Hello everyone – another year, another chapter. At this rate, I plan to be finished sometime next millennium. So the reason for this massively late update mostly is due to the difficulty of writing battles. I think I bit off a bit more than I could chew with trying to write three simultaneously. Add that to a lay-off, a new job, a new city, a new girlfriend, an ex-girlfriend, and an exam, and I just found it difficult to find time to write. Hopefully (and you're completely justified in not believing me by now) I'll be a bit better with the next chapter. Until next year! (Just kidding. Maybe).

Ginta stared across the room, a slightly dull look on his face. Vexen seemed rather pleased with himself.

"Ginta, I'd like to introduce you to your Replica," Vexen said, gesturing at the Ginta nearest to him. "Replica, that's your less sophisticated original."

Ginta was too dumbstruck to take offense. "That's a replica of me?"

"Well, this is one of the first replicas I've ever made, so it's really more of a proof-of-concept. Now go along and get better acquainted while I finish with this seal," Vexen said, dismissing him with a casual wave of his hand.

The replica took that as his cue to attack, and he rushed straight towards his original, seemingly unconcerned that he was completely unarmed. Ginta was still having trouble processing exactly what he was seeing, and by the time he realized that he should be defending, the Replica had punched him in the jaw. Ginta stumbled backwards, rubbing his sore mouth.

"I hit me. Or he hit me. Or something…" he stammered.

"What exactly were you expecting?" Babbo asked. Before Ginta could respond the replica had resumed its attack, raining down a flurry of punches. The real Ginta took a few more solid hits before finally coming to his senses. Ginta slipped the next punch and delivered one of his own, connecting right on the replica's cheek. Ginta felt a little bad. It was an odd experience, punching himself in the face. He couldn't help but pull his punch at least a little bit. Babbo noticed.

"Ginta, would you kindly explain what in the world you are doing?!" Babbo shouted. "He isn't you! Use one of my forms to finish him so we can get back to fighting Vexen!"

"Right!" Ginta said, transforming Babbo to his hammer form. The replica raised its fists in a futile attempt to defend itself. Ginta landed two swift hits, breaking through his guard and allowing a follow-up punch to the gut that sent his replica skidding to a halt at Vexen's feet.

"You have weapons too, you know," Vexen said, not bothering to look away from his work. The replica staggered back to its feet, and with a flourish a silver dagger engulfed his right arm. Ginta was shocked. His replica didn't have a Babbo-replica. Then how was it using his forms?

Ginta matched his replica's form, replacing his hammer with a dagger. His replica launched into a fury of strikes that Ginta was all too familiar with, having spent countless hours repeating them ad nauseam. It was almost too simple to defend. Apparently that knowledge went both ways, as Ginta was also unable to land a single blow. It was like trying to fight his own shadow.

"I didn't think I was this good," Ginta said, breaking off his assault and transforming Babbo back to normal. Babbo was less than amused.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously enough."

Ginta looked past his replica, where Vexen had solved more of the seal. Out of panic he swung Babbo with a little less finesse than normal. His replica sidestepped, and Babbo's head embedded itself into the ground next to him. Ginta stepped in, using Babbo's hammer-shaped handle to knock the replica in the chest. The replica doubled over, clutching his stomach. Ginta felt kind of bad. That didn't stop him from swinging again, whipping Babbo in a circle to build up his momentum. This time Babbo's head connected with a sickening crack, knocking the replica in the jaw and staggering him backwards.

With an angry grunt the replica flourished his left hand, and Babbo's bubble-launcher appeared in his grip. Both Ginta's and Babbo's eyes widened. With a sly grin the replica squeezed off a stream of Babbo-bubbles, hitting Ginta in the chest. The explosion sent him clear across the room.

Ginta got to his feet and looked between his replica's dagger and bubble-launcher. "That's not fair," he said. "I can't use two forms at once."

"Well you're a reasonable guy. Just explain that to yourself and I'm sure that your replica will be happy to accommodate you," Babbo said. "And just so you know, that was sarcasm."

Ginta glanced at him. "Even I knew that."

Their banter was cut short as the replica charged, slashing with his dagger. Ginta parried, and then swiped at his replica's left side. His replica blocked with his bubble-launcher, then countered with a stab. Ginta jumped out of the way. His replica moved to pivot behind him, but Ginta cut him off with a viscous swing of his dagger. His replica seemed to have been expecting that, as he quickly leveled his launcher and fired a point-blank salvo. The wind caught in his chest as Ginta was thrown backwards. His replica, showing an impressive amount of speed, kept pace with him as he hurtled across the room. The moment Ginta landed his replica was waiting.

Ginta landed flat on his back and instinctively kicked out, hoping to catch his replica off Guard long enough to get to his feet. But his replica front flipped over him, firing his bubble-launcher. Ginta managed to roll out from under the bubbles, but the resulting blast shoved him back to the ground. Ginta rolled onto his back, only to see his replica bearing down on him, his dagger pointed straight down. At the last second Ginta rolled, then lashed out with another kick. This one connected, and his replica stumbled long enough for Ginta to get to his feet and score a quick few hits. His replica, who had remained silent up until now, grunted in pain and anger, and fired a salvo of bubbles behind him, catching Ginta in the chest. Once again he was blown from his feet and sent tumbling across the room.

Ginta sighed, more from frustration than pain – although there was still plenty of pain. This was getting old. The ground was still partially frozen, and getting hurled into it over and over was starting to hurt. His limbs still ached from his fight with Vexen, and he was running so low on magic that he couldn't spare any to numb the pain.

"Any ideas?" he asked Babbo.

Babbo raised his chain in an approximate imitation of a shrug. "Gargoyle?"

Ginta considered it for about half a second, before realizing that the last thing he wanted was for his replica to know he could summon a replica-Gargoyle. "Pass," Ginta said.

"Then I'm all out of ideas," Babbo said. "Just try to keep your distance – getting thrown around isn't a picnic for me either, you know."

Ginta transformed Babbo to his bubble-launcher. His replica leveled his own gun. Each fired a stream of bubbles, which impacted harmlessly between the two of them. Too far away to do more than rustle their hair. Both he and his replica scratched their heads, unsure of how to break the stalemate. Reluctantly Ginta transformed Babbo back to his dagger form. Seeing this, his replica immediately charged, his own dagger ready. Ginta met him in the middle of the room. Their daggers clashed together, and Ginta, filled with adrenaline, got three quick strikes in. His Replica countered with a few of his own – no more than glancing blows, but enough to throw Ginta off balance. Then his replica placed his bubble launcher against Ginta's head. Ginta's eyes widened as the explosion washed over him. He was surprised – his replica fired only a single bubble, and it felt weaker than before. Nevertheless, it was enough to send him stumbling sideways. His replica took advantage, and a wash of pain splashed across Ginta's back as his replica left him with a foot long gash. Ginta spun around and parried another blow, only to have his replica fire another bubble into him, staggering him long enough for his replica to score several more hits.

Ginta lamented that he was forced to use only one form at a time. His replica was pretty clever. He'd always lead with his dagger, forcing Ginta to block. Then he'd counter with a single bubble from his launcher – not enough to knock Ginta across the room, but enough to knock his guard down, leaving him wide open for the aforementioned dagger. Ginta responded by dipping into his magic to up his speed. It worked, for a while. With his increased speed Ginta was a lightning blur, parrying his replica's dagger and bubble-launcher so quickly that his replica couldn't keep up. Ginta even managed to land a few hits of his own. But he was tiring quickly, and the small amount of damage he was doing was offset by the heavy drain to his magic. He had to think differently.

Ginta jumped back, and his replica responded by firing a stream of bubbles. Ginta landed on one of the few remaining patches of ice. His legs swung out from under him, and as he landed he thought of the incoming explosion. Lying flat on his back, he did the only thing he could think of. He transformed Babbo back to normal, and then into his form fitting jelly suit. The jelly rippled and swayed from the explosion, but Ginta was completely unharmed. And unlike many of his other forms, the protective jelly was very magic-efficient, only using magic as it absorbed damage. Unfortunately, the jelly itself couldn't do any damage on its own. All it would do was by him some time. Considerably less time than he had hoped, since his replica was already setting to work trying to cut through the jelly. His replica stabbed, and the jelly shifted slightly to absorb the blow, leaving Ginta's right hand partially exposed. Not only that, but his replica's dagger seemed to be stuck.

Both Ginta and his replica looked at each other. Then Ginta punched. His replica staggered back, the jelly releasing his dagger with a squelch. Ginta glanced at his exposed fist. That could work. He focused, causing the jelly to rescind from his other fist and from his feet.

His replica paused for a moment, a bit unsure of himself. Ginta took the opportunity to attack with a quick three jab combination. His replica stumbled back, more out of shock than pain, then retaliated with a swing of his dagger. The jelly flexed and flowed, thickening slightly in the area of the cut. Ginta was completely unharmed, and before his replica could react Ginta roundhouse kicked him in the head.

"Why haven't I tried this before?" Ginta muttered, smiling down at his jelly armor. His replica leveled his bubble-launcher and fired a salvo. The jelly rippled as it absorbed the blast, which did nothing accept slow Ginta down slightly. Ginta retaliated with a punch that would have killed a regular human, but only managed to knock the bubble-launcher out of his replica's hands. It clattered to the ground and disappeared in a wisp of black smoke. The replica didn't seem to notice, and copying his original, covered himself in a form-fitting jelly suit.

The replica squared up against Ginta. Ginta breathed heavily, surprised that he was out of breath. His replica didn't seemed to be nearly as winded. To be fair, Ginta had used up a lot of energy dueling Vexen. His replica was fresh off of the bench.

Ginta adopted a proper boxing stance, raising his fists and tucking his chin slightly. His replica did the same.

Ginta stepped in and jabbed once, then landed two straight rights. His replica wobbled, knocked slightly off balance. Buoyed by his early success, Ginta threw an ill-advised haymaker. His replica easily slipped the punch and unleashed a volley of punches in rapid succession. Ginta recovered and threw a rapid-fire string of hard punches. All of them missed. Ginta wasn't used to boxing. He'd never been a fighter back in Japan, and most of his training in MAR focused on swords. Alan had shown him a few basic moves, but Ginta quickly forgot many of the finer details. Whenever he did have to box, he relied on his strength to finish the fight with one punch. He wasn't used to his opponent being equally as strong.

His replica used Ginta's frustration to launch a rapid series of body blows, driving shot after shot into Ginta's ribs. Luckily, the jelly suit was able to absorb them all, although the force of the blows forced Ginta back several steps. But his replica's lowered guard afforded Ginta the opportunity to land a solid hit to jaw. His replica stumbled backwards, his eyes slightly unfocused. Ginta was slightly confused, since his replica was covered in protective jelly, just as he was. Yet somehow his attacks were breaking through his replica's defenses. It was about time Ginta had a stroke of luck in this battle, and he pushed the assault, landing a thunderous left hook that thudded against his replica's face. His replica tried to counter, but his movements seemed stiff and uncoordinated. Ginta pressed the assault with a furious string of punches. His replica's guard drooped, his fists hanging almost to his sides. Ginta finished with a mighty uppercut that lifted his replica clear off the floor. His exhausted double landed hard. It didn't get up. Its body stiffened, then went limp, then completely disintegrated into black smoke. Ginta felt a rush of energy. It was more than just an adrenaline rush. Somehow his magic had been replenished. Or at least some of it had been.

Vexen was so shocked that he'd turned away from the seal – despite only having two more runes to solve. He quickly caught his shocked look and replaced it with one of clinical interest.

"How odd. The replica must have exhausted its supply of magic much faster than anticipated. I didn't expect that," he said, to no one in particular. "Perhaps memories themselves are too unstable to serve as a foundation for a replica, wouldn't you agree?" Ginta, wasn't sure if the question was directed to him or not. Either way, he had no idea what Vexen was blabbering about. "I'll have to experiment further with an appropriate binding material. It'll have to be meaningful to the original of course – something that will readily bind to the memories. Oh, and in case you were wondering, yes, I'm stalling you."

It took Ginta half a second to realize what Vexen had just said. But before he could move, a sharp blast of air emanated from Vexen's shield. Ginta's breath caught in his chest, like he'd just jumped into ice water in the middle of winter. The room had suddenly gone frigid and still, like the very molecules in the air had frozen in place. Worse yet, he could barely more. It wasn't like when he was frozen in the glacier. It was somehow worse. His magic was rapidly burning up as it attempted to protect him from the unforgiving cold. It didn't last too long. Soon his magic was completely depleted. He wasn't shivering anymore. His breathing was slow and shallow, and he was finding it difficult to hold a thought in his head. Worse than that, he didn't feel cold anymore. He felt warm, like he was lounging on a beach.

Vexen wasn't doing too much better. He was using his shield as a crutch. His straight hair was rigid like straw.

"Absolute zero," he croaked. "That's the temperature in the room. Which is also, coincidentally, your chance of winning." He grinned wearily and reached out to touch the last two runes. As soon as he touched the final symbol, the runes, now completely stationary, began to bleed from the wall.

"I appreciate your cooperation in this little experiment of mine," Vexen said. "Even though you lost, I hope you can take satisfaction in providing me with invaluable data for my replica research program. That made this whole trip worthwhile."

Ginta wasn't sure what Vexen was saying, but even his indignant retort froze in his throat. Vexen smiled. "If only it was this easy to get me coworkers to shut up," he said, before disappearing into a dark portal.

Ginta fell to his knees, his vision clouding. The last thing he saw was a black coated figure. Then, he blacked out.

Larxene flexed her fingers, watching as bolts of electricity danced between them. "You know, I'm actually kind of glad that Demyx didn't kill you. Now I get the chance to do it myself. I guess I'll have to thank him." She looked genuinely disgusted at the thought.

Dorothy braced herself, her Zephyrus Broom clutched in her hands. She felt more confident now that she had a tornado tearing through the clearing. The funnel of contained chaos patrolled the ground between them, cutting off a direct assault from Larxene. The Nobody observed the tornado with hands on hips, shaking her head. The tornado was less than twenty feet from her before she acted, sending a stream of electricity into the middle of the funnel. The tornado convulsed violently, bowing out at in the middle.

"You honestly think that my tornado's going to be stopped by a little lightning?" Dorothy shouted over the gale. Surprisingly, Larxene didn't have a retort. Even more surprisingly, Larxene redirected her lightning back onto herself, coating her whole body in an electric yellow glow. She darted forward, moving with a blinding speed that surpassed even Roxas. She was a lightning blur, dashing, not past, but through the tornado. Dorothy's eyes widened. After all of her travels and battles, she thought she'd seen everything. Even her battle hardened demeanor was shaken when Larxene emerged on the other side, encased in glowing golden light. The howl of the wind faded to a dying whimper, to be replaced by Larxene's roar of rage.

Larxene impacted Dorothy with the force of a comet, driving her back into the trunk of one of the forest's massive trees. Dorothy stumbled to her feet and was immediately mobbed by what seemed like six Larxenes. Hundreds of tiny cuts opened over Dorothy's entire body almost simultaneously. It was like being stung by a swarm of bees. Bees with knives.

Dorothy took a few stumbling swings with her broom. Larxene ripped it from her hands, pausing just long enough for Dorothy to register her laughing. A gleeful, psychotic laugh. Even Dorothy's magic sensing was too slow to keep up with Larxene, who was peppering her arms and legs with jolts of lighting in between cuts with her knives. Each attack was miniscule in power, but their sheer number and swiftness left Dorothy buckling. Her arms and legs twitched as thousands of tiny jolts shocked every muscle. The only thing she could think of was to wonder why Larxene was taking so long to kill her. Dorothy was utterly defenseless – there were countless ways Larxene could kill her in seconds. And all the while Larxene kept laughing. A high-pitched, electrified, gleeful laugh.

Dorothy crumpled to the ground and gave a pained shout, involuntarily releasing a ring of pure magic. Enough to leave scorch marks in the earth and tossing the Nobody onto her back with a satisfying thud. Dorothy paid dearly for her outburst – she had enough magic left for one more ARM.

Luckily, Larxene didn't seem to notice how dangerously weak her opponent was. She was still enveloped in the electric yellow glow, but she didn't seem to be too eager to rush back into battle. She was too busy watching her last remaining clone get decimated by a pulse of water from Undine.

Larxene balled her fists. "You are starting to get on my nerves!" she shouted as the water nymph turned towards her, a ball of water swirling in her hands.

"Snow, what are you waiting for?" Dorothy shouted. "Finish her off now while she's weak!" Dorothy doubted very much that Snow would be able to kill Larxene. But perhaps she could give Dorothy enough time to synch with her Guardian. If she even had enough magic left to summon a Guardian.

Snow nodded, giving Undine the order to attack. Dorothy noted that Snow didn't order her Guardian too leave the Nobody alive.

"I'll show you weak!" Larxene shouted, her voice layered with static.

Undine rushed her, riding a wave of water and launching a salvo of water pulses at Larxene. The Nobody shimmered as she dodged every one.

Once Undine was within striking distance she switched to her water whip. She gracefully swung the whip over her head, preparing to strike. She never got the chance. The water nymph's eyes widened as the Savage Nymph annihilated her with what looked like a thousand bolts of blue lightning. The blast of electricity cut straight through the Guardian and continued on, directly at Snow.

"Ukie-chan!' Snow shouted, her trusted snowman appearing before her, intercepting the bolt of lightning. From the look on its white face, it was in agony. Snow was already so drained of magic that even a magic-efficient guardian like her snowman was unlikely to last for more than a few moments. But Dorothy wasn't even half synched with her own Guardian.

The snowman's face began to droop as large chunks of snow sloughed off. In a few more moments it would be damaged beyond repair. It was now or never.

"Guardian ARM, Crucified Scarecrow!" Dorothy shouted. Larxene snapped her attention to Dorothy, the blue light from her lightning bolts casting cruel shadows upon her face, accentuating her fury.

The scarecrow hovered a few feet off of the ground, its arms hanging limply at its sides. Its empty eye sockets looked questioningly at Dorothy.

"Finish her," Dorothy said, pointing towards Larxene. The scarecrow lifted a limp arm to tip his hat, then glided in front of Larxene. Larxene put her hands on her hips, looking down here nose at the scarecrow.

"Really, is that it? A scarecrow? The stupid hallucinations Zexion tries to scare us with are scarier than that!"

The scarecrow lifted his head, its red eyes glaring at her from underneath its large brimmed hat. Larxene suddenly froze. Her mouth moved slowly, and her speech was reduced to a low gurgling sound, like she was talking around a mouthful of molasses. She took a stiff step forward and stopped, the effort of moving proving to be too much. Dorothy lamented the fact that, if she had been fully synched, Larxene wouldn't have been able to move at all. Although it was nice that she finally shut up.

Larxene created a line of clones next to her. Larxene couldn't move, but apparently her clones could. They rushed him, but it was all too easy for the scarecrow to cut through them with a single slice of his gloved hand.

"Scarecrow, now!" Dorothy pleaded, grateful that, of all of her guardians, scarecrow was the most to-the-point. The scarecrow began spinning like a top. Larxene struggled against her invisible bonds, actually managing to take a few lurching steps forward.

Once the Guardian was no more than a spinning blur it launched. As a last ditch defense, Larxene summoned a line of clones to hide behind. The scarecrow drilled through them like tissue paper. The real Larxene let out a single long, anguished shout. Dorothy wasn't confident that it would be enough and she didn't have enough magic for another attack. It was taking all of her concentration to remain synched with her Guardian as it was. In fact, just a moment later Dorothy's magic ran out, and Scarecrow deactivated.

Luckily, Larxene was hunched over, clutching her bleeding stomach.

"I'm not going to waste my time trying to get some tacky jewelry." She said through gritted teeth, before breaking into a grin. "Besides, it looks like the cavalry has finally arrived."

"What?" Dorothy said, struggling to keep her voice sounding intimidating. Larxene gestured at the forest where hundreds of lamp-like yellow eyes beamed back at them. "Enjoy the Heartless!" Larxene said, before vanishing into a dark portal.

Lexaeus plunged into the ground like a meteor, the red and gold flames radiating from his body as the ground shuddered, flexed, then exploded. Blinded by the intense light, Nanashi could only hear the horrible sound of rock and earth cracking and splintering like breaking bones. The worst thing was that Nanashi didn't feel anything other than a gentle rocking motion. Absolutely no pain at all.

I'm dead¸ Nanashi thought. I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead.

The ringing in his ears died down, and vague, ghost-like shapes faded into and out of view. Nanashi shook his head, focusing his vision. He was at the bottom of a deep crater. No, he hadn't been knocked down. The entire ground had shifted, rising up all around him in sharp spikes and sheer cliffs, some almost reaching the ceiling. Nanashi, realizing that he was still in his body (and wondering if that meant he was still alive), scaled the rock wall, hoping to see what had happened.

The room was completely unrecognizable. The ground had twisted and shifted for thirty yards in each direction, completely terraforming the room. Nanashi, now convinced that he was very much alive, wondered how he could have survived. He looked back down at the hole he had just climbed out of, noticing a long, unnaturally straight trench leading away from the hole. Nanashi jogged along the top of the cliff, following the trench, which stopped abruptly twenty feet away. He glanced down and his heart stopped. Pinned beneath a large boulder on a ledge ten feet below the ground, was Jack, his Battle Shovel clutched in his hands. He was unconscious – Nanashi hoped.

Nanashi leapt down to the ledge. He thought that his lance might break as he levered the boulder off of Jack, but eventually it rolled just enough for Nanashi to drag him out from underneath. Nanashi felt his heartbeat. There was none.

"Damn it, Jack," Nanashi said. It had taken all of Jack's magic to negate Lexaeus' earth magic. Jack had just enough power to protect one of them. And he picked Nanashi.

Nanashi rubbed his hands together, activating his Electric Eye ARM and generating a small electrical charge between his fingers. He'd tried this particular trick before. It worked…most of the time. He touched Jack's chest with his fingers, discharging the built up electricity, then checked his pulse. With a sigh of relief he felt Jack's heart beating again – faintly. But he was still in rough shape. He had to get to a Healer immediately.

Nanashi was knocked from his feet as the ground rumbled again. Lexaeus had reappeared from underneath the rubble, brushing cart sized boulders from his shoulders like they were pebbles. His expression was one of unreadable calm.

"You are wasting my time," he said, shouldering his axe-sword.

Nanashi glared at him. "I couldn't care less about wasting your time."

"But do you care about wasting his?" Lexaeus said, gesturing towards Jack. A trickle of blood escaped from the corner of his mouth. "Your friend's life force has almost left him."

Nanashi twirled his lance, anger blinding him to the obvious fact that he could not win. "I'll have to finish this quickly then."

Lexaeus held up a hand. "No need. Take your friend and leave." Nanashi was so taken aback that he dropped his stance, allowing his lance to hang loosely at his side.

"What?"

"Take your friend. If you hurry, he might live."

"And leave you to destroy the gate? Not a chance."

"There is nothing you can do to prevent that. If you run I will destroy the gate. If you stay I will destroy you, and then the gate. You will not hinder me for more than a moment. And then the gate will be broken, and you and your friend will be dead. Refer to it as a tactical retreat, if that tastes better going down. I'll even give you something in return."

"What?"

"A head start."

Nanashi opened his mouth to argue, but Lexaeus turned his back. "You have five minutes."

"You son of a-"

"Three minutes."

It went against everything that Nanashi stood for. He knew he'd never forgive himself for running. Nevertheless, he dismissed his lance, hefted Jack onto his back, and ran from temple. When he glanced back he could see Lexaeus, true to his word, stalwartly waiting in front of the gate.

Dorothy and Snow step backed slowly, keeping the tower behind them and the horde of Heartless in front of them. Snow was panting, still exhausted from the fight. Dorothy was almost completely out of magic. She barely had enough left to summon her Ring Dagger. Not that it would do much good against a thousand Heartless.

"Dorothy, we can fight this many, right? As long as we work together?" Snow said, clutching at her snowman necklace. Dorothy was pleased to see that the ARM was still in one piece, although it would probably needed some repairs. It could be used a handful more times before breaking, and even then it would not be at full power. A witch with no magic and a damaged ARM. Hardly enough to go toe to toe with thousands of Heartless.

"Nope," Dorothy said. Snow glanced at her, panic beginning to show through. Dorothy couldn't lie to her. There was no chance they could take on the Heartless. Even if they hadn't spent most of their magic fighting Larxene, there were just too many.

"Hold them for as long as you can," Dorothy said, turning to face the tower. Snow didn't argue. She summoned her damaged snowman guardian and prepared to take on the Heartless alone. Dorothy headed immediately to the door of the tower. It was remarkably nondescript, but Dorothy knew that it had several powerful enchantments on it. Luckily, as one of Kaldea's best ARM hunters, disarming locking spells was one of Dorothy's specialties. She set to work, grinning slightly as she recognized several charms of her own invention. This would be easier than she thought. She set to work, blocking out the sound of battle behind her. Fighting wouldn't help, not this time. Running was their only option. She repeated the thought, hoping she'd eventually convince herself.

Dorothy calmed down a bit once she'd disabled the first few charms. Breaking and entering to gather valuable ARM. She was in her element. She frowned slightly as she realized how similar her job description was to Nanashi's. Then, the lock changed. What had seemed easily breakable just a moment before had become much more complex. The locking charms seemed to multiply before her eyes, interlocking in bizarre and seemingly impossible ways. The shear complexity of the charms and counter charms bewildered even her. Dorothy got a sinking feeling as she realized – there was no way to break through the lock. The only way through was with the proper key. Which she didn't have.

Dorothy pounded on the door fruitlessly, wondering how she should break the news to Snow. Dorothy started as the door suddenly shown white, illuminated by a pearl beam that passed over her shoulder, directly into the door's keyhole. The bright light was dazzling, and Dorothy spun around, following the beam back into the dark of the forest. It seemed to have materialized out of the darkness. Then she heard it. A loud click, and the squeaking of rusty hinges. There was no way. Somehow, the door had unlocked. She was curious, but also smart enough to know that now was not the time to be curious. Whatever stroke of luck led to the unlocking of the door was irrelevant.

"Time to go!" she shouted. Snow, who had summoned a wall of snowmen to hold back the wave of Heartless, dismissed her Guardian and rushed towards her. Immediately the Heartless gave chase. Dorothy ushered her inside, then took a last look into the forest. It was no good – the Heartless had completely cut the edge of the clearing from view. Whoever had unlocked the door for her was gone.

Dorothy slammed the door shut. The latch settled with a satisfying click. Dorothy was sure that it was now re-sealed. The Heartless wouldn't be able to get in. She hoped. They were safe, for now.

"Intruders!" A shrill voice shouted.

It took Nanashi longer to exit the temple than he liked. By the time he made it over the newly created cliffs and shear drops, he had almost wasted all of Lexaeus' head start. He almost regretted cursing at him. Almost.

As soon as Nanashi set foot outside the ground began to rumble ominously again. Lexaeus must have set to work brute-forcing his way through the gate. Nanashi estimated he'd be through in a couple of minutes.

Nanashi glanced over his shoulder. He wished he hadn't. Whatever illusion that the Kaldeans had cast to make the horizon look normal was beginning to break. Long spider-web cracks blossomed across the sky like a broken window. The mass of Heartless could sense that the barrier was weakening, and worked themselves up into a frenzy anticipating fresh blood – or whatever it was that Heartless did to people. Nanashi had observed the Heartless a few times when he was rounding up his thieves. They attacked like animals – but they didn't eat their victims. There was never any blood. He wasn't even sure if the Heartless killed. Whatever they did was worse.

The cracks in the barrier were widening. The defensive spell was weak enough in some places that Heartless began to trickle through. Even if he wasn't carrying Jack, he wouldn't be able to outrun them. He immediately pulled out Andarta, then cursed under his breath. Andarta only worked if he could properly visualize where he was going. He didn't know any place in Kaldea well enough to safely teleport to, and it was a safe bet that all of the places he did know were taken by the darkness.

Nanashi was considering the risk of teleporting into a wall when he remembered the ARM that the captain of the guard gave to Jack. He gently but quickly lowered Jack to the ground and began searching his pockets. It didn't take long to find the ARM he was looking for. He activated it, and a miniature map of Kaldea spread out on the ground before him. He could see the still mist-filled forest and Kaldea's capital city. Beyond that, nothing looked familiar. The entire map was ringed with an oily-black mass, dotted with thousands of yellow eyes. The map began flashing a red light at their current location. A breach was imminent.

"I need a place to hide," Nanashi said, searching the map. A bright blue light began pulsing on the map, about half a mile northeast of their location. "What's that, a safe house?" Nanashi said to no one in particular. The map zoomed to that location, displaying an otherwise unremarkable group of boulders in the middle of an equally unremarkable field. "That doesn't look very safe."

The map flashed brighter, which Nanashi took as the map indicating that, yes, it was indeed safe.

"Close enough," Nanashi said, hoisting Jack onto his shoulders and setting off at a run. He thought he could hear the Heartless giving chase. He didn't turn to look.

Nanashi's lungs were burning. But he didn't slow down. Despite his injuries and general exhaustion from the battle with Lexaeus, he was moving at a fairly swift clip. From his years of being a thief he knew of no better motivator than being chased. He was grateful when he finally burst into the clearing that the Kaldean map had shown him. His legs were screaming, and he was sure that he couldn't have gone even a few steps more. He practically fell to his knees as he struggled to pull the map ARM from his pocket.

"Okay, what now," he said breathlessly, activating the map. He placed it in the center of the clearing, wondering what in the world it expected him to do next. The clearing was remarkably normal. Just three boulders of varying size but otherwise being, well, normal hunks of rock. It was a little disappointing, actually.

Once activated, a beam of light shot from the ARM, but instead of displaying a map of Kaldea, it shot directly onto the middle boulder, revealing a silver door. Nanashi sighed audibly. For once Kaldean magic was straightforward. No tricks. No hundred-step process. No distrust bordering on paranoia. Something nice and simple. Go here. Go through the door. Nanashi was immediately suspicious.

He tried the door. Obviously it was locked.

"Why! Can't! Anything! Be! Easy!" Nanashi said, punctuating each word with a punch on the door. He ended up with throbbing knuckles and a locked door. After fuming for a few seconds, he noticed lines of gold trickling from the edges of the door. They flowed towards the center, congregating into three puddles. Eventually, the gold puddles formed themselves into three shapes. It took only a second for Nanashi to recognize them. His Griffin Lance, Electric Eye, and Gymnote ARM. Why was the door showing him this? Unless…

"No way," Nanashi said, taking a step back, as though the door could literally snatch his ARM from him. "You can't honestly expect me to give you my ARM." Three slots appeared in the door. Apparently it did.

Nanashi was tempted to leave. There had to be another way. One that didn't involve him coughing up all of his ARM. That's when he noticed two things. The first thing he noticed was Jack. He was deathly pale. All of the color had drained from his lips, and his breathing was so slow that it was barely perceptible. Nanashi wasn't sure he'd last much longer. That's when he noticed the second thing. Just at the horizon but getting closer all the time – a wave of Heartless. Thousands. Tens of thousands. Nanashi wasn't sure how he'd stayed ahead of them. Perhaps the Kaldeans had more than one defensive spell at their borders. For once the Kaldean's paranoia was actually paying off. But the last of the spells they'd placed seemed to have finally worn off. The tide of Heartless was now moving so quickly they'd be there in minutes.

Reluctantly, Nanashi removed his ARM, holding them in his palm. A second glance at Jack was all the motivation he needed to place the ARM in the silver door. "Take good care of them," he said. The door slots snapped shut, and the gold lines shot towards the edge, forming into a small, three dimensional knob. Nanashi grabbed Jack, then stepped inside.

Nanashi slammed the silver door shut. There was no locking mechanism, but he was sure that it was sealed. Nanashi was standing in a narrow hallway – just wide enough that he could carry Jack on his shoulders without scraping him against the sides. The walls were shimmery and semi-transparent giving the world outside an underwater look.

Nanashi strode down the hallway, his footsteps echoing loudly, giving the illusion that the space was much bigger than it actually was. But Nanashi was too occupied with the word outside to pay much notice to his footsteps. What with him carrying Jack on his shoulders and his general exhaustion from his battle with Lexaeus, Nanashi was moving at what could generously be described as a shuffle. But judging from the landscape, he was moving at a blistering pace. Each footstep seemed like fifty, and by the time he had recovered enough to move at a slight jog, the world outside was nothing but a blur.

After a while the hallway widened somewhat into a small anteroom. Nanashi stopped, feeling slightly dizzy, and decided to check the map again. The map blossomed onto the ground, and Nanashi searched for the two small figures that represented him and Jack. It took him awhile, since they were nowhere near the field and bunch of stones that lead into the secret passage. Finally he found them (the map helpfully flashed a marker at their location for a few moments) somewhere deep within the mist-filled forest.

"Why are we back here?" Nanashi muttered to himself. The map flashed again, and a glowing blue line began tracing along the map, starting at the clump of boulders and traveling in a slight zig-zag to their current location in the forest. It continued on, eventually stopping at a small, moon shaped tower at the north end of the forest.

"What's so special about that tower?" Nanashi asked. The map apparently had had enough of his questions, and it deactivated itself. Nanashi looked down the hallway and back over his shoulders. Both ends were completely shrouded in shadow. Nanashi felt slightly reluctant to continue, but the map hadn't led him astray yet. And anyway, Jack needed medical attention. Maybe there was someone in that tower who could help him.

Nanashi hoisted Jack onto his shoulders, and trying not to look outside, continued down the hallway. He was slightly surprised that there hadn't been any forks yet – just a seemingly straight walk. It dawned on him that the passage itself had already chosen his destination for him. He wasn't sure if that thought was comforting or not.

The doorway seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Nanashi slid to a stop, his nose inches from the closed door. From his position on the map, it should have taken several hours for him to reach the tower. But he couldn't have been traveling for more than ten minutes. Not one to question an excellent stroke of luck, he reached out and pulled the door. The door, shockingly, wasn't locked. A second stroke of luck. Nanashi's hopes for a third were immediately dashed as a shrill, angry voice shouted, "Intruders!" He felt a sharp blow to his head, and crumpled to the ground.

"Intruders!" A shrill voice shouted.

Dorothy spun around. Perched atop a large wooden desk was a stout suit of armor, its short feet dangling above the ground. The armor jumped on top of the wooden desk, but even then the crest of his helmet only reached to Dorothy's chin.

"Oh, how cute!" Snow said.

The suit of armor clanked indignantly. "I am the guardian of the Tower of the Mond!" with that, a massive, double-sided battle axe appeared in its gauntlets. The axe was bigger than its head, and it swung it with shocking dexterity.

Both Snow and Dorothy stepped backwards, their palms raised.

"We're not intruders," Dorothy said. "I'm Kaldean."

"Please, we need your help," Snow said, taking an extra step back.

The knight swung his axe. "A likely story! Even if you are Kaldean, you're not authorized to be here. Trust me, I know!" He gave his axe another swing, losing his balance in the process. He toppled from the desk, exploding on the ground and scattering his armor around the room.

"Marvelous!" The armor – or, the armor's helm, at any rate – said, bouncing on the ground. "Look what you made me do! Now both of you stay where you are, and I might go easy on you. That means you, miss!"

Dorothy had already ascended the first flight of a wooden staircase that spiraled around the edge of the room. She'd never been in the Tower before. It was off limits for most witches, since the ARM it contained were deemed too powerful and dangerous to be used in anything but the direst of circumstances. Several of the ARM that Dorothy had discovered were stored in here. Now that Kaldea was in the direst circumstances it had ever been in, she reasoned it was safe to take them back.

Snow, meanwhile, was helping the suit of armor pull itself together.

"I can do it!" the armor said, snatching the boot from Snow as she offered it. Still, it accepted her help as she pulled it to its feet.

"Thank you miss, though you're still not allowed to be here!"

"We're sorry," Snow said. "But we needed to hide in here. There are Heartless outside."

"And Chess Pieces!" the armor said, straightening its helm.

"We took care of them," Dorothy said, over her shoulder. Well, technically Larxene took care of them, but Dorothy didn't have any qualms about taking credit for it. She slid open a drawer that was set into the wall, and examined the ARM within. "No need to thank us." Suddenly, the massive axe flew over her shoulder, imbedding itself deep into the wood grained wall. The suit of armor jumped to the second level in a single bound.

"You're not allowed in there! I mean it!" it shouted, pulling the axe out. Apparently it meant business.

Dorothy looked the armor up and down. "Who are you?"

"I am Anul! I'm charged with protecting the Tower and all of the ARM within from any and all that seek to use them, save for special permission from the high command. Which does not include you, miss." It jumped up and slapped her hand away from the ARM, then made to shove her back down to the first level.

Dorothy had had just about enough. She was exhausted, injured, and her home was being invaded by at least two different armies. She was not about to put up with a low-level Guardian ARM with a superiority complex.

"Listen ARM, we've got a crisis situation here. Kaldea's been invaded, and we're the only ones who can help. We need supplies, and we need ARM, so as a Kaldean I order you to back off!"

It was hard to tell, but Dorothy was certain that if Anul had a jaw, it would be hanging open. Satisfied, she turned back to the countless powerful ARM at her disposal. She had barely grasped the nearest drawer when her hand snapped backwards, ensnared by metal rope, courtesy of the low-level ARM with the superiority complex. Anul lassoed her other hand, and before she knew it, both of her hands were tied behind her back. With a single tug Anul yanked her back down to the first floor.

"Hey!" Dorothy shouted, but Anul apparently had had enough of the mysterious witch with a superiority complex.

"You are under arrest!" Anul said. "I'll have to report you directly to the Kaldean elders! Yes, even you, miss," he said, glancing over at Snow.

"She didn't mean any harm!" Snow chastised, and for a moment it looked like Anul might relent, but then Snow made the mistake of taking a step towards him, and Anul quickly bound her hands too. Apparently it took its job very seriously.

"Now you two sit still, while I contact the elders," Anul said. "Although, I might end up having to detain you here for quite some time – I haven't heard anything from the elders for several days. If you both are very good I might even untie you for tea."

Dorothy grit her teeth. She wasn't going to get anywhere by arguing with Anul. Dorothy struggled against her bonds. They responded by growing tighter, and snaking further up her arms almost to her shoulders.

"I wouldn't struggle, if I were you," Anul warned. "If you become cocooned it'll take me several hours to cut you free."

Before Dorothy could respond the door swung open. Dorothy panicked, thinking that the Heartless had found a way inside, but surprisingly, out stumbled Nanashi carrying Jack on his shoulders. How in the world did he get past the Heartless?

"Intruders!" Anul shouted. He jumped up, and using the hilt of his axe rapped Nanashi smartly on the back of the head. Nanashi wobbled, then fell forward. Jack, it seemed, was already unconscious. And from the looks of it, barely alive.

"Jack!" Snow shouted, making her way over to him. "He's really hurt!" she said, struggling to reach her Healing Angel ARM. Dorothy knelt down next to her. She wasn't a healer, but she could tell that his magic was critically low. The cuts and bruising over his body indicated that his magic was no longer mitigating the damage from his wounds. He needed immediate medical attention. Even then, it might be too late.

Anul was busy tying Nanashi's hands behind his back.

"You need to free us, right now," Dorothy demanded.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Anul said, looking Nanashi up and down and deciding to tie his legs together for good measure.

"He is going to die!" Dorothy shouted, nodding at Jack. "Unless you help us now! Look at his ARM! That Guardian was given to him by a Kaldean elder. Do you think he'd have that if he was an enemy?"

The armor rubbed the back of his helm. He examined Jack's Mehito ARM. "This ARM is from an elder. In that case, I suppose…" He rung his gauntlets together nervously. "Fine. I'll release you two. But I'm keeping him tied up." He pointed at Nanashi, who was stirring slightly.

"Fair enough," Dorothy said, turning so Anul could undo her bonds. Anul delicately sliced them with his axe.

"And I'm keeping my eyes on both of you," Anul said, cutting Snow's bonds.

Snow immediately pulled out her Healing Angel ARM and used it. But her magic was still too weak, and Jack's injuries to great. His breathing did grow stronger, but he was still very pale. They were going to need something stronger.

Dorothy immediately ascended the stairs. "Where do you keep your healing ARM?" she said, scanning the rows of shelves and drawers.

Anul bounded after her, still suspicious of her intentions. "Healing ARM are stored on the third floor, shelves thirty-seven to two hundred and eight. Dorothy paused. That was a lot of ARM to sort through, and most were so ancient and rare that even she didn't know what they did.

"Anul, do you know what these ARM do?"

"Of course," Anul said.

"Then help me find an ARM that will heal someone who's close to death."

Anul thought for a moment. It began pulling open drawers randomly, lifting up his visor to get a better look inside. "This one should do it," he said, holding a pendant out to Dorothy. "This is the Last Breath ARM. It will heal any injury, no matter how severe, as long as it is used during the patient's last breath. Otherwise, its effects are fatal."

Dorothy, who had already grabbed the ARM and was heading down to Jack, paused. "How do I know if it's his last breath?"

Anul shrugged.

Dorothy rubbed her chin, thinking of her options. It was no wonder that ARM was stored in here. It could easily do more damage than good. Still, most healing ARM were actually Darkness ARM. It was rare to find one that didn't have some sort of horrible drawback. That's why Snow's Healing Angel ARM was such a rarity. The ones that didn't have a drawback took large amounts of magic to use – more than any of them had left at the moment. Looking at all of the options, the Last Breath ARM was potentially the worst solution, but it was the best one she had.

Dorothy knelt down next to Jack, watching his breathing intently. The rise and fall of his chest had gotten slower. But she had no idea how much longer until his last breath. Every time his chest would swell she'd feel an urge to use the ARM, and each time she felt relief and panic as his chest fell and then rose again. After a few minutes his breathing grew staccato and erratic. Several times Dorothy made to activate the ARM, certain that it was Jack's last breath, only to check her movement at the last moment. And sure enough, Jack would take another breath. After a few minutes his breathing grew weaker, but more even. Dorothy groaned. This was impossible. She was either going to use the ARM too early, or miss her only chance to save him. The waiting was unbearable. She had to know when Jack's last breath would be. And there was only one way she could know for sure.

With shaking hands she summoned her ring dagger. Snow's eyes widened, but Dorothy simply shook her head. She gripped the dagger tight and raised it up, waiting for Jack's chest to swell. Then, she stabbed him in the heart.