absent silhouette;

[walkthedawn]

[The sky in Never Was never changes and for once, Riku wouldn't mind for a change in scenery. He trudges through these streets every day and always sees the same things pass him by. Dusks, no longer a threat to him, slither along the streets in a never-ending cycle, always there, always on schedule. It's ridiculously easy to explore the city based

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[illicitresearch]

[There is nothing now, a deeper dearth. No body, no heart. Just the faint lingering impressions of an existence.

Yet power still latches to memory, and memory which holds singularity and sentience can still extend and take hold of passing life, leeching to its grounded presence...body, heart, being.

This one is familiar, so familiar. And so memory once called Zexion reaches out for it in desperation, harnessing his illusions around a reality and dragging the keybearer within.

A whirlwind of pages, ink, dark whispers in the silence.]

Darkling. Xehanort. Friend. Foe. Chosen one. Riku.

[walkthedawn]

[He can smell it, can smell...something there, an inky darkness that's far too familiar-

Riku touches the book symbol, tracing it briefly, before he's dragged right into the symbol and into nothingness, words and pages surrounding him and spinning.

He doesn't need to lift his blindfold in order to see what's going on.]

Zexion?

[illicitresearch]

[The source of existence has answered his call. Responded, and that's enough.

Yes, that's right. A name. Ienzo, and an X. Zexion.

There is power in words, and power especially in the naming of things.

In the void there is no sound, no voice, but there are words, etching a fine-handed script across the scattered pages.]

I am.

[walkthedawn]

[Yes, that's him, and Riku immediately begins trying to figure out a way to gain his footing in the dark so he can find him.]

How? You're dead.