After explaining that he had lost his memory and only knowing that "Xehanort" was a name that meant something to him, the Nobodies had taken the revelation of Traxer's real name surprisingly well. Vexen suggested that Xehanort, whoever that was, may have even been responsible for his amnesiac state, but since he couldn't remember, he had just assumed it was his name.

Now, Traxer stood in a dusty library located inside the old mansion, thumbing through the books while the other Nobodies investigated the rest of the building. It apparently had been abandoned for quite some time, but Xaldin and Zexion had discovered a populated town on the other side of the woods. This town was apparently known as Twilight Town and was a thriving community with plenty of shops, homes, and a train system.

Traxer hadn't been to the world before, and something seemed strange about it compared to other places he'd visited. The book he currently looked through may have yielded an answer: according to legend, legend he knew to be true, there were two realms: The Realm of Light and the Realm of Darkness. However, this world was said to lie in between the two realms, much as he recalled Eraqus teaching him that the Land of Departure was. He flipped through the book, scanning over its pages in search of any other noteworthy lore that could be useful to him. He didn't bother looking up as the library's door swung open with a bang, followed by stomping feet.

"Terra!" Xigbar snapped, his voice sharp.

"Traxer," he corrected without diverting his attention from his book. He heard the sound of Xigbar's arrowgun being summoned, and he turned his head slightly to meet his company's fuming gaze.

"I'd say you're angry, but that requires a heart," Traxer continued flatly. "And we both know you don't." Xigbar scowled at him with the arrowgun aimed at his head, finger on the trigger.

"You really think I'll just sweep all this under the rug? You're not Xehanort. And I'll make you pay!" Traxer sighed and shut his book, then put it back on the shelf.

"Go ahead," he said as he turned toward Xigbar. "You'd be doing me a favor. But you can't, and you know it. You off me, you'll never hear the end of it from the others. They won't trust you. You can't hurt me, but I can't hurt you either." He smirked. "Might as well admit we're at a stalemate." Xigbar's bloodthirsty glare didn't soften, but he lowered his weapon.

"Guess so, kiddo," he scoffed, dismissing it. "You've gotta play nice. You've got nowhere to go, no friends, no master, no Keyblade..." He laughed at Traxer's glare. "What, you thought that was some big secret? As if. You would have used it as soon as the Heartless showed up. And you still couldn't hold the old coot back." Before Traxer could make any kind of rebuttal, the sound of approaching footsteps silenced them both. Vexen entered the library and his brow rose at the sight of Xigbar.

"I told you to investigate the second floor," he said a bit shortly. "What are you doing here?"

"Hadn't found anything interesting, so I thought I'd come see what our buddy is up to," Xigbar replied. Vexen didn't appear amused.

"Get back to it. I want every inch of this place combed through." Xigbar sighed and shot a look at Traxer, then left with a brisk stride. Vexen shook his head and returned his attention to the other Nobody. "Have you found anything of note?"

"One of the books has some interesting lore," he replied. "Something about this world being located in between the Realms of Light and Darkness." Vexen frowned thoughtfully.

"Interesting... Why did we come here of all places? Could it be that, as incomplete beings, we were rejected by the Realm of Light, but could not be sent to the Realm of Darkness? The worlds have no place for us, so they sent us here instead of us completely fading from existence." He scratched his chin. "Fascinating. Truly fascinating. But that brings up the dilemma of where we should set our base of operations. We can't stay here- the mansion may be abandoned, but we don't want to draw the attention of the townsfolk." He paused in thought. "If we could return to Radiant Garden... but how? Travel between worlds is impossible." Traxer frowned, fighting with himself on whether he should divulge the information he knew. Ultimately, he didn't want to cause any trouble for Twilight Town, and at least they were known in Radiant Garden.

"I... think I know a way," he said hesitantly, capturing Vexen's interest.

"Oh? What do you have in mind?"

"Corridors of Darkness," he said. "I... I think I have the power to summon paths between worlds. But they basically take us through the Realm of Darkness, and even if we don't have hearts, it could still be dangerous to our bodies. We'd need some sort of protection."

"I see," Vexen nodded. "Then I'll take over the library. You see if you can find something to help us."

"All right. In that case, excuse me." With that, Traxer left the library and made his way to the small clearing in front of the mansion, and he sighed.

"What else am I supposed to do?" He asked of no one in particular. He had nowhere else to go, and the final remark Xehanort left in his voice... "Thirteen of Darkness. What's that supposed to mean?" It was an order toward Xigbar, but why? He feared what might happen if he left the Nobodies alone without someone to keep an eye on Xigbar. So, for the time being, he figured his best course of action was to continue earning the trust of his new companions in hope that he would be able to make things right. With that, he called upon the power he knew dwelled within him- Xehanort had made sure of it- and summoned a Dark Corridor.

"Just for now," he mumbled, and he passed through it.

He emerged into dusty, weak sunlight and howling winds passing through the valleys of the Keyblade Graveyard. He coughed and shook his head as he got his bearings, scanning around the plateau he stood on. He'd met Xehanort here several times, so perhaps he would find what he was looking for here. He made his way around the mountain clawing at the sky and came to a cavern of sorts, and he peeked in to find a collection of things he assumed Xehanort had left behind. There appeared to be a chess set, a few strange vials and flasks, an old book, and...

"What in the world?" He squinted in the dim light at the sight of a large black box with silver accents and a red design on the top. "What's this supposed to be?" He tried to force the top open, but it didn't budge, and he noticed a lock that refused to grant him access. He grumbled something about wishing he had his Keyblade and scanned over the rest of the cavern's contents. A glint of silver caught his eye and, upon closer inspection, he realized it was exactly what he had come looking for. He picked it up and unfolded a long black coat with silver chains.

"There you are." He carried it out of the cavern and shrugged it on, zipping it up to his collarbone and down to his knees. "Now we just have to figure out what this thing is made of..." He glanced out toward the vast clearing where he had lost his friends. Maybe he'd find some clue as to what had happened to them.

With some effort, he climbed down the plateau and trekked in silence save the wind, passing through the trench that had given him the fight of his life the last time he was here. Thankfully, there were no twisters full of Unversed this time, leaving only eerie quiet. He passed the center spire of stone and made his way toward the end of the trench, coming to the small passage leading to the vast graveyard of Keyblades.

"You're something else." He spun around, startled by a voice, and he found Vanitas leaning back against the stone walls, his arms crossed and a foul smirk on his face. Traxer dropped into a defensive stance, but the dark entity didn't make any kind of move. "I mean, I gotta admit it. I didn't think the old man's plan for you would actually work. There was no way you could be that stupid." Traxer stiffened, and Vanitas just laughed at him. "Oh, am I making you angry? We both know you aren't, not really. That requires a heart, which you no longer have." He shook his head. "I- of all people, ME- I gave you a second chance. I warned you. And you STILL messed up again." He shoved off the stone and approached Traxer, but he didn't summon his Keyblade. His posture was rather loose.

"What do you want?" Traxer demanded.

"With you? Nothing. You're worthless. You're more of a nuisance to your friends than you are to me now." Traxer's eyes widened and he grit his teeth.

"If you so much as touch them, I'll end you," he growled. Vanitas laughed at him and shrugged.

"Don't worry, I have my plans for them." He tapped his chest with one finger. "As long as I can keep tabs on them, I don't care what they do, not right now. They need time, and I can be patient. I waited four years, and... in a way, even longer." He snorted and started walking a circle around his adversary.

"What do you mean?" Traxer snapped at him.

"Hmph," Vanitas chuckled. "There's a lot about your friend Ventus that you don't know." He stopped as Traxer turned to him. He snapped his fingers and a strange orb of light appeared in his hand. "You think I let Ventus get all his memories back? No way. Where's the fun in that?" He glanced from the orb to Traxer. "But... in a way, I almost feel sorry for you. You've got nothing. You ARE nothing. So... I can be nice. I'll show you a part of your friend's memory. Then you can see that he's turned his back on his friends before and left them to die. So what's stopping him from doing it again?"

"Ven would never do that!" Traxer argued. "There's no way. You're lying."

"Don't believe me?" Vanitas held the orb out toward him. "Just touch this and you'll see. What have you got to lose?" Traxer glared at him, but he had a point. What did he have to lose?

He cautiously approached the manic boy, coming only close enough to reach toward the orb. He hesitated. Was this really a piece of Ventus's memory? Was it fair of him to look into his friend's past? But perhaps it would tell him something that he could use to help Ventus, and he refused to believe that kind boy would ever betray his companions. He chewed the inside of his lip and stretched his fingers out, and they brushed against the orb. Immediately, light overtook his vision and thrust him into another place and time.

He found himself huddled in the crevices of a plateau, and he was fairly certain he was in the Keyblade Graveyard. It was ominously dark above, and he could hear the shouts and cries of a huge battle nearby. When he looked down, he realized he wasn't in his own body. He was looking through Ventus's eyes, experiencing whatever this was through his friend's senses.

Ventus crept forward and peered over the edge of the plateau, gazing down with a heavy heart at hundreds, if not thousands of Keyblade wielders locked in deadly combat with each other. Ventus knew many of them, from what Traxer could gather. Dropped Keyblades and fallen wielders littered the landscape, with more joining them every moment.

"I can't just sit here..." Ventus mumbled to himself. He sounded even younger than Traxer recalled. "How am I supposed to just let this happen? Those are my friends down there!" A sound like a poof caught his attention, and he turned to find a cat-like creature had joined him. Ventus's memory told Traxer that this creature was called "Chirithy."

"Remember what Master Ava said," Chirithy told him. "You have to wait. You can't fight here." Ventus was near tears, his heart hurt so much as it was torn. But he nodded and shrunk back into his crevice, shutting his eyes and covering his ears in an attempt to block out the horrors of the war.

Traxer snapped back to reality so fast and suddenly, it made his head hurt. He spun around and scanned his surroundings frantically, but he was alone. Vanitas had disappeared without a trace, and silence reigned around him. He panted slightly as he got a grip on his bearings, back in his own body with his own senses. Being in a Ventus's head had been jarring enough, let alone everything he'd experienced in such a brief moment. Dazed, he stumbled through the trench until he saw the first few lifeless Keys on the edge of his vision, and it finally clicked in his head.

"Was that... the Keyblade War?" he mumbled. But that was impossible. Ventus couldn't have been alive back then- it was hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago. But what else could explain so many Keyblade wielders being there at once? Traxer covered his face with his hands and sighed heavily. Could Vanitas have just made it up? But it was so clear, and the little details... Ventus's age, the little cat-thing Chirithy, and whoever Master Ava was... Was Vanitas capable of that? And if it had been real, then that meant Ventus had been through way more than he could ever imagine. Yes, he had apparently been unable to fight with whoever his companions were at the time, but it didn't seem to be by his own choice. It only piqued his curiosity as to who Master Ava was.

He shook his head and looked out to the legions of Keys, and he decided to push what he had found out to the back of his mind. Whatever that was, he couldn't do anything about it now, and if he was to do anything for his friend, he had to clean up his own mess first. With that thought, he summoned a Dark Corridor and returned to Twilight Town.

Author's Note: New content revealed, new story points here. I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT VEN'S PAST.