Helied back to his room, his body dragging with the exhaustion of the past two days. His mind raced with the events that had transpired—the fall of Ahe Wise, the shadowy mao ehe old man’s survival, and the rapidly esg situation with Xehanort and his apprentices. Yet, at that moment, all he wanted was rest.

  Wheered his room, the sight of Cloud’s body sprawled across his bed greeted him. Helios let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. ‘Of course,’ he thought. With nowhere else to go, he grabbed a spare bhrew it on the floor, and colpsed onto it. The hard surface beh him wasn’t ideal, but he was so tired he didn’t care. Within moments, sleep overtook him.

  Meanwhile, at Ansem’s castle a few hours ter, Xehanort sat at a workstation, his golden eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. His fingers danced across the keyboard with practiced precision, finalizing the doctored video footage he had prepared for this very moment. The sound of approag footsteps pulled his attention from the s, auro see Braig entering the room.

  Braig was followed closely by Even, Ienzo, Din, and Aeleus. The four apprentices carried a heavy air of despondency, their expressions clouded with fusion and hurt. Xehanort smiled faintly, a calcuted gesture that veyed just the right amount of shared sadness.

  “Ah,” Xehanort said, standing as the group entered. “I see Braig has told you of Master Ansem’s… departure. I was as shocked as you are. I couldn’t believe he would abandon us so easily.”

  His words hung in the air, elig a range of reas from the apprentices. Din and Aeleus exged uneasy gheir stoic facades crag uhe weight of Xehanort’s statement. Ienzo’s small hands ched at his sides, his youthful face twisted in disbelief. Even, however, stepped forward, his usual posed demeaniving way to fiery determination.

  “I demand proof,” Even said sharply, his voice cutting through the tension. “I refuse to believe this without evidence. Master Ansem would never abandon us—not without good reason.”

  Xehanort nodded solemnly, his expression one of uanding. “Of course,” he said, gesturing to the monitor on his workstation. “I felt the same way, Even. That’s why I forhe man before he left and the thing he said shocked me. I reviewed the security footage and found the insta was not a pleasant versation, but I’ll let you see for yourselves.”

  He pressed a key, and the s flickered to life, dispying a video file. The footage showed a versatioween Ahe Wise and Xehanort. In the doctored video, Ansem’s voice carried a tone of disdain as he said, “I’ve grown tired of looking after my apprehis castle, these experiments—they mean nothing to me now. I’ve wasted too much time on those orphans. It’s time for me to follow my heart and seek something greater beyond this world.”

  The Xehanort in the video pleaded with him, his voice den with desperation. “Master Ansem, please resider. We ge whatever it is you find distasteful. Just don’t leave us.”

  But Ansem’s response was cold and unyielding. “You ot ge what is broken, Xehanort. My time here has ended.” The video showed him turning and opening the unstable dark corridor, his form disappearing into the swirling darkness.

  As the footage ehe appreood in stunned silence. Even’s face twisted in anguish, his hand trembling as he gripped the edge of the table. Ienzo’s wide eyes glistened with uears, and Din and Aeleus exged looks of shared devastation.

  “Master Ansem…” Ienzo whispered, his voice barely audible. “How could he…”

  Xehanort stepped forward, his presenanding as he addressed the group. “I know how much this must hurt,” he said, his voice ge firm. “Your hearts are ag, ed by the betrayal of the one you trusted most. It’s a pain I too feel deeply.”

  His golden eyes swept over the apprentices, each of them looking to him fuidan their time of despair. “If only there were a way to escape this pain,” Xehanort tinued, his tone softening. “If only we could shed our hearts—the source of all suffering—and free ourselves from the torment they bring.”

  The words hung in the air, sinking into the minds of his audience. Xehanort’s gaze lingered on each of them, gauging their reas. Even’s brow furrowed as he sidered the idea, his analytical mind already processing the implications. Din and Aeleus exged uneasy gheir loyalty to Ansem flig with the growing seed of doubt.

  Ienzo, the you and most impressionable, looked up at Xehanort with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Is that… possible?” he asked hesitantly. “To live without pain?”

  Xehanort pced a reassuring hand on Ienzo’s shoulder, his smile warm but calcuted. “Perhaps,” he said. “It’s a theory I’ve been expl—ohat could allow us to trahe limitations of our hearts without losing who we are. But it would require research subjects, dedication… and ce.”

  Even stepped forward, his expression flicted. “You’re suggesting we discard our hearts?” he asked, his voice ced with both skepticism and curiosity. “How could such a thing even be possible? The heart is the essence of our being. To lose it would mean losing ourselves entirely.”

  Xehanort houghtfully, as if he too shared Even’s s. “You’re right, Even. The heart is integral to who we are. But what if there were a way to separate it from the body and mind? Does our hearts truly tain all we are or does it work in tandem with the body and mind? I hypothesized that the heart does hold memories but only memories of how things made us feel rather than the whole picture. So in theory, if the heart were to be removed we would still be ourselves but things would no loouch us emotionally.”

  The apprentices exged uain ghe seed of Xehanort’s manipution taking root in their minds. Braig stood silently at the back of the group, his arms crossed as he watched the se unfold. His expressiorayed none of his thoughts, but those who knew him knew better than to uimate him.

  “So, what are we gonna do now?” asked Braig