himself in a long corridor illuminated only by sputtering green flames lining the walls. The air was thick with malice, and the deeper he walked, the stronger that presence became. And then a voice. "How bold of you… to step into my domain uninvited." Mark stopped in his tracks. At the end of the corridor, seated upon an ornate throne of blackened stone and thorny vines, was none other than Maleficent.

Her piercing yellow eyes gleamed in the dim light, and her staff rested against the arm of her throne. She sat with her usual air of confidence and cruelty, gazing at him with amusement. "And what, pray tell, brings a lost little Keyblade wielder to my castle?" she purred. Mark exhaled sharply, stepping forward. "I came looking for answers." Maleficent raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. "How interesting… and what makes you think I have them?"

Mark held his ground. "Because you’ve been dealing with darkness longer than anyone. If anyone knows how to control it… it’s you." Maleficent tilted her head slightly, a smirk playing on her lips. "Control, you say? My dear, darkness is not something one simply 'controls'… but rather, something one embraces." She leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing. "Tell me… what has left you so desperate that you would seek guidance from me?"

Mark stood his ground, his ears twitching as he stared at Maleficent. Her words lingered in the air, dripping with temptation and mockery. He clenched his fists. “I don’t want to embrace darkness. I want to understand it… and why it keeps pulling me in.” Maleficent chuckled, twirling her staff between her fingers. “Oh, how naïve. You wield the Keyblade, and yet you still do not see? Darkness is not merely something that ‘pulls you in… it is part of you. Denying it will only lead to ruin.”

Mark narrowed his eyes. “And what would you know about that?” Maleficent stood gracefully from her throne, stepping toward him, her cloak flowing behind her like liquid shadow. “I know more than you could possibly fathom, child.” She circled him like a predator sizing up its prey. “The light you cling to so desperately is fleeting. It is fragile, temporary. But darkness? Darkness endures. It waits. It grows.” Mark turned his head slightly to watch her, but he didn’t move. “And yet you’ve lost before. Many times.”

Maleficent stopped behind him, and for a moment, the room fell into a tense silence. Then, she let out a low, amused laugh. “Oh, how bold you are.” She walked back into view, her expression unfazed. “You misunderstand, Keyblade wielder. I do not lose, I adapt.” Mark crossed his arms. “Is that what you tell yourself?” Her smirk faltered ever so slightly, but then her expression softened into something… different. "You are lost, aren’t you?" Mark stiffened.

"Your heart wavers. You question yourself. You came here not for answers but for reassurance." Maleficent tilted her head, her tone suddenly less taunting and more… intrigued. “Tell me, what happened that has left you so uncertain?” Mark felt his stomach tighten. His mind flashed to his broken Wayfinder, the last piece of his past, shattered in the palm of his hand. He thought of Mickey, of Yen Sid, of the way his journey kept leading him further into darkness, no matter how hard he fought. He looked away. "It doesn't matter." Maleficent studied him for a moment. Then, she gave a slow, knowing smile. "Oh, but it does. It always does."

She turned away, pacing back toward her throne. "You have two paths before you, dear Mark. Continue your foolish struggle against the inevitable..." She sat back down, resting her staff against the armrest, her yellow eyes glowing in the dim green light. "Or embrace what you are becoming. Accept it... and make it your own." Mark exhaled sharply. "And if I refuse?" Maleficent leaned forward slightly, her smirk widening. "Then you will be devoured by the very darkness you claim to fight." Mark stood there, gripping his Keyblade tighter. He didn't want to believe her. But deep down... was she right?

Mark stood tall, his heart pounding in his chest as he faced Maleficent. Her words echoed in his mind, but he refused to let them dictate his choices. He stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. “I’ll make my own path,” he declared, his voice firm and resolute. “I don’t need to follow either the light or the darkness. I’ll choose my own way, even if it means walking alone.”

For a moment, the room fell silent. Maleficent’s eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a cold, furious sneer. Her fingers tightened around the staff in her grip, the shadows around her swirling more violently. “You are a fool,” she hissed, her voice laced with venom. “You think you can walk a path of your own, free of light and darkness? You are nothing but a child playing at being a hero. Your heart is weak, Mark. You cannot escape the truth!” Mark didn’t flinch. “I’m not a child. I’m just someone trying to understand who I really am.”

Maleficent’s fury only intensified. She stood up from her throne, her voice rising in anger. “You would dare defy me? After all I’ve shown you, would you still turn your back on the power I offer?” Her eyes glowed brighter, and the shadows around her seemed to grow more oppressive. “I have walked through countless worlds, shaping them in my image. And you think you can simply walk away from me?” Mark clenched his fists, ready for whatever came next. He wasn’t afraid. “I’m not going to follow your path, Maleficent,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll forge my own, and I’ll fight for what I believe in. And if that means standing against you, so be it.”

The dark sorceress let out a low, menacing laugh, though it was clear her patience had worn thin. “Very well, Mark. But remember this: There is no escaping the darkness. You may think you’ve chosen your path, but in the end, the darkness will find you. And when it does…” She raised her hand, her magic crackling ominously in the air. “I will be waiting.” Mark’s grip on his Keyblade tightened. He was ready for whatever came next.

Maleficent took a step back, her figure slowly fading into the swirling shadows around her. “We will see, Keyblade wielder. We will see.” As she disappeared into the darkness, Mark exhaled sharply, his heart racing. He was still standing, still fighting, and still unsure of where his journey would lead. But one thing was certain: he would never let anyone, no matter how powerful, force him onto a path he didn’t choose for himself.

Mark turned away from Maleficent’s throne room, his mind still racing from their confrontation. He had stood his ground, refused her offer, and made it clear he would walk his own path. As he stepped through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, the oppressive atmosphere pressed down on him. The eerie silence only made his footsteps sound louder against the cold stone floor.

Then, without warning, a thick, inky darkness pooled on the ground ahead of him. Shadows twisted and rose up, forming into multiple Heartless. Yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness, staring hungrily at him. Neoshadows. Mark tensed, gripping his Keyblade tightly as more of them slithered out of the dark. Their bodies flickered in and out of the shadows, moving unnaturally fast, circling him like predators cornering their prey.

“Of course she wouldn’t just let me leave,” Mark muttered under his breath, his ears flicking back as he readied himself. One of the Neoshadows lunged. Mark reacted instantly, sidestepping and slashing his Keyblade in a clean arc. The creature dispersed into darkness, but two more took its place, clawing at him from both sides. Mark leaped back, twisting mid-air before landing on the stone floor, his grip on his Keyblade tightening. He couldn’t afford to drag this out.

Raising his free hand, he gathered energy, his voice firm as he called out: “Blizzaga!” A flurry of ice erupted from his palm, freezing several of the Heartless in their tracks. He didn’t waste time; he dashed forward, shattering them with a single powerful swing. But more kept coming. Mark growled in frustration. “Alright, fine.” He slammed his Keyblade against the ground. “Earthga!”

The castle trembled as jagged rock spikes shot up from the floor, impaling multiple Neoshadows at once. The remaining Heartless hesitated for a split second, and that was all Mark needed. Summoning a powerful gust of wind, he used Aeroga to propel himself forward, slashing through the last wave of enemies. As the final Neoshadow burst into darkness, Mark landed in a crouch, panting slightly. Silence returned. Mark took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. He looked back toward the corridor that led to Maleficent’s throne room. She had sent these after him, that much was clear. “Guess that was my goodbye gift.” Shaking his head, he turned on his heel and continued toward the exit. He had no reason to stay in this castle any longer.

As Mark stepped out of the castle’s massive gates, an unsettling sight greeted him. The world around him was beginning to unravel. Darkness spread across the landscape like a creeping infection, consuming the once-stable ground, swallowing trees, and distorting the very air. The sky, once a deep, starless void, now churned with swirling black clouds and streaks of violet energy crackling across the heavens.

Mark's ears flattened as he stepped forward cautiously, gripping his Keyblade tightly. The stone path beneath him cracked and fractured, sinking into the abyss as the darkness continued to spread. “This isn’t good…” he muttered. He had seen worlds fall to darkness before, but witnessing it in real-time was different. The sheer weight of this situation, its reality twisted and dissolved sent a chill down his spine. Could he stop it?

He had sealed Keyholes before, but this… this was something else. If the world itself was already crumbling, then had he come too late? Mark looked around, trying to find something that could serve as the Keyhole of the world. If he could find it, maybe he could lock it before the darkness consumed everything. A deep, rumbling growl echoed in the distance, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He turned sharply. More Heartless were emerging, drawn to the world’s impending collapse. Shadows with glowing eyes slithered forward, while flying creatures twisted through the air like vultures circling a dying beast. Mark clenched his jaw. “I don’t have time for this.” With a burst of movement, he dashed forward, cutting through the Heartless as he searched for the world’s Keyhole. But with each step, the ground behind him crumbled into the abyss. If he didn’t figure something out soon, he’d be swallowed along with it.

As Mark sprinted through the crumbling ruins of Enchanted Dominion, his ears twitched at the sound of hurried footsteps not far from him. He skidded to a stop, his Keyblade still gripped tightly, as a figure emerged from the shadows a man clad in a red cape and shining armor, a determined fire in his eyes.

Prince Phillip. Mark had heard of him before, a brave warrior who had once defeated Maleficent when she took the form of a dragon. But right now, Phillip looked just as lost as Mark felt. "You there!" Phillip called, urgency in his voice. "Have you seen Princess Aurora? I must find her before it’s too late!" Mark hesitated, his grip tightening on his Keyblade.

Aurora… Was she still in the castle? If Maleficent had gotten to her first… or worse, if she was already lost to the darkness. He shook his head. No, he couldn’t think like that. "I don’t know," Mark admitted, glancing over his shoulder at the swirling darkness consuming more of the world. "But this place is falling apart. We might not have much time before it’s gone completely." Phillip’s expression hardened. "Then I must go to her."

Mark exhaled sharply. His instincts told him to help, but another part of him screamed that sealing the Keyhole had to be his top priority. What was the right thing to do? If he went with Phillip, there was a chance they could save Aurora. But if the Keyhole wasn’t sealed in time, this entire world would be lost. His tail flicked in frustration. "Listen," he said quickly. "I want to help. I do. But if we don’t stop this darkness, there won’t be a world left to save Aurora in."

Phillip took a step forward. "Then help me find her, and we will stop this darkness together!" Mark looked down, conflicted. He had spent so much time just surviving, following the flow of the worlds. But standing here, being asked to choose… it was forcing him to face something he had been avoiding. Was he just here to seal Keyholes? Or was he here to protect the people in these worlds, too? Taking a deep breath, Mark finally spoke. "Alright… let’s go find Aurora."

Mark and Prince Phillip made their way through the darkened corridors of the castle, their footsteps echoing against the cold stone floor. Shadows flickered against the walls, shifting unnaturally as if the very castle itself was alive with dark magic. Mark’s ears twitched at every distant sound, his Keyblade ready in his grip.

"Are you sure she’s here?" Mark asked, glancing at Phillip as they pushed forward. Phillip nodded. "She must be. Maleficent would not let her escape so easily." The deeper they ventured, the heavier the air became. The castle, once regal and grand, now felt like a tomb silent, waiting. Mark could feel the darkness pulsing around them like a heartbeat. And then, as they turned a corner into a grand hall, she was there.

A tall, imposing figure stood at the far end of the room, her black and purple robes flowing like shadows themselves. Her green eyes gleamed with amusement, as if she had expected them all along. Maleficent. "So, you return to my castle, little prince," Maleficent spoke, her voice smooth yet filled with disdain. Her gaze then flickered to Mark. "And you… You should have taken my offer when you had the chance." Mark gritted his teeth. "I told you, I will make my own path, and I'll prove it too!"

Maleficent chuckled darkly, shaking her head. "A pity. You could have wielded power beyond your imagining, yet you cling to foolish ideals. Just like him." Mark narrowed his eyes. Him? But before he could ask, Phillip took a bold step forward, drawing his sword. "Where is Aurora?" he demanded. "What have you done with her?" Maleficent smirked, waving her staff. "Oh, dear prince, do you think I would let you simply waltz in and reclaim your sleeping beauty?"

With a flick of her wrist, dark magic pulsed through the room. The shadows twisted and from them emerged a wave of Heartless Neoshadows, their glowing eyes piercing through the darkness. "You will never leave this castle alive." Maleficent declared. Mark instinctively raised his Keyblade as the creatures lunged toward them. "Guess talking’s over." Phillip tightened his grip on his sword. "Then we fight!"

The Heartless lunged forward, their glowing yellow eyes fixated on their prey. Mark wasted no time, gripping his Keyblade tightly as he surged forward, slashing through the first wave of Neoshadows with precise strikes. Sparks of dark energy scattered from his attacks, but the Heartless only kept coming.

Phillip fought valiantly beside him, swinging his sword with the skill of a true warrior. His blade clashed against the creatures, but it was clear that normal weapons couldn’t fully defeat them. "These fiends." Phillip grunted, stepping back as another Neoshadow swiped at him. "They keep coming!" Mark pivoted, flipping over a Heartless before landing near Phillip. "Only a Keyblade can finish them off for good!" He knocked back another group before standing firm. "Cover me, I’ll handle the rest!" Phillip nodded, blocking an incoming attack while Mark took a deep breath, feeling the energy surge within him. "Thunderweaver!"

Electricity crackled around Mark’s Keyblade as arcs of golden lightning whipped outward, zigzagging across the battlefield. The lightning lashed through the Neoshadows, bursting them apart in rapid succession. Some tried to escape, but the Thunderweaver’s tendrils followed, chasing them down before striking with a final, powerful blast. The hall was momentarily bathed in light as the last of the Neoshadows disintegrated. "Hmph," Maleficent scoffed, tapping her staff against the floor. "Impressive, but I’ve yet to be entertained."

She waved to her staff again, and suddenly, the room filled with the sounds of clanking armor and heavy footsteps. The castle's grotesque, goons her loyal minions charged forward, wielding crude weapons and shields. "More?" Mark muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, then. Let’s go." Phillip held his sword at the ready. "I will not falter." The two warriors braced themselves as Maleficent’s forces surged toward them.

The goons charged forward with menacing grins, their rusted weapons raised high. Mark and Phillip stood their ground, ready for battle. Phillip was the first to strike, slashing through the nearest goon with a powerful swing of his sword. The creature staggered back before collapsing in a heap. Mark, meanwhile, dashed forward, his Keyblade spinning as he parried an incoming axe strike. He twisted his weapon and sent a shockwave outward, knocking several goons off their feet.

One of the larger goons swung a massive club toward Phillip, but the prince swiftly dodged, countering with a precise strike to the creature’s legs, sending it tumbling to the floor. “You’re good with a sword,” Mark commented, flipping over a group of enemies before landing behind them. Phillip smirked, blocking another attack. “And you wield magic unlike anything I’ve seen before.”

Mark pressed forward, spinning his Keyblade in a wide arc. “Then let’s wrap this up.” He channeled his magic once more, summoning Blizzaga. A cold wind howled through the chamber as a wave of ice erupted from the floor, freezing several goons in their tracks. Phillip wasted no time, shattering them with swift strikes. More goons surrounded Mark, their jagged weapons ready to strike. Mark quickly raised his Keyblade. "Aeroga!"

A powerful gust of wind burst outward, sending the enemies flying against the walls. As they collapsed, Phillip and Mark turned to face the last remaining goon  trembling, smaller creature clutching a rusty dagger. Mark tilted his head. "You wanna keep going?" The goon shook its head frantically, dropped its weapon, and ran off down the hall. Phillip lowered his sword, exhaling. "That should be the last of them."

As the last of the goons scattered and fled, Maleficent’s silhouette appeared in the shadows, towering above the battlefield. Her sharp eyes flicked over her fallen minions with utter disdain. "Pathetic," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "To think you could defeat my goons so easily..." With a wave of her hand, the creatures trembled and began to dissolve into dark wisps, vanishing into the air. Maleficent’s dark power surged, and her eyes flickered with annoyance.

"You!" She glared at Mark, her expression twisted with contempt. "Foolish boy. You think you can stop me?" Prince Phillip had already darted up the winding stairs of the castle, his sword gripped tightly, searching for Aurora. Mark stood alone, his eyes steady as Maleficent turned her full attention to him. "You will not leave this place alive," Maleficent threatened, a sinister grin spreading across her face.

Mark clenched his fists, stepping forward with determination. "Is it really worth it, Maleficent?" he asked, his voice strong despite the looming darkness. "Is it really worth bringing this world to its knees just to rule over a broken, soulless place?" Maleficent laughed, the sound echoing throughout the ruined castle walls. "Oh, how amusing. The boy who thinks he can lecture me on morality!" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You do not understand the power I wield, the destiny I’m forging! What do you know of loss, of vengeance, of what it means to rule?"

Mark didn’t flinch. "I know enough," he said, his gaze unwavering. "I know that even the strongest darkness can be overcome if you choose to let go of the hatred." Maleficent’s expression twisted into a sneer, and with a wave of her hand, dark energy swirled around her. "You dare lecture me? You’re nothing but a boy, playing at being a hero!" Mark's heart surged with the pain of all the worlds he had witnessed fall, all the pain and suffering that came from unchecked ambition. "You’re wrong," Mark replied quietly. "You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to keep feeding the darkness." Maleficent’s eyes flared with fury. "Enough!" she screeched. "I will make you regret your interference!" Suddenly, with a flick of her wrist, a torrent of dark magic blasted toward Mark.

He barely had time to raise his Keyblade, the blast striking him with an overwhelming force, sending him crashing against the stone walls of the castle. Mark coughed, barely staying on his feet, the world spinning around him. His mind raced as Maleficent stepped closer, her sinister laugh filling the air. "You should have stayed out of my way, boy," she mocked, her voice dripping with malice. Mark gritted his teeth, pushing himself up from the rubble. His hand tightened around his Keyblade. "I won't give up," he growled under his breath. "Not now. Not ever."

With a powerful cry, he surged forward, slashing his Keyblade through the air with all his might. The clash between their powers created an explosion of light and shadow, the castle shaking from the impact. Mark’s eyes burned with determination, and as Maleficent's dark energy met his, he threw himself into the fray, pushing back against the overwhelming darkness with every ounce of his strength.

As Mark and Maleficent's battle raged on, the castle around them began to tremble and crack. The walls shuddered with each powerful strike, and debris fell in chunks, causing the very ground to break apart beneath their feet. The castle, once a symbol of Maleficent's dark power, seemed to buckle under the intensity of their clash.

Mark was exhausted, his body battered and bruised from the relentless attacks. Maleficent's dark magic overwhelmed him at times, and he stumbled, struggling to maintain his footing. His vision blurred, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. But then, something strange began to happen. As Maleficent's magic shot toward him, Mark's Keyblade suddenly pulsed with an intense, dark green light, its glow brighter than ever before. His heart surged with an unfamiliar energy, and the pain he had felt moments ago seemed to fade away.

Mark quickly rose to his feet, now empowered by the force coursing through his Keyblade. He could feel the connection to the Keyblade more than ever before the weight of it, the purpose. With a deep breath, he clenched his fist around the hilt and charged forward. Maleficent, sensing the sudden shift in power, snarled, summoning a final wave of dark energy to strike him down. But Mark was ready. With a swift motion, he slashed through the wave, breaking it apart and sending a shockwave of energy toward the dark sorceress.

The impact sent Maleficent flying backward, crashing against the crumbling castle walls. The ground beneath her feet cracked wide open, and she stumbled, struggling to regain her balance. Mark stood tall, his Keyblade still glowing dark green as he took a step forward. With a final, decisive strike, he launched himself at Maleficent, slashing through her dark magic. The battle was over. Maleficent screamed in frustration, her body disintegrating into dark smoke. As her form faded, her voice echoed in the ruined castle. "You think you've won, Mark?!" she hissed. "I will return, and when I do, I will bring destruction to every world you love! You’ll regret ever crossing me!"

With her final words hanging in the air, Mark stood over the wreckage, panting heavily. The ruins of the castle began to crumble further, and he knew he had to leave. But just as he turned to walk away, Maleficent's voice reached his ears again, cold and mocking. "You may have won today, but I’ve met others like you, Mark. Ventus... Terra and Aqua…" Mark froze. His heart skipped a beat. "Terra…Ventus... Aqua..." he whispered under his breath.

Maleficent's laughter filled the air as she added, "Yes, I’ve met them. They were looking for their friend, Terra... a fool who thought he could control his own darkness. But his struggle led him down a darker path. How familiar they all seemed, and how you, too, will fall if you're not careful, Mark."

Mark's mind raced, the names echoing in his thoughts. "Terra, Aqua and Ventus?" he murmured, his voice filled with confusion. "What do you mean? How do you know them?" Maleficent's cruel laugh pierced the air one final time as she faded into the shadows. "I know more than you think, boy. You would do well to remember the darkness that follows them all... and you," she sneered. "You’ll see them again soon enough... whether you want to or not."

Her words left a heavy weight on Mark’s heart, but before he could say another word, the castle collapsed completely, and he was forced to make a hasty exit. Mark stood in the shadow of the ruins, still shaken by the mention of his old friends. "Terra... Aqua... Ventus..." he whispered again, as memories of his time with them flooded his mind. He had thought he’d lost them long ago, and yet now their names haunted him once more. Shaking his head, Mark pushed forward. He had more questions now than ever, and he needed answers.

*===============*
[ Mark Learned: Graviga✨ ]
*===============*

As the crumbling castle collapsed around them, Mark's eyes caught sight of Prince Phillip returning with Aurora, both of them seemingly unharmed. The darkness that had once surrounded them seemed to dissipate, leaving the couple standing in the dimming light of the collapsing world. Phillip’s armor was scratched and battered from the journey, but there was no sign of harm on Aurora. They both looked at Mark with gratitude in their eyes.

"Thank you," Prince Phillip said, his voice strong yet full of relief. "You saved us, Mark. We owe you more than we can express." Aurora smiled softly, her voice gentle as she added, "We are safe, thanks to you. We cannot thank you enough." Mark gave them a faint smile, his heart heavy with the weight of what was happening around him. As he looked at them, he could feel the last remnants of this world being consumed by the darkness. The air grew heavier, and the atmosphere shifted. There was something final about it.

"You're welcome," Mark said, his voice tired but sincere. "But I... I wish I could’ve stayed longer, helped more..." He let out a deep breath as the last Keyhole of the world began to appear before him. A swirling vortex of light and dark, marking the end of this world’s existence. He knew what had to be done. With a heavy heart, Mark stepped forward, his Keyblade glowing once more as he approached the Keyhole.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his hand outstretched toward the Keyhole. "But I have to seal it." He thrust his Keyblade forward, and a beam of light erupted, enveloping the Keyhole in pure energy. The ground rumbled, and the world seemed to shift around him as the seal took place. The last bit of light left the world, and it crumbled into nothingness, the final remnants fading into the void.

Mark staggered back as the Keyhole sealed completely, but before he could even catch his breath, he felt himself being pulled into the darkness. His body was tossed through the swirling abyss of the Realm of Darkness, the world around him distorting and shifting like shadows in a storm. His surroundings grew cold and disorienting, and he gritted his teeth as he fought to remain conscious.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of falling through the endless dark, Mark landed hard on the ground with a thud. His chest heaved as he struggled to stand, the weight of his actions and the journey weighing heavily on him. As he pushed himself up, his eyes landed on something on the ground beside him. It was a Keychain, glowing softly with a familiar, inviting light. He reached down, feeling the weight of it in his hand. The design was more intricate than the last one he had, and as he examined it, he could see that it was an upgraded form of the Awaking Spirit Keychain. It had a new, more vibrant energy to it, a symbol of strength gained through trial.

*===================*
[Mark obtained: Awaken Vital✨ ]
*===================*

Mark looked at the Keychain for a moment, feeling a strange warmth fill him. This Keychain was something different than just an upgrade. It felt like a reminder that despite the darkness he had faced, there was still a part of him that was alive, fighting, and growing. It was a testament to the journey, and the strength he had gained along the way. He held the Keychain tightly, his fingers running over its design, before placing it on his Keyblade. It felt like a step forward like he was becoming someone more than he had ever been. Mark let out a quiet sigh, his heart still heavy with the weight of his choices. But he couldn’t afford to dwell on it for long. 

Chapter 8: Mysterious Tower & Realm of Darkness

Aqua has just arrived at Mysterious tower, her face weary but determined, entered with Mickey in tow. She had found him unconscious in the vast space between worlds, a strange sense of dread weighing on her heart. She had flown him here, hoping Yen Sid would know what to do.

“Aqua!” Donald exclaimed, stepping forward. “You found Mickey! Is he okay?” “I don’t know,” Aqua replied, gently lowering Mickey onto a chair. “He’s been unconscious for a while. I don’t think it’s natural that something's wrong. I found him drifting, alone in the space between worlds. He couldn’t even respond to me when I tried calling out.” Goofy placed his hand on his chin, his eyes full of concern. “What could have done this to him?”

Yen Sid, who had been quietly observing, stepped forward. “I believe I know what has happened. But it may be more troubling than we can comprehend.” Aqua turned her attention to the master. “What do you mean, Master Yen Sid?” Yen Sid’s voice deepened with sorrow, his gaze solemn as he looked at Aqua. “Aqua, the truth about Terra is something we need to confront. It was not just his actions that have caused the instability across worlds, it was his fall to darkness.”

Aqua's eyes widened in disbelief. “No! Terra wouldn’t, he couldn’t have done that! Not after everything we went through together!” Yen Sid sighed, his tone filled with the weight of painful knowledge. “It is true, Aqua. Terra did not succumb to the darkness in the way we had hoped. In his final moments, he fought against it but in doing so, he struck down Master Eraqus.” Aqua’s breath caught in her throat, her hands trembling. “That’s... that’s not possible! Terra wouldn’t do that. He was my friend... my student! I believe in him!”

“I know,” Yen Sid replied quietly. “But the truth remains. Eraqus was defeated by Terra’s hand, and the balance of light and dark shifted because of it. The Keyblade Graveyard is where you must go, Aqua. It is there you will find the answers. Only Terra knows what truly happened, and only he can give you the truth you so desperately seek.” Aqua clenched her fists, her heart pounding with a mixture of anger, confusion, and desperation. “I won’t believe it. Not without hearing it from Terra. I’ll go to the Keyblade Graveyard myself and find him.”

Yen Sid nodded gravely, his eyes full of concern. “Be careful, Aqua. The darkness that consumes people is more than what it seems. And in the Keyblade Graveyard, there is a heavy price to pay for the truth.” “I know what I’m up against,” Aqua replied, her voice unwavering. “I’ll bring Terra back, no matter what it takes.” Donald stepped forward, a hand on Aqua’s shoulder. “Aqua... we’ll be here. We’ll help you, however we can.” Goofy nodded, his eyes filled with sincerity. “You’re not alone in this, Aqua. We’ll be ready whenever you need us.”

Aqua gave them both a brief but thankful smile. “I appreciate it, but this is something I have to do on my own.” With one last look at Mickey, still unconscious, Aqua turned to leave. Yen Sid’s voice called out to her just before she stepped into the portal. “Aqua, be safe. And remember to trust your heart. It will guide you.” Aqua nodded, her resolve stronger than ever, before stepping into the light and vanishing from the room.

As the portal closed behind her, Donald and Goofy exchanged glances. "Do you think she can find Terra?" Donald asked, his voice full of doubt. Goofy sighed. "She’s strong. But this... this is something we can’t even begin to understand." Master Yen Sid’s gaze lingered on the spot where Aqua had been, a solemn expression on his face. "Aqua must find her way, but the cost of this journey may be greater than any of us expect. May the light guide her... wherever it may lead."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Master Yen Sid quietly settled back into his chair, his hands folded neatly in front of him as he focused on the orb. His gaze never wavered, his thoughts heavy with concern for Aqua and the dangerous path she was about to walk. He had seen much in his years, but the burden of the Keyblade’s wielder was always different, always harder. The orb flickered in response, and as it did, the scene shifted once again. Mark, having just sealed the last Keyhole and feeling the weight of everything crashing down around him, had collapsed to the ground. His heart, once steadfast, was now splintering under the pressure of his doubts, his pain, and his overwhelming sense of loss.

He lay on the cold, unforgiving floor, the darkness around him pressing down, suffocating him. His Keyblade had dimmed, its glow no longer a source of hope, but of burden. A reminder of all the battles he had fought, and the pieces of himself that were slowly being chipped away with every passing moment. Tears welled up in his eyes as the weight of everything in the world, his journey, the loss of his wayfinder, his friends came crashing down. He let it all out, his breath catching in his throat as he allowed the emotion to overtake him. He had fought so hard, and yet, here he was, alone.

“I... I can’t do this anymore,” Mark muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. But as soon as the last of his emotions left him, something within him snapped. His tears dried up, replaced by a fire that had been kindling deep within him for far too long. He stood up, feeling the familiar burn of determination return to his chest. The Keyblade was his burden, but it was also his strength. No matter how dark the path seemed, he couldn’t give up not yet.

Just as Mark steadied himself, a chilling laugh echoed through the void, sending a shiver down his spine. “Well, well... What do we have here?” The voice was unmistakable, dripping with malice and mockery. “The little hero, teetering on the edge of despair.” Mark turned around, his heart pounding in his chest, his fists clenching at his sides. From the shadows emerged a figure, cloaked in a dark hood and a cold aura. Young Xehanort. His presence alone was enough to freeze the air, his eyes glowing with an unsettling yellow hue. “You’re pathetic,” Xehanort’s voice hissed, each word cutting through Mark like a blade. “All that potential... all that power... And yet, you falter. How utterly disappointing.”

Mark’s breath quickened, the rage bubbling up inside him. “Shut up,” he spat, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t know anything about me.” Young Xehanort smirked, taking a slow step forward. “Oh, I know more than you think. You’ve lost so much already, haven’t you? Your wayfinder... your friends...the king… and now, you’ve lost yourself. How long do you think you can hold on before it all crumbles away?” “Stop it! I won’t let your stupid words get the best of me!” Mark’s voice was strained, his mind and heart warring with each other. “I’m not like you!”

Young Xehanort’s smirk widened, his form now almost fully in view. “No, you’re not. You’re worse. At least I knew who I was. But you… poor, naive boy.. you’re lost. And it’s only a matter of time before that darkness you fight so hard to push away consumes you completely.” Mark’s eyes narrowed, his hands shaking with anger and desperation. His heart was pounding in his chest, his pulse like thunder in his ears. Xehanort’s words stung but something inside of Mark snapped, his resolve turning to a blazing fury.

“No!” Mark shouted, lifting his Keyblade. “I won’t let you win. I’m not like you!” Before Xehanort could even respond, Mark rushed forward, unleashing a series of furious strikes with his Keyblade. The air around him crackled with raw energy as he poured all his frustration and pain into each swing. His magic swirled around him like a storm, the ground beneath them trembling with the force of his attacks.

Xehanort didn’t move, his smile never fading, as if this was all some twisted game to him. With a wave of his hand, a dark wave of energy swirled around him, easily deflecting Mark’s strikes. “You fight with such blind rage,” Xehanort taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. “But it’s futile. Your heart seems to be already breaking, Mark. And when it breaks, so will you.”

Mark’s eyes blazed with anger. “I won’t fall for your tricks!” he yelled, gathering every ounce of his strength into one final strike. In an instant, he swung his Keyblade down with all the power he could muster. The force of the attack was so intense that it created a massive shockwave of energy that spread outward, tearing through the darkness. But as the light faded, Mark found himself on his knees, panting heavily, his energy drained. His vision swam as Xehanort’s voice rang out one final time.

“It’s already too late,” Xehanort whispered, his figure dissolving into the darkness. “You’re already lost, Mark. There’s no escaping it.” Mark staggered to his feet, fighting against the pull of exhaustion, his mind spinning from the encounter. “I’m not... lost,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Not yet.” But the shadows around him seemed to laugh in response, growing deeper and darker as the world itself seemed to crumble beneath his feet.

The darkness crackled around them as Mark and Young Xehanort clashed in a violent storm of magic and steel. Each strike of Mark’s Keyblade was met with a taunting laugh or a wave of dismissal from Xehanort. The older man’s voice echoed in the space between them, every word cutting into Mark's resolve.

“You think you can stop me?” Xehanort sneered, dodging another blow. “You’re nothing more than a child playing with powers beyond your comprehension. How long do you think you can keep up this charade?” Mark gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face as his strength began to wane. His limbs ached, his heart raced with the weight of doubt. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t let this monster win. Not after everything.

“I won’t give in to you,” Mark snapped, forcing himself to keep going. With a roar, he summoned all his remaining energy and unleashed a surge of power chains of light spiraling around him as his Keyblade flared with brilliance. The chains shot forward, wrapping around Young Xehanort, yanking him off his feet and slamming him into the crumbling ground.

Xehanort’s mocking expression faltered for a moment, but it quickly returned, twisted in amusement. “You’re still clinging to the illusion of strength, aren’t you? You’ll break before I do.” Mark, fueled by a combination of fury and desperation, continued to summon the chains, throwing Xehanort around like a ragdoll. His movements were wild but fueled by pure instinct, the darkness pushing him to go further, faster, harder. Every swing of his Keyblade and lash of the chains was aimed at breaking the villain before him.

As Xehanort struggled, trying to regain control of the fight, Mark’s body screamed with exhaustion. His muscles ached, and his vision blurred, but he refused to stop. He had come too far, fought too hard to give in now. With a final, explosive motion, Mark summoned the chains again this time, wrapping them around Xehanort’s body so tightly that the air seemed to vibrate with power. He lifted the villain off the ground, holding him in the air as Mark’s Keyblade glowed with an intense, blinding light. “I said... I won’t give in!” Mark shouted, his voice filled with a mix of pain and defiance.

The battle raged on, but as Mark began to push himself to his limits, the world around him started to fade, consumed by darkness. Meanwhile, back in Yen Sid’s tower, the scene was interrupted. A faint, flickering light sparked in the distance. Slowly, a figure began to stir. Mickey Mouse, unconscious in the space between worlds, groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. His head throbbed, but his eyes snapped open as he realized where he was.

“W-Where am I?” Mickey mumbled, rubbing his temples. His gaze wandered, and he saw Master Yen Sid standing at the orb, watching it intently. Donald and Goofy were nearby, their faces full of concern, but there was something else in the air. A tension. “M-Mickey!” Goofy exclaimed, rushing to his friend’s side. “Mickey!” Donald echoed, his voice frantic. “Thank goodness you’re okay!” Mickey slowly sat up, still disoriented, and blinked at the orb. It was flashing, showing a scene far away, one he recognized, a dark world filled with turmoil and destruction. “Mark…” Mickey whispered, his voice filled with worry. His heart clenched as he saw the scene unfold in the orb. “He’s fighting...”

Master Yen Sid’s voice was steady, yet tinged with sorrow. “Yes, Mickey. Mark is battling Young Xehanort. The darkness in him grows, but there is more at play. His Wayfinder is shattered... broken and colorless.” Yen Sid gestured toward the floor where Mark’s Wayfinder lay. Mickey's eyes widened. “His... Wayfinder...” Mickey whispered, his heart sinking. “But that was his... his connection, his guide...” He scrambled over to the broken charm and knelt down, carefully picking it up. The once-vibrant colors had dulled, now a faint, colorless shell. “Mark...” Yen Sid nodded solemnly. “The darkness is taking its toll on him, Mickey. He is fighting for his very soul.”

Mickey stood up, clenching the Wayfinder in his hand, his grip tightening around the broken charm. “We have to help him,” he said, determination building within him. “We can’t let him fall. We need to go to him!” But Yen Sid shook his head, his voice filled with quiet wisdom. “It is not a battle we can intervene in directly. Mark must find his own path... but he is not alone. Watch the orb, Mickey. You will see his journey unfold.” As the orb flickered again, the image shifted back to Mark’s battle with Young Xehanort.

The scene cut back to the fight as Mark, barely able to stay on his feet, was facing Xehanort in a desperate last stand. His strength was fading. His grip on his Keyblade was loosening, and the chains around Xehanort were starting to weaken. “You think you can defeat me?” Xehanort taunted, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re nothing more than a speck of light in an endless sea of darkness. You’ll fall, just like all the others.” But Mark’s eyes flared with determination. “I’m not... like you!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the despair. “I’ll never be like you!”

And with that final cry, Mark’s Keyblade erupted with a dark green glow, his strength surging in one final burst. He broke free of the darkness holding him down and, with every ounce of energy left in his body, delivered one last strike. The chains of light wrapped around Young Xehanort, constricting, twisting, and pulling him into the void. Xehanort let out a strangled cry as he was consumed by the light and darkness, his figure disintegrating into the swirling chaos of the realm. The ground beneath them cracked, and the world began to shake. But even as victory was achieved, Mark could feel himself slipping. His body trembled as exhaustion took over, and he collapsed to the ground.

But even as victory was achieved, Mark could feel himself slipping. His body trembled as exhaustion took over, and he collapsed to the ground. The orb in Yen Sid’s chamber glowed brighter, showing Mark’s broken Wayfinder lying on the floor of the dark world, colorless and shattered. Back in the realm of darkness, Mark’s hand reached out, his heart heavy with the weight of everything. The last remnants of his strength faltered, and he whispered one final word before darkness overtook him. “...I’m sorry…” And with that, the orb in Yen Sid’s tower flickered, its light dimming as Mark’s fate hung in the balance.

As Mark fell into the endless Darkness, his body weightless, his vision blurred, and the sound of the world disappearing around him, he felt a crushing emptiness deep in his chest. His Keyblade, once a symbol of his strength and purpose, began to glow ominously. Its brilliance flickered and waned, cracks spreading across the weapon's surface like the fractures of his resolve. His hand tightened around the hilt, but it was no use. The cracks spread rapidly until, with a final flash of light, his Keyblade shattered into pieces, the fragments scattering into the abyss.

The pieces of his Keyblade disappeared into the endless void, swallowed by the Darkness that claimed him. The pain was overwhelming, but it was soon replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence. Mark’s heart, heavy with the weight of his choices, the weight of all he had lost, sank deeper into despair. Back in the Mysterious Tower, Master Yen Sid stood in front of the orb, watching Mark's fall. His face was impassive, but there was a shadow of sorrow in his eyes. He slowly took Mark’s shattered Wayfinder and placed it gently onto the table, the broken charm now a stark reminder of the sacrifice that had been made. The colors of the Wayfinder had completely faded, leaving it cold and lifeless. Yen Sid’s fingers lingered over it for a moment before he turned and walked away, his steps heavy with the knowledge of what was to come.

Behind him, Mickey stood in silence, his eyes glued to the orb as the scene faded to darkness. His heart was torn in two as he watched Mark’s journey come to its heartbreaking end. With a deep breath, he stepped forward and gently picked up the broken Wayfinder from the table. His fingers traced the faint outline of the charm, but it felt so different now. The light that had once been there was gone. Mickey’s grip tightened around the Wayfinder, and without saying a word, he summoned his Keyblade: Star Seeker, its familiar glow lighting up the room with the spark of determination. He knew what he had to do.

With the Wayfinder still in his hand, Mickey turned toward the door, his heart set on one final mission. The world had lost a hero, but there was still hope. The journey wasn’t over. “Mark… I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain,” Mickey murmured to himself as he walked out of the tower, the Keyblade in his hand and the weight of the world on his shoulders. His path was clear: the Keyblade Graveyard. The place where everything would come to a head, where the final answers might be found. He was determined to uncover the truth, no matter the cost.

As Mickey stepped out into the light, the scene shifted. The swirling winds of the Keyblade Graveyard greeted him, a desolate wasteland of shifting sands and shattered stones. The sky above was dark, torn with cracks of lightning as if the world itself was on the brink of collapsing. And yet, amidst the chaos, Mickey felt something stirring within him something fierce and unyielding. It was a sign. The story of Mark, and the choices made, had only just begun. But this chapter, this dark moment, was over. And so, the journey continued. The screen fades to black as Mickey walks into the distance, heading toward the Keyblade Graveyard.