Silence.

Emptiness.

…Sinking.

…Drowning…

Breathe.

A gasp.

Pain.

Not enough…

Breathe.

Shallow breaths.

Too fast.

Slow, slower…

…Calm, deep breaths.

Awaken.

He opens his eyes.

And sees nothing but Darkness.

…Is it Darkness?

Is it Light?

L I G H T

It brightens. Burns his eyes.

He flinches away.

Be not afraid.

The light fades, dimming itself until it is pleasant and comfortable to look at.

He can finally see.

He is floating, resting on his back. He pushes himself upright. There is nothing to push against.

A vortex of light swirls around him. It forms a funnel leading down through the darkness. Far, far below, at the base of the vortex, rests a round window of stained glass.

It looks familiar.

He allows himself to sink.

The vortex carries him down to the window. It sets him down gently, feet touching the glass.

The window holds his weight with ease.

Curious, he takes a step.

His boots barely make a sound on the glass.

He takes another step.

And another.

And another.

Slowly, he wanders around the panel, studies every part of the image from up close.

Every part of it seems important, in some way.

The border is lined with Nobody symbols. The half-moon shape is filled with an eerily accurate depiction of the Round Room. The circles show four of his other selves – his counterpart, Terra, the Young Master, and his former self. The pane at the top depicts Kingdom Hearts, his Kingdom Hearts, the false moon that he created.

Who are you?

“I’m what’s left” he murmurs, the words feeling familiar, although he is uncertain when he first spoke them. He is nothing, an anomaly, a nonexistence. “Or… Maybe I’m all there ever was.”

He kneels to touch the glass below. It feels cold against his hand. He runs his hand along the smooth surface, caressing the images in the circular panes. His other selves. Who is he, if not the piece that remains when they are taken away?

Or, perhaps… He is the sum of these parts.

Perhaps it is more complicated than that.

Who are you?

He rises to his feet. How can he answer that question? He hesitates, his voice quivers as he answers.

“I am…”

Xehanort?

Terra?

Ansem?

“…Xemnas.”

The ground shakes, and for a split second, he fears the glass might shatter and drop him into the endless abyss.

That doesn’t happen.

Instead, two rectangular panels rise from the window. The window is, somehow, still whole. The images on these panels are different.

What is it you seek?

The panel on the left shows a world he knows. When he takes a closer look, he recognizes people he has hurt in the past. Some of them turn away from him. A few reach out.

He reaches out to touch the panel, and flinches when it ripples like water at his touch.

Connection. A chance to repair some of the damage you have caused.

Is this what you seek?

He hesitates and pulls away.

The panel on the right shows an unfamiliar world. It is filled with fog, with silhouettes of people he doesn’t recognize. In the middle of the image, he sees himself, alone.

He reaches out to touch the panel. This one, too, ripples like water at his touch. This time, he doesn’t flinch.

A blank slate. A chance to start anew.

Is this what you seek?

Again, he hesitates. Again, he pulls away.

Neither option looks particularly appealing to him.

A blank slate… A fresh start. A chance to be his own person. But he will have to do it alone, and he is sick of being alone. He has learned to hate the feeling of loneliness.

Connection… A chance for redemption. Along this path, there are others who will help him. But for every person who would offer him their hand, there is one who would turn away, at best. At worst… He knows there are some who would want him dead.

There is no correct choice.

He reaches for one of the panels.

Is this what you seek?

“…Yes.”

Then, go forth and seek it.

He pulls his hand back as the panel starts to change. The image on the panel fades into a black-and-white vortex similar to the one that carried him down to the round window. The other panel disappears entirely. Slowly, the remaining panel grows, until it is the size of a door. The vortex stops swirling and solidifies into a mirror.

He studies his reflection. Reaches out to touch it.

His hand sinks into the surface of the mirror.

His reflection closes its eyes and disappears. What is left is a doorway.

He pulls his hand back and looks around the frame. The other side is still a mirror, reflecting his confused expression back at him.

It seems there is only one way to find out what lies behind the door.

He steps through the mirror.

…And enters a free fall.

He wakes up on a cold stone floor.

This is where he needs to be.

There is no turning back now. He can only move forward.

He can only hope the future will be kind to him.