Untitled [Created by Cin and Roxas]

I'm pulling the plug on KHVR2.

Here's a new story from me and Cin. The most amazing fnafiction ever.

It ties into both KHVR and KH. Enjoy:

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0. Wild Seven​

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The clock struck noon on an early New York morning. Traffic was already in full flow, cars honking their horns, businessmen carrying suitcases walking with gallant strides while talking on their cell-phones, the smell of exotic food coming from the insides of shops, people buying their afternoon Starbucks coffee. Many New Yorkers were in full swing, but for Mr. Heath this was not the case.

“Do you think you could go even the littlest bit faster?†he asked the taxi driver in front. Residue of sleep was still in his eyes; he had rolled out of bed, crawled to grab a cigar, pulled on his work clothes and walked out the door at 11:30 A.M. Work started at 7:00 A.M. sharp.
“I try, but you see, man with fish trolley be slow,†said the Mexican driver in front. A Chinese man was struggling to push a wooden cart loaded with fish across the road. The wheel had found itself an undesired location - a hole - and the man was trying to pry it free while car upon car blasted their horns at him. Mr. Heath just sighed, his gray head turning to look out the window. He looked at the laughing children running down the sidewalk, the tourists excitedly chatting about their next destination. Most people had not forgotten what had happened in year of 2006, or the six other recurring nightmares afterward, but most tried to ignore it, telling themselves that their children would always be safe.
His eyes continued to scan the crowds on the streets, looking for the one recognizable face he had been searching for for the past four years. His daughter, Sara, was nowhere in site, but she had risen to the number one Most Wanted criminal in the United States after not being found for over 3 years since the ‘incident.’ Her criminal offence: murder, civil unrest, you name it - if it existed, the United States government tried to pin it on her.
Terrorist attack in another remote country? Sara. A plane crashes without warning while making a short flight? Sara. She had become the new Bin Laden; blamed for every bombing or civil war that occurred around the world whether she was a part of it or not. Part of Mr. Heath wanted to believe that his daughter had nothing to do with this, but another part of him did. This other part hoped she was alive; living her life, and one day she would meet up with him again. He hoped that she would somehow find herself free of all criminal charges against her, and come back in live with him in his apartment building in Queens. Mr. Heath was lucky enough that barely anyone knew he had relations with her. His thoughts were interrupted when the taxi driver spoke:
“I think I know shortcut. We take?â€
“Oh, go ahead,†mumbled Mr. Heath. He was late for work as it was, so another half hour or so wouldn’t be too bad. Taxi drivers were always taking what they called ‘short-cuts,’ and if they worked out then they were usually good. If not, well, you better find yourself another job. His work schedule was currently untarnished, and seeming as this was his first offense it wouldn’t matter in the slightest if he was late just one day.
“Get ready, this ride not be smooth,†said the Mexican, and he hit the gas, turning onto a side street.
“What are you doing!?†screamed Mr. Heath, frantically grabbing onto the seat in front of him. Brick buildings, dumpsters, trash cans, hobos, all whizzed by in a blur as the crazy driver sped down the side road.
“Do not worry, sir, I am expert driver. Plus, you even tell Jorje that he allowed to take shortcut. Just sit back, relax, and breathe,†replied the driver.
Mr. Heath begged to differ.
The car emerged onto a main street, and the Mexican stomped on the gas pedal, turning the wheel and skidding to a halt in front of a large building. It was World Trade Center No. 5, from where Mr. Heath had seen the Twin Towers collapse just 9 years previously. Now, where the two Twin Towers had once stood, was Freedom Tower, the tallest building in New York; built to commemorate those who lost their lives in the 9/11 attacks. America’s economy had boosted since it had been built, and Mr. Heath had a perfect birds-eye view of the tower from where he sat in his 87th story office in WTC 5.
“Here you are,†said the Mexican, “Twenty dollar please.â€
“Twenty dollars!?†Mr. Heath complained incredulously. He threw a five dollar bill at the driver and bolted from the car.
“You suck!†said the Mexican man, throwing his five dollar bill into a pile of twenties. With a disgusted look he drove off to find more customers.
Mr. Heath emerged into the lobby of No. 5, a brilliant high structure with glass walls and a domed ceiling. Elevators were to the right and left, and in front of him the gold information desk. He’d been chatting up the lady at the desk there the morning before, so he casually approached her and tightened his tie.
“Hello,†he said, trying to put on a big man’s approach.
“Hello, Mr. Heath, I see you’re on time,†said the lady sarcastically. Her tone was not arrogant, but friendlier. “Well, I’ve got a bit of news; all our offices were moved to the top floor of Freedom Tower.â€
“What!?†interrupted Mr. Heath. Today was not his day.
“Yeah, it was an unexpected move, but it’s happened. We’re on the floor directly under the tourist area. They won’t bother us, though,†she explained. Mr. Heath sighed and put his hand to his mouth.
“Well,†he began, “I guess there’s nothing I can do about it.†He grabbed up his suitcase and walked outside. The sun was halfway through the sky, but due to his 11:30 wake up his body lapsed him into feeling it was only 9 or 10 o’clock. “Ludicrous, just ludicrous…†he muttered looking up into the sky at the top of Freedom Tower. From his angle, he could see the tower moving right and left in the wind. A few clouds littered the sky, but it was nowhere near overcast as he took the flight of steps into Freedom Tower. He’d been here before a few times, so the elaborate lobby was no stranger to him. He went hurriedly to the elevator, steeping inside and hitting the top floor button. The elevator was a glazed oak brown, with gold handlebars and mirrors lining each side. A Japanese woman stood to his side, dressed in colorful robes, and she began talking to him in a heavy accent:
“My husband, he tells me he loves me, but I say no, you ruin my life, why you make me pregnant you man.†5th floor.
“Then he say I will make it up to you by buying you nice dress. I say that be nice, just make it colorful. So he go right on and buy me gray dress. What man!†11th floor.
“So I tell him, if he want inside of me at sleep time, then he must buy me colorful dress. So now he done it, and now I wear it.†19th floor. Mr. Heath shifted uncomfortably, trying to give the lady the impression that he didn’t care what she was saying but also didn’t want to be rude about it. Unfortunately, the clueless Japanese lady didn’t get the message and continued her unorthodox rant.
“But I still not let him inside me. My vagine is a sacred pasture of growing spaghetti noodles. He dare not touch.â€
Ding-ding!
The elevator door opened, and the woman left without a bye. Mr. Heath stifled a laugh, and continued up to the top floor on his own. The doors clanged open and he stepped outside to see himself on a floor covered with windows. He took a step forward and heard an angry voice coming in his direction.
“Where the hell have you been!?â€
His boss, Mr. Kansman, charged up to him. He had a grim look on his face.
“Why were you late!?†he shouted.
“The traffic was awful,†said Mr. Heath.
“Oh, don’t give me that!†complained Mr. Kansman, “Lemme guess; your alarm broke, you woke up late, yadda yadda yadda. It’s always the same excuse with everyone!â€
“Actually, I had a dream about my daughter,†lied Mr. Heath. Mr. Kansman instantly looked taken aback. Mr. Heath’s words had hit him like a brick wall.
“I-I’m sorry,†said Mr. Kansman, backing away. “Your desk is over there…†He put his head down and walked away.
Sara was always an excuse to get out of trouble, especially when he needed it. He didn’t feel very guilty about it; it was just something he had become accustomed to doing. It wasn’t just an excuse, though; just thinking about her made him cringe. He’d lost someone who he was sure was still alive. Not only that, but six other “games†as they called them, had been held. Possibly more than six other people out there were going through what he had been going through for the past nine years. It was hell. Every waking moment was ‘is that Sara?’ He’d walk down to the chippy to get the newspaper and he’d see her on the front page. She was a part of his life now more than she had ever been before and he hadn’t seen her for four years. Arc, her boyfriend, was dead, and it was unknown whether Sara had killed her in the end or Arc had committed suicide. Only the deaths of the students and the name of the winner were given out after the battle, and each subsequent ‘Royale’ (as the government called it) followed this pattern.
“Heath, can you do me a favor?†asked a man in a white dress shirt and black pants. It was Donnington, Heath’s best friend since moving to New York.
“Of course. What shall it be?†replied Mr. Heath, who was always willing to give in to a favor for a friend, whether it meant finding a girl’s phone number or doing a friend’s laundry.
“Look,†started Donnington, “Kansman’s watching my every move on this one report I have to type up. Do you think you could do it for me?â€
“And where will you be going?†inquired Mr. Heath.
“Eh… just out,†replied Donnington sincerely. “To be honest, I can’t tell you. Who knows what torturous schemes Kansman could pull out of his pocket if he wanted info from any of his workers. And you know I mean you when I say that. He could learn that you know that I’m gone, and then lock you up in a chai- well, I doubt he’ll really go that far.â€
“Amen to that,†laughed Mr. Heath, “just leave me the papers and I’ll get it done.â€
With a small thank you, Donnington left the written papers on Mr. Heath’s desk and wandered off.
The move to Freedom Tower had been quite smooth; it was as if they had literally picked up Mr. Heath’s desk and set it down up on the top floor of the tower. Everything was in the right place, everything was organized and clean. The picture of him and Sara that he kept framed on the corner of his desk was still there. No one else but him knew this, but tucked behind the picture inside of the frame was Sara’s last letter to him before she was sent into the Royale. Mr. Heath grabbed the frame and pulled out the letter, smoothing it out with the palm of his hand.
Dear Dad,
Just arrived in California. Arc and I are staying in a hotel with a bunch of other members of the forum. We haven’t done much, but driving to the hotel was breathtaking. Yes, yes, I did get to see the giant Hollywood sign, but we’re not staying in that area of LA. I’ve sent you some pictures that Arc took out of the plane windows. I’ll be sending this letter and the going to the first huge banquet we’re going to have. I can’t wait to meet the other members!
Much Love,
Sara
Mr. Heath buried his head in his hands and began to cry. He couldn’t read the letter without bursting into tears. His baby was gone, his wife was dead, and his family was gone. Every day was a struggle without Sara, and almost every day he would get out the letter and read it and cry. The tears began to stop and he looked at the papers Donnington had placed in front of him. The report wasn’t too long, 20 minutes of typing tops.
He began to type up the report for Donnington when he was swept with the sudden urge to get up and get a cup of coffee. Pushing back his seat, he went up to a random lady and asked her where the lounge was. She pointed him in what he hoped was the right direction, so he went that way.
The coffee lounge wasn’t too small, and contained a large TV set on the wall and a few couches. There was a nice beige carpet on the floor, and everything seemed homely compared to the metallic interior of the working space. Other members of the faculty whose names Mr. Heath did not know sat around with coffee in their hands. They were talking about politics and the latest episode of the View; topics which greatly bored Mr. Heath. Especially talking about the View, but that was beside the point. Mr. Heath gathered himself some coffee beans and began making a decaf coffee. It didn’t take too much time, and before long he was sitting with the other staff members and chatting about daily routine. The news was on the television, and the latest stock changes flashed across the bottom of the screen. A woman, one of many New York news-anchors, was perched in a chair, her makeup shining on the camera lens and her head moving with exaggerated flow to go with her confident voice. She was talking about the latest in crime, including a school stabbing in Queens. The daily report was simply a noon run-through of all the latest updates from the night before.
“And we now bring-â€
The television went black. Not the type of “the TV is off†black, but just as if the program had stopped. A burly old man attempted to turn the TV on, but it was already on; he only succeeded in turning it off. When he turned it on again, the screen was completely black. Mr. Heath peered round to see that every computer screen on the top floor had turned to static. Various engineers were attempting to fix the problem, but to no avail.
“This doesn’t seem good at all!†said a large woman, taking a massive gulp of her coffee.
“Oh, no,†agreed another woman, her perfectly combed blonde hair swinging wildly, “I do wonder what is going on.â€
All around the world, computer monitors and television screens went black or turned to static. In Times Square people who had been moving to and fro stopped to see what was going on. The usual NASDAQ television had turned to static, and radios had gone silent.
Without notice the screen crackled, and just for a second what looked like a group of people could be seen. As soon as they were on the screen, they were gone again. This appeared on every television screen around the world, and TVs and computer monitors went back to black or a static mess.
“What’s this!?†Mr. Kansman shouted, running into the room. Everyone just looked at him and then turned their attention back to the TV.
It flickered again, and then came into focus. Seven people stood in a line, looking towards the ground. One, in particular, a girl with long blonde hair, stood in the middle. All of them were holding machine guns. The girl slowly raised her head and looked at the camera. People in Cambodia, Belize, Colorado, and India - anywhere that there was a television or computer screen - were watching the seven people stand in front of the camera, and the girl raise her head.
The girl looked at the camera, her face covered in dirt. A red bandana went around her forehead. The others behind her cocked their weapons. Their faces were hidden, but their eyes still peered at the camera.
“It has been four years since I escaped that island,†she said. “Victims of the Royale continue to increase, and these terrorist attacks, my friends, are indeed my doing. Our war has now become totally unstoppable.†The girl in the middle cocked her gun.
“And the dice was rolled. We… we cannot forgive the adults who made us kill each other. Let us get together, and let us fight together. We, from this time on…â€
The girl paused.
“We declare war against all adults.â€
“Oh my god!†screamed a woman, pointing out the window. A massive fiery object was heading straight for the Empire State Building.
“What the hell is that?†exclaimed a man. “Is that a-â€
Every single window on every single building shattered as the giant missile crashed into the Empire State Building. A massive fire ball erupted from the side, and the tower tilted to the side. A sonic boom shot throughout the city, and glass shards flew in all directions. Air was sucked out of the side of the building, and the people closest to the windows were sucked out into the void beyond.
“Help me!†screamed Mr. Kansman, who was unlucky enough to be standing next to the windows as this happened. His body flew toward the edge of the building, gathering speed as he neared the edge. “Somebody, do som-!†Mr. Kansman’s words were stopped short as he was impaled on a massive piece of glass. Blood exploded from his chest as the glass pierced his whole body. His eyes rolled back into his head and his body went limp.
The office erupted into chaos. Outside, the Empire State Building was falling to the side. The top half of it, charred ruins, crashed to the ground. Mr. Heath felt the floor shake under his feet, and he fell to the ground. People all around him were running for the stairs. Everyone on the top floor piled into the stairwell as he heard their screams.
Mr. Heath, on the other hand, lay there in ecstasy. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and a smile was plastered across his face.
“She’s alive…†he laughed. “SARA’S ALIVE!â€
He had recognized his daughter instantly on the video, and had been shell-shocked from the very beginning. He sat in the couch, looking out at New York as the air turned freezing cold and employees rushed to the staircase.
“Heath! We gotta get out of here, Heath!â€
Mr. Heath turned to see Donnington beckoning him towards the staircase. He snapped out of his own world and realized he was sitting on the top floor of Freedom Tower; which in this case had no walls.
“I-I’m coming,†said Mr. Heath. He ran to his desk and grabbed the picture of him and Sara, ripping out the photo and letter. “Let’s go,†he said to Mr. Donnington.
“Let’s be qu- holy ****!â€
Mr. Heath turned to see Donnington pointing at the Empire State Building. Behind it was another missile, heading straight for the ground. The missile connected, and a massive explosion erupted from the hub of the Rockefeller Center. The floor under Donnington and Mr. Heath’s feet shook violently. They both fell to the floor and watched as a massive inferno erupted behind a burning symbol of hope. Both the Rockefeller Center and Empire State Building had been destroyed by missiles.
“It’s probably not the last,†said Donnington. “We better get out of here fast.†It occurred to Mr. Heath that Freedom Tower would indeed be a target of these horrible attacks. They ran to the stairwell but were stopped short by a beautiful yet fatal sight.
A fiery orange glow was heading straight for them. It was distant, but the two instantly knew what it was; a missile. They were the only two on the top floor.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,†said Donnington, exhausted. The two charged into the stairwell and down the steps. Mr. Heath counted the numbers of floors as they went down.
“Only 50 more to go!†screamed Donnington after the duo had been running for at least ten minutes.
“I don’t think we’re going to make it!†screamed Mr. Heath. An explosion rocked the walls around them, and the two went sprawling to the bottom of the stairwell they were in. Heat captured every pore of the air, and metal and rock started falling from the ceiling.
“The missile!†screamed Mr. Heath. “It must have hit the building!â€
“Let’s run, we can make it!†urged Donnington. They ran down the flight of steps, the ceiling crumbling above them. They dodged rock and metal, charging for the bottom of the building with a simple-minded goal: get the hell out. Mr. Heath counted the floors on the way down, 25, 22, 18, 12, 7, 3.
“We’re gonna make it!†screamed Donnington. The two broke free of the stairs and found themselves in the lobby of the giant building. Fire trucks rushed by outside.
“You two!â€
Mr. Heath saw a fireman beckoning them from outside. “You two, get out of there!†he screamed.
They charged for the exit. Mr. Heath felt smoke filter into his nostrils. Fire roared around them, melting the air.
“The tower’s falling!â€
Mr. Heath heard an enormous roar. Stone began falling all around him. The fireman outside ran away from the tower. Fire trucks and police cars drove away. Women and men screamed and ran down the roads. The ominous roar grew closer and closer.
“Donnington!?†Mr. Heath screamed, trying to find the man. On the floor, not 5 yards away, was the body of Donnington, his skull crushed in by a falling rock. Gray jelly oozed from his head, bones protruding from his scalp at various angles. A pool of blood grew slowly bigger around his body.
“No!†cried Mr. Heath. “Donnington!â€
The roar was seconds away. Mr. Heath looked up to see the ceiling above him crack open. He opened his right hand to see the letter from Sara. It was covered in blood stains from his own hands; most likely his nails digging into his palms.
Much Love,
Sara
“Ha,†laughed Mr. Heath. “I never thought that my own daughter, the one I’ve been looking for for so long, would be the one that killed me.â€
Rock and stone, metal, charred remains of debris and wood exploded out of the ceiling.
“I guess…â€
Mr. Heath looked at the letter.
“I’m glad I got to see her one more time.â€

Much Love,
Sara​

1. Death of A Universe​

Torin attempted to take a deep breath, counting backward from 10. She had to just calm herself down and she’d live to fight another day.
“10…â€
The rhythmic sound of her motorcycle hummed beneath her as the wind blew her blond hair about wildly. It was hard to breathe; not only because of the dust in the air but because of the speed she was going. Every time she tried to take a breath, the air was whipped behind her.
“9…â€
Torin checked the gas gauge in front of her; it was full, just like it had been only 30 seconds before. She was so nervous that she’d run out of gas that she couldn’t help but check it over and over again, thinking it’d be different and the motorcycle would stop. Even if it did, the razor-sharp sword she had at her hip and the powerful guns on her waist could protect her.
“8…â€
She checked her speed: 200 mph. ‘Jesus. Torin, pick up the speed a little,’ she thought. She guessed she was just trying to prolong the tiny bit of calm riding she had left.
“7…â€
She adjusted the strap on her left shoulder. It had been loose and bothering her all day. Now the armor was tighter, and she felt more protected. Her armor, Rolex, was the best to date. Even with the latest and greatest duds, she felt that her 17 years had still not prepared her for this.
“6…â€
The sun glinted off one of the giant machine towers around her. She looked away and lost control of the motorcycle for a second.
“5…â€
As she straightened out the motorcycle and regained her composure, she looked around. The charred and barren wasteland around her was a certainly dismal place. Sand, dust, and giant mechanic towers continued on in a yellow expanse that seemed to consume her. She knew these were the ruins of an ancient city; New York if she remembered correctly. The mechanical structures were for extracting water from the Earth. After the Resistance bombed NYC, the ocean receded and dried up. Although no one lived here, the structures were still active, simply because it was one of the few places left on Earth where you could find water. The water was, of course, underground, and Torin would pass the occasional water spout as she sped along on her motorcycle, Fenrir.
“4…â€
Torin checked the plasma blasters she had on the front of her bike. Still full as usual, but then again, in this weather they would never run out. The blasters were solar powered, and the sun was the brightest she’d ever seen it. This did have its ups and downs, causing the air to get so hot that Torin felt as if she was going to melt.
“3…â€
Rorik rode up behind her, joining her at her side. The two shared a quick glance, and in that quick glance made a pact that they’d make it through today alive. A few more people on motorcycles rode up beside them; each dressed with exactly the same weapons as Torin. Each had their own bikes, named individually by the rider. As they rode on through the ancient city, hundreds more warriors rode up beside Torin, until the sound of an army ten-thousand motorcycles strong ran through the city. The scene was overwhelming as Torin was now surrounded by comrades; men, women, generals, captains, and every living private of the Proles army.
“2…â€
The ten-thousand men and women rode together today, their hearts and minds connected by one single goal. Their faith in each other was strong, and their will unbreakable.
She looked ahead of her; the “President†as they called him, George Bush VI led them today. He unsheathed his blade, and together, every warrior on the battlefield followed him. He raised it high above his head, letting out a long and dramatic battle cry. Although the motorcycles muffled his voice his army joined in the song of war, and the battle cry became a valiant expression of their bravery.
“1…â€
Torin was ready now. She could handle anything the world threw at her, and she was strong and she had the strength of her friends.
A blast flew past her head and singed her hair. She was temporarily stunned as the two armies collided and nearly 15,000 people began a battle to the death.
Torin regained her confidence and threw herself into the fray, blasting this way and that. She blasted every enemy she could find.
She turned left and right, spinning in circles and dodging blasts that could take a chunk out of her nearly 5 inches in size. Torin found it easier to take on one or two enemies at a time, and riding away from the mass of people she could usually find a straggler out in the back to tango with. She rode through the maze of buildings and water rigs, finding plenty of enemies to fight.
Torin rounded a corner and nearly ran straight into two enemies. Thinking quickly, she let go of the handle bars and took out her guns. She spun them stylishly and shot both of her enemies through the skulls before they could retaliate. She came to a four-way intersection and found that there were at least two enemies going off in each direction. She skidded and stopped, two more enemies coming up from the direction she had come from.
The enemies laughed, thinking this would be easy, but Torin was happy to prove them wrong. She kept her guns out, getting off her motorcycle and standing ready. The tension in the air was felt by all, until one of the braver enemies starting riding towards her, blasting at her with all he had. The others followed suit, converging in on her. She dodged most of the shots, sniping others out of mid air with her guns. They thrust themselves at her from all sides, but she twirled and shot them down.
As the eight enemies all came within range of each other they stopped firing and took out their swords. They increased the speed of their bikes, charging at her relentlessly.
The first one came and she spun out of the way, hitting him in the back of the head with her gun. He lost control and ran straight into another enemy, their bikes exploding on impact.
Two more enemies came at her; she shot the first and ducked under the sword of the second. The second one immediately whipped around, skidding and driving back at her as a third one joined him. The first one, who was now unconscious, ran straight into one of the buildings. The stored up power from his plasma blasters created a massive explosion that nearly destroyed the bottom of the building. All those that were there looked up at the building to see it begin to tilt a bit towards the intersection.
Torin used to opportunity to shoot the second off its bike and have it collide with the third.
The remaining three enemies attempted to escape, but she got to them first. Torin got on her bike and rode towards a fleeing enemy. She jumped off at the last second as the bikes collided and killed the enemy. She front-flipped over the explosion, taking out her gun and sniping yet another nuisance. She landed on the bike of the third, kicking it in the face and knocking it off the bike. Torin sat down in the seat and found it to be much like her own motorcycle. She took control and drove off again before the building fell.
She heard a huge explosion. She looked back and found a cloud of fire, dust, and debris following her quickly. The blast was gaining on her, and she kicked the cycle up to 300 mph and sped out of the area to safety. Torin put her guns back in their holsters and unsheathed her blade, steering one handed. She saw the mass of enemies and allies coming up ahead, and she needed to be prepared.
Torin rode back into the mass of explosions, gunshots, and swords, and found herself cutting down each enemy in her way. There was mass hysteria as more buildings fell, water rigs exploded, and allies died. No one was quite sure what was going on anymore; all they knew was that they had to keep fighting.
She drove through the mass, decapitating an enemy, then changing direction and killing more. She noticed that she was drenched in blood and soot, barely noticeable to her enemies and comrades alike.
Suddenly she remembered Rorik. ‘What’s he up to?’ she wondered. Torin came to a halt in the middle of the battlefield, sniping anyone that came at her while surveying the battlefield for her closest ally. It was hard work finding one person amidst the chaos. Her vision was filled with the clashing of swords and shooting of guns. Eventually, however, she found him. He was going mono-a-mono against an enemy in the shadow of a building on the other side of the mass of fighters. Presumably his bike had been lost, as had his enemy’s, because they were both fighting hand to hand with their blades and guns.
Torin rode her bike through the crowd, straight towards him, hacking up her enemies as she went. She was stopped twice by wounded enemies, both clawing at her feet and asking for help and mercy. She kicked then off the bike before finishing them off with the bottom of her boot.
She eventually broke free of the crowd, flying out into the open and finding Rorik about to be killed by the enemy. Rorik lay on his back, the enemy’s blade at his neck. He looked scared, but when he noticed Torin a new flame came forth in his eyes and he smiled. He looked back at the enemy and glared, saying something foul (Torin couldn’t hear exactly what he said). The enemy held up its blade in anger, swinging down to kill Rorik. Without warning, Torin rode down the enemy first, flattening it completely. She came to a halt and got off her bike, holding out a hand to help Rorik up.
He grasped it welcomingly and began to thank her.
“Heh, thanks about that. He probably would have slaughtered me if not for you.â€
“I saw you provoke him after you noticed me. You could have taken him easily…†Torin replied.
“Yup, but this was a lot more fun. I mean, almost being killed really got the adrenaline pumping,†Rorik smiled a toothy and childish grin.
“Yeah, well don’t do it again. We need each other if we’re gonna make it through the day.â€
“Right, whatever.â€
“This isn’t a game Rorik!â€
“Yeah, we have to ‘Destroy the resisting bastards who killed our brothers and sisters, and who followed the Demon Sara in her attempt at world domination…’ right?â€
“Right, these evil, well, things cannot be allowed to live.â€
“You’ve become really dark lately, you know that?â€
“Or maybe I’ve just matured lately. We could die any day now; the resistance and the Proles are evenly matched. After 100 years of fighting, the Proles need to take the resistance more seriously, because they are a threat now. I know you’re only 16, but you could at least try being less childish about everything.†Torin got back on her bike and re-sheathed her sword.
“A simple ‘you’re welcome, Rorik†would have sufficed,†Rorik mumbled, putting his hands behind his head.
“Are you getting on the bike or not?†Torin yelled. Rorik responded with a mumbled “whatever†and got on. He took out his guns and the two drove back into the crowd.
With Torin’s masterful driving and Rorik’s guns flaring, they became a tough combo to defeat. More then a score of enemies fell to their powerful combination. The friends fought well till a stray blast nicked Rorik in the right shoulder. He cried out in pain and Torin grimaced, running right over the enemy who had shot Rorik. She retreated behind a building, prepping to treat Rorik’s wound. She had to treat the wound or Rorik would be done for.
Torin pressed a button on her belt and bandages and Neosporin popped out of a small bag on her side. She took out a bottle of water from her bike and poured it on the wound. After putting the Neosporin on, she applied pressure to the cut and began wrapping the bandages around Rorik’s shoulder. It wasn’t till halfway through bandaging him up that she realized the humor in the fact that after almost 150 years of human tech development, Neosporin was still as common as losing the TV remote.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city a woman stood viewing the bloody battle from the ruins of a long lost skyscraper. Pika, leader of the resistance, and great great granddaughter of Sara had her hand at her hip, waiting and dreading to use what was strapped to it.
Sara, leader of the Wild Seven, had declared war on the adults of the world nearly 100 years ago. In fact, today was the anniversary of the day she had wiped New York off the map. Although Sara had died not one year into her campaign, she had discovered after the Royale (as it was called in textbooks) that she was pregnant.
The Wild Seven grew and grew; more and more people joining them rather than being destroyed by them. Eventually the Wild Seven became the 2nd largest army in the world. All the countries of the world saw this massive threat and banded together to become one giant super-country named Prolesia. Prolesia and the resistance fought for nearly 100 years until the leader of the resistance died. Pika knew full well that her and her heritage had been working on something for nearly ten years; almost one third of her life. She came forth as the great great granddaughter of Sara, and the resistance made her the leader. So far, they had done okay. But today, it seemed as though the resistance was going to lose.
The war had taken many lives, and at this point there were only 15,000 humans left. Five-thousand numbered in the resistance, whiles ten-thousand Proles continued to fight on. This would be the final battle; the resistance had to win; if only to avenge those who had died in the Royales. The resistance had to avenge their comrades and to make Sara’s dream a reality. Pika watched on as members of the resistance were cut down.
Pika took the little remote from her hip, and held it up to her face.
“The bomb is armed and ready to go Pika!†yelled Pika’s right-hand-man from beside her.
The resistance was losing badly, and at this point, the only way to defeat the Proles was with the bomb. If the resistance was going to lose, they might as well drag the Proles down with them.
The Dark Matter Bomb (DMB) was an amazing explosive. The DMB was created from three inches of spherical dark matter, the heaviest and densest matter in the universe. One cubic millimeter of it weighed more than a sun. They had to keep it in an anti-gravity chamber to transport it from location to location. Dropping it from this height would create a massive crater, the size of the moon, not to mention crushing every atom for 20,000 miles. The following atomic explosion would destroy the entire planet, and spread for light years throughout the universe. Their sun and every sun after it for 1,000 million light years would explode, creating more then 500 black holes. The universe would be sucked into them and literally destroyed.
Pika was crazy to think of it, and her comrades were often afraid of her. However, she wasn’t crazy to make the DMB. The universe was going to be destroyed today, one way or another; so let it be by her own hands.
“General Pika…?†the 2nd in command questioned.
“Drop the bomb.â€

Torin and Rorik were just about to rush back into battle when they noticed it; a black chunk of something, falling from a building above the massive crowd of people. Rorik used the binoculars from his belt to see what it was.
“It looks like…uh, like a black ball,†Rorik reported.
“A bomb maybe?†Torin suggested while attempting to figure out the situation.
“No, it’s too small for that.â€
“Though if it’s a mecha grenade, everyone in that crowd will be killed.â€
Torin grabbed Rorik by his good arm and starting running away from the crowd.
“Whether it’s a bomb, a mecha grenade, or vulture poop, we still need to get out of here!â€

Time seemed to elongate as Pika watched the bomb drop. The ball of dark matter circled as it fell, hypnotizing Pika. Her life flashed before her eyes, and in the bomb she could see all those who she had known that died because of the war. Not only that, but she could see the face of each and ever person she was about to destroy.
“What have I done?†she asked herself.
“I don’t wan to die. Even for the cause of my ancestors, there has to be another way. There has to be a way I can save myself!â€

She fell to her knees as if to pray, still staring directly at the bomb as it fell.
“There has to be a way… please, I’ll do anything!â€
Suddenly, she heard a voice in her head, like she had many times before. But this one was different.
“How far would you go to save yourself?â€
She answered the voice in her mind, knowing it wasn’t real, but finding comfort in the fact that she would not truly die alone.
“I’d do anything…anything. I don’t wan to die like this.â€
“But you have devoted your entire life to this; surely this is accomplishing your dream?â€
“It is, but I was hoping we could defeat the Proles and then live freely again. Sara wouldn’t have wanted this.â€
“Then listen to me carefully, Pika. Open your heart to the darkness.â€
“Wh-what? What’s that supposed to mean!?â€
“Let the darkness in, and it will save you.â€
“Do you speak the truth?â€
“You poor girl; why would I lie to myself?â€
Pika realized the irony, and her own hypocrisy, but no matter how hard she tried she could not shake the fear of death. Her eyes were still fixed on the bomb, but she couldn’t take it anymore.
She closed her eyes, and opened her heart…

Torin and Rorik were running for their lives, trying to put as much distance between them and the explosion. They came to a dead end and decided to stop there.
“This looks good enough.†Torin said, letting go of Rorik’s arm. Rorik shook his arm wildly, thinking Torin’s iron grip had broken it.
“I just hope we’re not the last ones alive,†he responded.
“No, I’m sure others have noticed it. We couldn’t be the onl-†Torin stopped mid-sentence, taking out her gun and getting into a fighting stance. Somehow, a black creature had crawled out of the wall near her. Rorik noticed it as well and unsheathed his sword with his good arm.
More creatures leapt out of the wall, floor, and sky. They were everywhere; little black things with big bulging yellow eyes. The ant like creatures almost covered the street, and Torin and Rorik were surrounded.
“Rorik, this looks bad†Torin said frantically, looking left and right.
“Looks like fun to me…†Rorik replied, trying to lighten the situation but letting his voice quiver with fright.
“This is no satire,†said Torin, raising her guns.
The creatures pounced, as if responding to his joke about them. Torin’s vision went black. She couldn’t even see the creatures’ eyes anymore; her vision was clouded with complete darkness. She felt like she was sleep, yet awake. She could feel the darkness crawling all over her, probing and prodding her, and she felt horrified by the feeling.

Is this… death?’ she thought, wondering if this was the end. But as if she had opened her eyes, a light appeared.
She pushed the darkness off of her, reaching for the light. The darkness tried to stop her, gripping her feet. Torin reached as far as she could, coming so close she could feel the heat radiating from the warm light.
“Almost…there!â€
She kicked the darkness off, using all her strength to lunge and grab the light. There was a blinding flash and she was back in the street, surrounded by the creatures again. She was on her back with the creatures jumping and spinning around her. She felt her blade in her hand. She rose to her feet and spun, slicing through the creatures with what she thought was her sword. But upon closer inspection, she found it to be quite different than her own.
It had a yellow hilt, with hand-guards on both sides. There was a blue ring leading to a circular blade that looked more like a silver stick then a sword, and at the top where 4 prongs sticking out. There was a key chain ming off the hilt, and at the bottom there was a strange circle with 2 smaller circles coming off of it like ears. She gripped it tightly. It was heavier then her blade and it looked like a giant key. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was something.
Torin looked around to find Rorik, only to see his figure covered in darkness. She was about to lunge at the darkness with the blade, but as if on its own, the huge key flew up to point at Rorik. A beam of light shot from the tip, sending the darkness into oblivion. The blade acted on its own again, pointing to the wall of a building. A beam of light came out of it, and a doorway of sorts appeared after a short flash of light.
“What…what the hell is this thing!?†Torin shouted
“I dunno, but that door’s looking very inviting,†replied Rorik He grabbed Torin by the arm and ran through the door
On the other side she tripped and fell, looking at the doorway she had run through. Dark energy waves rippled across the surface of the Earth, turning buildings to dust. She squinted to see more, but her vision failed her. All she saw as black.
And then she passed out.

 

Yeah, let's just call it KHVR3...XD

Hope everyone enjoys it!^^

(This first chapter was written by me, and edited by Roxas, the 2nd will be written by Roxas and editted by me...:p )

 

wow, that was just........wow.......amazing O_O
when reading the beginning (of ch. 1) i was imagining those FF:AV bikes that cloud rides but with alot of people and with guns and swords xDDD

very good, maybe even better than i thought.........yea it is :3


though i am getting tired of the same damn keyblade in every kh fanfic >____>

 

It changes, trust me...;)

 

interesting premise. it should be cool to combine kh vids royale and kingdom hearts, i look forward to the next chapters.

 

That was great guys, I can't wait to see what you have in store for the future.

 

Very cool. Can't wait for the next chappies.

 

Very nice...any chance we see any Kingdom Hearts characters or just original ones?

 

-Arc, her boyfriend, was dead, and it was unknown whether Sara had killed her-
only mistake i found in the whole thing not that i was purposely looking for them but great story enjoyed every bit of it

 

Looks promising:) Glad it ties into KHVR.
But does this mean that the KH-V community will appear in the story?

 

Yes, many members who have never been in it before, and have even DIED will be in the story.

 

So no signing up right?

 

No, unfortunetly we already have a large list of members, both new and old that will be in it.

 

That's cool...wait, but will I be in it?

 

You'll have to wait and see.

 

Does that mean that the people who signed up for the old khvr and the new would be in it?:p

 

I'f thats so then YAY!!!

 

No, no promises to ANYONE. We'll only use the collest people who will actually help the story progress.

 

Omg hun.. that was truelly amazing.. That took a long time to read but heh it was worth my time.. It is brilliantly written n described. I could just see it

Good job guys !!!!
xxxx

 

Man that seems promising xD

I guess ppl shouldn't get their hopes up at all.