Darius Fetch/Drake Pathos

It had been a few years now, ever since that day. Ever since his life was torn from him, since he had been Darius Fetch. It had been a long time since he had ginger hair or a punkish attitude. So many days had passed that were filled with just him recalling the torture L’Ombra put him through. Every memory convinced him to touch where L’Ombra had hurt him. From his shoulders to his leg, to the spots where he had driven the nails down into his body.

That day was the day he broken him.

But Darius grew from it, in a way. It was in might or confidence, it was in maturity and wisdom. He had calmed down, letting the fire within begin to simply sizzle. However, this wasn’t entirely positive. The fire within no longer burned wild like it did before, only in response to the forge. Only in response to his work and to the sight of Luna. A being who could understand his passion. He was a kid back then, barely 19 and still learning what he wanted in the world.

He wanted to be a hero.

A journeyer.

A journeyman of the craft.

A father of invention. And he was, or he was close to being one. Simply, his designs were the encaged infants that were yet to be birthed. He had yet to master them, tune them to their best condition for the current mindframe. It was always a point of his to optimize. To work out all the negative possibilities and make them as close to perfect as he could. To make sure another Tsubot didn’t happen. To preserve what he loved most.

Luna had been soft on his eyes and had provided great assistance, but she wasn’t going to fill the void Ellis created; not for a while at least. He was working day in and day out for Marigold to create the next best thing. The next best peacemaking tool. The next best device for society to evolve with. He had researched the burst of inspiration he received when creating Tsubot, also mixing it with his own studies of the heart. This made him disappear for a long time, taking a trek for months across several worlds. In this time, he had mapped every star and chunk of rock he had come across.

He unraveled the architecture of the Sea of Skies, only able to do so in such short of time due to the warp drive implanted into his ship. It was a rather large ship, so without the prototype advice, he wouldn’t be able to subvert its weight. During his journeys, he had kept a journal of what he had experienced throughout the worlds. Often he had to make trips to SOL stations to do tune-ups on his prosthetic limbs, keeping himself evasive and careful with his actions. It was a stressful journey, especially since he spent half the time in fear of pirates.

Not even once did he draw his famous blade, Wildheart. A blade he didn’t forge, but a blade that drove him to learning. He had bestowed upon it his own influence, pouring the spirit of fire into it. But he wouldn’t ever forget the old man he had helped. The old man that birthed the ambition within that made him a…

A monster.

He killed so many people, and the leader of Twilight Town expanded upon that. He watched it directly, though. He watched children burn to the bright of his rage. Hayden had ensured that he had what he needed to burn the city to its knees. To burn the city so that a man in a mask could descend upon it and bring it into ash...A man wielding a keyblade himself that combatted the protectors of Twilight Town.

A man with a mask, the very mask that Darius had caught glimpses of. The very man that he scarcely remembered approaching him. But this revelation had given clarity to the memory. Leaning back in his seat, steam coming from his eyes instead of tears, he shuddered. Darius had been played a fool back then. All those years ago, the torturous memory of being a monster, it had been because he was too immature to see the gravity of what he might do. All it took was a puppeteer.

It just took Hayden.

Whispers of Darius being the Foreteller of Blades had rang throughout Twilight Town for a while, but eventually they died off. However, the identity of Darius Fetch was forever dangerous to uphold. Darius had to assume a new identity, he had to assume the name Copper. Eventually, he’d need to take a name that was possibly real, for Copper wasn’t going to last forever. Maybe Darren Crassus. Continuing his trek, he eventually recalled the very conversation he had with Hayden over keyblades and their existence, as well as memories of Terra.

The memories of holding the masterpiece that had been named Keyblade. As he studied the heart, he came to learn the by-products of it. Especially since he had to run away from those by-products in many instances. It also led to him to meet a few aged keybladers who told him tales of the past Unions and what made it so special. Eventually, Darius had accidentally overstepped his boundaries and found himself in a pit of space far away from any civilization he had known of. Into a spot on his map that he had not taken note of.

It was then that an endless mass of destruction had come upon his ship. It was growing, and from it, hundreds of thousands of hands had grown. All of them tried gripping at nothing, simply extending across the universe. Warping away, Darius had been cut short due to a lack of fuel. He had been careless since his last refueling, focusing on his own memories and allowing them to distract. Eventually, the ship’s systems were beginning to shut down, and the lack of air forced the boy to produce his own air.

Eventually he, too, had succumbed to exhaustion and the mass was upon him. His eyes had shut, and he had thought his end was truly there. Darius thought that out of all he had survived, this would kill him. Not having to tear off his own arms, nor the torture L’Ombra had put him through, or being within the Tower’s range of destruction, or how Ellis had been destroyed before him.

No, it’d be a massive unknown consuming him. Not the bullets that had punctured him on his first outing against Del Ray’s mob. L’Ombra was the mastermind behind that scheme, what had driven him to destroy the factory. L’Ombra had made it known that he would get his revenge for many things Darius had done. Thankfully, he did not attack Neverland. He didn’t even remove the diary, but maybe had been awaiting Darius himself to appear there.


Losing consciousness, Darius had awoken sometime later. Except he wasn’t in his ship, which likely meant a prototype of his had another copy of it destroyed. The first few times being the implementation of gummi technology in everyday technology in one of his failed prototypes. He was in an apparent void of blank-white. He knew he was sitting down because he felt it, but the lack of ability to tell where anything was had driven him off his rocker. No longer could he see detail aside from his own, and it was devoid of shadow.

Darius was in some sort of prison, he knew that much. Or he finally passed into afterlife, and this was the transitional split of heart and body. However, detail had returned to the room as well as shadows. It was masked by some sort of illusion, yet the room had morphed into a regular prison room. That of a spaceship’s. The wall before him had suddenly outlined a section out of it, shifting and opening like a door. A man dressed clad in black had stepped forward, moving to the left while a robed man had move into the right.

Staring down Darius, they had him switching his gaze to and fro between their views. One was a cyberorg of some sort and the other had bestial symbols, resembling that of the Unions. The very Unions that he had been told about from many of the keyblade sages. The older man had a staff that was shamanic, with a skull encircled by runic spheres. A green aura radiated off the staff, almost fire-like. The old man turned his head to the black-themed stranger.

”Well, Weiss. It seems that you’ve found yet another interesting subject. However, I feel it would be best fit to allow me the right to explain.” “Weiss” had frowned, turning his visor-concealed eyes to the assumed keyblader. ”I guess. I mean, I already have what I want. Research seems to be going well and WizTech seems to be doing well with what we have. I’ll let you take this one-” Darius stood up suddenly, but immediately fell. Looking down, he realized that his prosthetic leg was missing. He couldn’t feel it before, but now he could see it in full view.

Weiss chuckled, shaking his head before the boy could yell at him. The wall closed to conclude the man’s exit, leaving the keyblader and Darius alone. ”I heard you were quite the trouble-maker in the infirmary. In fact, there is hardly an infirmary left because of the trouble you made. Oh, little fiery one. You remind me much of myself. In fact, you remind me even more of my son. Especially with the ginger revealing itself through the black dye. I can see it just...ever-so slightly. Hm-Hm-Hm.” The man had taken a seat on a bench tangent to the one Darius had removed himself from.

Floating upwards, a magical force had replaced the boy’s position, allowing him more comfort. Looking left and right, the lack of arms had said even more about what had happened: some of that remaining fire had been unleashed with pure rage and his unconsciousness had prevented him from stopping himself. His body had shed his mind’s fear and cried on those who had tried helping him. The sage had leaned on his staff while sitting, sighing while looking at the fading attention of Darius.

”They found you drifting in space, encased in crystal fire. Now, few I know can do that. Those who truly have fire burning within, a sun of their own. A supergiant star meant for great things.” Darius was still drifting away, trying to recall what had happened in the last moments of consciousness before the mass had consumed him. The sage slammed the pommel of his staff onto the floor, snapping Darius’ attention back to him.

”I know who you are, Darius.” Darius fidgeted, heat briefly streaming off his body. But as soon as that spice had made his confidence spike, he immediately succumbed to fear and the heat died down. ”How do you know my name?” The old man had chuckled, summoning a green fire of his own, consuming a space in the air as an emerald blade of solidified fire had fallen into the floor upside-down.

”Because your blood extends far past the weak orphan boy I had come to watch for years. I’ve been waiting for you to bloom, but expected an untimely demise once you had hidden yourself from the world. I am a Foreteller. A master within the Sun Union. We Praise the Almighty Sun, and our families have bred masters of blade and fire. Your blood, however, is that of the forgemasters, the Crassus family.” Standing up, the sage had brushed his hand through the air, as green fire burst from Darius’ arms and legs. Suspending the fire, the old man had granted Darius the ability to move.

Instantly, out of panic, Darius had gone for the keyblade. He had known of its powers and the corruption filling the Unions, he had hoped he could take it. But as soon as he lunged for it, it had returned to the sage’s hand. ”And if the name Darren Crassus had ever gone through your mind, it is because you are my grandchild. Darren Crassus the Fifth.” Darren the Third, as the sage would be known as, had instilled disbelief into Darius’ eyes, a common emotion that limited yet protected him during his lifetime.

It even inspired him to fight many oppressive forces. It inspired the monster people would know as Darius Fetch. Darren the Third had dismissed his keyblade, offering his hand to Darius. ”Come on, dear boy. This journey of your’s has been an eventful one. Let us recover your research. Don’t worry, a wrecked ship had been found not far from where we found you. Just take my hand.” Darius was hesitant at first, but eventually placed his hand into the man’s.

A green aura had consumed the two, and they had warped to another undisclosed position within the prison. His belongings were kept within a stasis pod, which had been opened so he could retrieve it. Turning to the old man claiming to be his grandfather, Darius rose a brow. ”Why show up now? Why not when I could have needed you most? Why not stop me from the...terrible thing I did?”

The old man gave another egotistic chuckle, wagging his finger at poor Darius. ”Things needed to be natural. You needed your mistakes and successes. I couldn’t make your revelations, they needed to stem from your own self-reflection. The results were both lovely and...horrifying. Horrifying in the sense that my poor boy’s son had to have his heart crushed in order for it to grow. What that man did to you, I felt it. I knew that once Ellis had disappeared after that day, it was similar to what had happened to me.”

Darren had waved his hand, watching the space before him crack and break, forming a hole that appeared to be from broken glass, the glass being the very fabric of space. Beckoning Darius to step through it, the boy had seemingly done so in an entranced state. Charmed by the mystical nature of Darren’s magic. Suddenly, he was holding his belongings and had been on the meadows of Neverland. Darren approached behind Darius, putting a hand on his shoulder.

”See, the spirits that we birth are often simply extensions. But there is always at least one that becomes a being of their own. You had Ellis, I had Xena. She was beautiful, fortunately not as small as Ellis had been born as. The environment helps shape them, as well as fate. That mark that was on your hand brought you here. She was born here.” Darius sharply turned to Darren, a furled brow at his disturbing knowledge over his life.

”How did…” ”I gave those mages the spell. I used them to protect you. It was better than allowing you to die. I know, I broke my own rules, but it certainly accelerated your growth. That look of wonder you used to have...it was inspiring even for myself!” Darren warmly smiled, shifting his hand to caress Darius’ face much like Tsumiko did when he was under her watch.

He closed his eyes, steam curling out from his eyelids and whipping through the air. Suddenly they shot open and he jerked away from Darren. The fire that acted as his limbs had slowly shifted to a yellow hue, with orange making its own spots. Red mixed in at certain points, eventually mixing into a reddish-orange. He had dominated the fire Darren cast upon him. It was subconscious, so he didn’t even realize what he had done. His steps burned their place into Neverland, destroying the hundreds of lives that were contained in the grass blades underneath this monstrous titan of a man.

”I...I’m not ignorant to what you tell me. I know there has to be some truth...but how do I know you are-” ”Really telling the truth? Look at the similarities, look at what you were able to do. Remember the names that have been trapped inside your head. We can harness magic and creation to create life. We breath life into the mana around us.” Darren made steps towards his grandchild, extending another hand out.

”You said we could do it more than once, but I will never tap into that fire. Not again. I’m not going to create something only to make myself vulnerable and to give it a painful death. He tortured her…” Darius’ eyes had started producing high volumes of steam, burning the orbs that did their best to resist. ”She wasn’t even alive when she was awake. He broke her, and crushing her didn’t make it impossible for her to ever be the same. She already passed that point.”

Darren nodded, closing his own eyes before slowly convincing Darius to hug him, using one arm while he maintained balance with his staff. ”It’s alright. I know what it feels like. They become their own, but that connection never breaks. It never heals, we just adapt.” The two stood there, embracing each other. All that loneliness Darius felt had given him flashes of his orphanage before being exiled from the Kingdom of Dreams. Before meeting Laiya and being hunted by Del Rey’s men. Before Neverland. Before Faye.

Before Tsumiko and Terra. Before all of it.

During all of it.

After all of it.

Now he was simply isolated, or he was before Darren gave him someone to relate to. Hope that his family still lived, even if it was just him. Darren broke the embrace, and Darius looked up at the sage with a trembling smile. ”Do you know why I found you?” Darius shook his head, unable to speak from the seething heat of his evaporating tears. ”You broke. I gave it a while but...hm...It wasn’t going anywhere but those insomnia-driven nights of fruitless invention. You need to regain yourself.

Reignite that fire.”

Darius tried looking away, but Darren had gripped his face and gently kept his face forward. ”Look at me, you are destined to wield the fire of the Eternal Sun. You are the Sun now. You weren’t formerly the Sun, you won’t become it, you ARE the Sun. That fire won’t die. Don’t lose yourself. If Ellis loved you like my Xena, she wouldn’t want that.” Darius nodded, burying his head into Darren’s chest.

”Shhh...It’s alright. Come on, I think I know the first step of this journey.”

And just like that, those months turned into a year. During that second year, Darren had taught Darius how to truly manifest the power of fire, giving him a sense of evolution that he had never felt before. His time was wonderful, but he never truly recovered. Sure, his fire had returned to its bright and confident state, but he was only a husk. A strong husk, but with nothing inside. While he was no longer frail like how Darren had found him, he had become a seeker of hope seemingly eternally. He wouldn’t stop wanting, not until something or someone had truly filled the void.

Through the months of training, Darius had become much more atoned and calm, but it didn’t rip away the fun and wild side of himself. It just seemed that he was more rational internally, externally disguising himself as the wild Fetch people had come to know...except he took the name Darren Crassus. Darren the Third had shown him the power of manifesting the spirits of flame that the Crassus family had been known for within their lesser Union of Keybladers.

Eventually, Darius prodded to the real reason his parents settled down in the Kingdom of Dreams. Darren told them of their heroic journeys, but eventually wanted to be a normal family. They left their keyblades where all dormant keyblades go, in the Keyblade Graveyard. When he asked if their demise had been what he thought it was, the answer was clearly no. His grandfather had explained that they had made many enemies, and the apparent bandits that had killed them for the sensible reason that had arisen, sensible if they were regular civilians, they had been assassinated by former enemies who were now in hiding, retired or deceased.

Darius’ next question was obvious, and that was how he, himself, could own a keyblade. Complaining that he should be able to take it, much like how he complained with Hayden. Darren had to explain that it requires one’s own journey, much like the one Darren had sat back from. Darius had gotten so close to seeking a keyblade, but when he was hunted by L’Ombra, then that goal had grown distant.


It came to a point where Darius awoke in his newly rebuilt grotto and left to search for his missing grandfather. He passed several Lost Boys, but none had known where Darren ran off to. Darren simply...vanished. Darius felt abandoned, and once again that void began to gape. It didn’t take long, but the old man had prepared himself for this. A golden aura radiated off the boy’s body, A silhouette of himself had drifted away, turning around and walking away.

This silhouette reshaped itself into a figure lacking much detail besides muscle definition and a mask of bone. He had a beaded belt and necklace, the belt holding onto a tattered half-robe that covered the spirit’s legs. Solidfying, the silhouette had formed the darkened body that would be yet another birthed Spirit of Darius’. Knowing he was there, Darius kept silent.

”Darius, you can’t hold onto someone’s hand forever. I know you don’t like listening to me...but remember why I exist.” Darius gulped, gripping his fiery hands tightly. They were crystallized, simply being made from condensed fire. ”But he left me! I’m….” ”No. You’re not alone. I’m here, don’t let your heart stray from the path. We must grow together. We must work in Harmony.” Darius turned to the spirit of fire, agony in his face.

”I know, Caesar. I know.” A blue fire burst from Darius’ body, tearing itself away, however the boy seemed unphased by it. ”Eh? And what am I? Simply the good ol’ doggy wit’ his tail tangled ‘round his balls? Oh, don’t you think you’re alone. You made us for this exact purpose.” Frustrated, Darius cried out to the blue spirit of fire. ”I KNOW! Izz…I know. I’m sorry. But...But I don’t know what to do now! Caesar, you’re the sage here, where’s the next step?”

”You know where we have to go.” Caesar approached Darius, gently touching where the boy’s heart would be with his index finger.Caesar dispersed into golden energy, flowing through the air like sand and back into Darius’ body. Izanagi, the blue fire spirit, walked with a rushed pace. ”Well, the Crassus Tomb it is.” Jamming into Darius’ body, the indigo fire exploded and circled around the Crassus boy.

The golden and blue fire whirled around him, eventually fading. Focusing on a point in front of him, Darius extended his arm. Channeling heat into a single point, he ignited that area and an explosion of fire consumed him, pulling him in and imploding on itself without causing any harm to the area around it.  

Awakening in a damp, dark place, Darius had been laying flat and momentarily paralyzed. Eventually stumbling to his feet, he extended his arm to his side, wildfire circling around the space before his hand. Wildheart had come to him, a beautiful blade that he had not seen in years. He could still remember the blood smeared on Sparrow. The bastard who killed Tsubot. The bastard who killed his child.

Journeying forward, he came upon a staircase descending down. Golden and blue energies trailed off his body, and when he reached the bottom he had come to an open area. To his left, Izanagi had burst from his body while to his right, Caesar had calmly exited. Caesar had a blade strapped to his side while Izanagi simply wielded his fiery hands, forming a blade of his own and juggling three miniature fireballs in his free hand.

The door before them had a hexagonal shape, with nothing to indicate the ability to simply open it. In the middle of the room was a pigeon fountain that was empty. Clearly a tribute was required, something Darren had ambiguously explained before, stating he needed to know for himself what it was. Nearing the up-lifted, empty pond, he extend his arm, fiery energies being torn from his body. It felt like it took something, but in such a way that he could not recognize.

The door before them had evaporated into sparks, smoke clouding their vision, and once it cleared they were in a catacomb shaped like a downward prison. Cells for the dead or undead, and Darius was no longer wielding Wildheart. Each cell had a burning candle within, contributing to the illumination of the halls connecting throughout. Curious filled Darius’ mind, and it felt like he was alone yet again. The blue fire spirit wandered himself, as did Caesar. The three had split up, and eventually Darius had become lost in the catacomb.

Peering into the various cells, spirits of the former Crassus members had shown their inner selves. Some where skeletons sitting in deep thought. Some had been burning, skinless yet fleshy beings that had whipped themselves endlessly. The most reoccurring theme was regret and repentance that would never be achieved. Continuing his journey, most of it seemed only minorly relevant.

Then he saw them.

Then he shed tears. Not steam, tears. It had been fifteen years, give or take. It had been so long since he saw them. There weren’t bars, there was a runic glass panel. A couple holding hands. One had been missing half of her flesh and skin, that half being a charred skeleton and the other missing the opposite half. Both had charred bones while the fleshy remains had been encased in fire. They sat in rocking chairs, staring at a small crib.

They couldn’t remove their eyes. He knew who the two were. Disfigure as the flesh was, Darius couldn’t deny that he was looking at his parents. Suddenly, Caesar and Izanagi had joined his sides. Placing a hand on the glass, the couple looked at Darius, but couldn’t see the spirits at his sides. “We’re sorry.” Darius nodded, banging once on the glass with a closed fist. “We did our best...and it wasn’t enough.”

Darius broke down, and eventually he was screaming out for his parents. Banging on the glass, he simply wished for them to return. But they would forever remain in this tomb. Forever shall their spirits be trapped in the Crassus Prison. The Sun’s Abyss. Turning around, Darius had fallen against the glass, sliding down and cross his arms. He didn’t realize it, but he was near the botto of the seemingly endless pit.

But he stopped now. His path was cut before he could finish. Izanagi forced Darius to his feet, who was completely vulnerable to outside influence. Caesar took Darius by his shoulders, staring with his single eye into the boy’s own eyes. ”You can’t stop now. You knew this was coming, Darius. Don’t let that pain weigh you down now…” ”Use it as fuel for the forge, create a way around it.” The words of Darius’ spiritual extensions had echoed throughout, in a way only Ellis could speak to him before.

Darius slowly began to accept that he needed to tough through this. He had succumbed way too many times to the opposing forces of fate, and he needed to fight back. They were mere rocks to be scorched away by his fiery star. Gaining the courage, he continued through the tombs, and when he finally reached the bottom, there was a black-robed man. Green fire had exploded next to the man, summoning a staff much like Darren the Third’s.

”You made it...good. Now, I see that your hearts are powerful enough...I feel this is where you find your place in this catacomb. But first, your beloved “Wildheart”...” A plume of fire shot out in front of Darius, revealing a sword in a stone. In fact, it was Darius’ Wildheart. Confused, he released the blade from the stone, taking a triumphant pose. ”This doesn’t-”lor=gold]”I’ve wanted your heart and the hearts of those you create for a long time. The reason we can create other living beings is because of the cancer that lives in us. The Crassus family has always been victim to a mystical cancer...poisonous as long as we let that stress build up. Eventually, Izanagi and Caesar will not be the only spirits you create. They are the second and third, and eventually...you’d of bred more. No, now seems optimal.”

Izanagi didn’t hesitate to attack, firing bolts of blue fire towards the Foreteller. They were instantly absorbed. Izanagi stood confused, watching as his projectiles vanished into the man’s body. ”You think love is a real object? It is a weakness. It’s what kills us in the end. The stars burn out because WE the Crassus bound our hearts to eventual mortality. We could...We could be immortal. But love and pride and morals and fear chains us to the idea of mortality!”

Darius, hesitant to approach and attack, slowly lifted his blade. ”But all those months…” Darren summoned massive volumes of green, smokey-fire. Cascading down on the boy, he was defended only by the reflexive pyres that plumed from his body. The exhaustion of fear had left the boy heavily conflicted. ”This seems random, I know. I know-I know. But I’ve been pruning hope just to make you stronger from the agony. Those years of not creating anything. I mean, even Tsubot took a piece of your heart.”

With a mocking laugh, Darren kept the fire crashing down on the boy, who could hardly hold it. Izanagi had embraced the flames, taking them into his body. Caesar had revealed his energized blade, rushing down Darren. A burst of fiery darkness revealed a purple-shifted version of Darren the Third’s Keyblade. Clashing with equal speed and power, the keyblade slammed against Caesar’s blade.

The two engaged in melee combat for a while, but eventually Darren had dominated. Knocking Caesar away, the sage had pointed his dark keyblade to Darius. Darius, angered at the pain of Caesar, watched as Izanagi approached with his own blade. Another clash, yet an even quicker one. Izanagi fell to Darren’s might. Summoning endless fire once more, Darius immediately let out a roar, all of the green shifting to radiant orange-red, forcing it down on Darren. He tried absorbing it, but the intensity had increased to that of Wildfire.

Darius slowly approached Darren, shoving a hand into Darren’s chest. ”I let my first love die...But no more will I stand by and simply watch people I care for die. Even if they are objects of my own narcissism...ironic as it may be. Now, I guess you’re the one who’s going to need to-”

Everything came to a stop. Darius’ eyes and mouth and everything had trembled and moved with an erratic fidget. Flashes of his life passed through him, and he went into himself. Awakening within a void of blackness, Darius had entered an endless free-fall. Looking below, there had been orbs containing the memories he had come to hold dear. The songs he sang with Ellis and Tsumiko. Tsubot’s birth. Meeting Faye. Meeting Terra and Tsumiko. Eventually it came to his recovery. Luna’s smile. In every angle. In every lighting. Admiration, wonder, curiosity. Love for the craft. But it came into a full circle when he looked back at a blue-shifted image of himself. Beyond these memories had been a burning pit of lava.

What would you do to preserve these memories…?
Shine.
What if the darkness is too thick?
I can burn through any darkness. I don’t need any ol’ crotchety commitment. I have  my fire, and my friends have me. And I have them.
What if they abandon you?
I’ll fawkin’ bop them mate. I’ll fawkin knock them on th’ head and ask the bloody hell is wrong with them?
What if they see the real you?
I’ll smile.
What if they see the darker you?
Even warmer.
What if they love you?
Then I’ll love them even more. My heart will always burn for those I care about.
And that fire...is all we need. Just reach into the unknown...and grab it. Reach through the pain, through the reflections that bind you. Maybe then, you’ll be strong enough.

Darius, falling down the void, had seen glimpses of the spirits he’d come to create in the future, and those he had already created. Ellis, the Spirit of Love. Caesar, the Spirit of Harmony. Izanagi, the Spirit of Creation. Tsubot, his daughter. The happy memories he shared with everyone, even Darren. It made him ignorant to the very issue he had. The very reason he became so radical. Darren was too lost, but there was one last thing.

Awakening to the keyblade phasing through his body, Darius hugged Darren. ”I’m sorry. We’re sorry.” The words repeated and echoed and summoned the Crassus spirits from their cells. Circling through the tomb, they all spiraled down into Darren’s forehead. ”No...What are you-” ”We didn’t love you enough. We didn’t do what we could.” Darius looked up to Darren who’s gaze was also upward. His eyes shined with green, and he screamed in agony.

Darius kept repeating his apologies, creating a small distance. Darren dropped his keyblade as it faded away. Touching his chest, Darius tried reaching into it. Pressing into it, it became easier and easier as more souls entered Darren. Eventually, the tomb began collapsing in on itself. As each moment passed, Darren’s body became more and more ethereal. Converting into a green energy, he eventually became a soul. His staff was absorbed into him, which eventually led to himself imploding with a final scream. Reality began being sucked into a vacuum, distorting Darius’ vision.

With a burst of fire, Darius had awoken, a circle of char around him as he laid down in a wasteland. On his back panting, he looked to his left and saw Izanagi crossing his arms, his skeleton head blazing with indigo fire. To his right was Caesar. They both looked ahead of Darius, causing him to sit up in curiosity. Planted into the wasteland’s ground on a hill of sorts, had been a fiery keyblade.

The Sun.

Walking towards the keyblade, Darius had slowly placed his hand on it, and before him all the Crassus souls had summoned. Light, Dark, the ambiguous middle ground of the two. They all looked at him with a smile. They knew the pain he felt. With each nod, the souls had passed on. They were no longer two halves, their souls were simply all that remained. Those souls faded, and the will that was passed on had burned on within Darius. In shock and awe, he even saw his parents standing next to Darren. They waved him goodbye.

They all cried, Darius and his family...together. His parents faded first, with Darren’s nod following suit. His nod was more apologetic, because no matter how dark a Crassus becomes, Darius learned that they will only ever be a product of the flaws the clan had formed. It was time for him to begin anew. He wasn’t going to be a Fetch or a Crassus. He would take another simple, silly, yet catchy name. Drake Pathos.

Removing the keyblade from the hill, Darren finally faded away. Now all that remained was Darius, and he was fine with that. He simply needed to rebuild. Once he left the Graveyard, he finalized his research with hearts, devising an invention from it that would convert raw magic, the raw magic that existed in limitless amounts in the universe, into energy to be used for everyday technology. He returned to his home, to his friends.

Darius returned wanting to be a hero, but not the slaying dragons kind...the loving leader kind. He returned to lead people into prosperity and cultivate the affection that cure most ailments and purged most darknesses. But most importantly for those who cared for the boy-turned-man…

Darius returned with a smile.