A cold shiver ran through the Spirit Woods as the Wraith Stalker's final, piercing screech echoed into the night. The air itself seemed to darken as a storm of writhing shadows descended upon the battlefield.
Heartless.
Countless glowing eyes appeared in the treetops and behind the thick brush. First, the small, scuttling Shadows crept forward in eerie unison. Then came the larger, more menacing forms—Invisibles, their ghastly shapes holding large swords, and the newly emerged Hollow Prowlers, feline-like beasts with elongated claws and eerie, pupil-less yellow eyes. They moved with terrifying silence, their bodies shifting in and out of view as they stalked their prey.
John Smith took a step back, his heart hammering in his chest. "What… what are these things? They just keep coming. Is there no end to them?" His musket trembled in his hands as he saw the Heartless advancing, their presence so unnatural it sent a deep, instinctual fear through him.
Pocahontas gripped her bow tightly, her breath steady but eyes wide with realization. "They don't belong to this land."
Skuld's Zephyr Talons transformed back into her keyblade. "No… they don't."
A blinding silver gleam streaked through the battlefield as Helios appeared in the clearing, his spear Bríon na Lú in hand. He struck down a Hollow Prowler mid-leap, twisting his spear and using a burst of light-infused speed to dodge another attack.
Skuld was right behind him, slashing through the Shadows with swift, elegant movements. Her wind magic tore through the encroaching tide, sending Heartless flying.
Aqua arrived next, her Tidal Scepter materializing in her grip. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a Tidal Aegis, a massive wave of water that crashed into the nearest wave of Heartless, momentarily pushing them back. "Stay close to me!" she commanded.
John, unable to understand what was happening, struggled to fight. He had never seen such magical and mystical abilities. His musket was useless—the creatures didn't bleed, didn't flinch when shot. "Damn it!" He barely managed to reload before another Shadow lunged at him.
An arrow whizzed through the air, striking the Heartless dead center and dispersing it.
John turned to see Pocahontas standing firm, drawing another arrow. The wind around her twisted unnaturally, guiding her shots with precision.
"Thank you, you fight well," John muttered, finding himself surprised.
Pocahontas didn't look at him, eyes locked onto the growing number of creatures. "I have to."
The battle raged.
Just as they seemed to be gaining ground, a deep tear split open in the air.
A violent vortex of darkness erupted from the void, and the fallen Wraith Stalker let out a ghastly wail as its form split into two.
The first was its Spectral Form, phasing through all attacks like a shadow, flickering in and out of reality.
The second was its Physical Form, which became more monstrous, its claws elongating and golden tribal markings glowing turned purple with corrupted power.
"Of course it's not dead," Helios muttered, rolling his shoulders. "They never die so easy."
The twin Wraith Stalkers struck.
The Spectral Form lunged at Skuld, passing through her before solidifying behind her for a deadly counterattack. She barely twisted away in time, summoning a whirlwind to propel herself out of reach.
The Physical Form slashed toward Aqua, its claws cutting through the air like jagged black lightning. She blocked with her Tidal Scepter but was forced back.
"It's getting stronger!" Aqua warned.
"Then we hit it harder and faster," Helios shot back, gripping his spear.
Pocahontas' eyes darted between her allies—Skuld evading with speed, Aqua countering with power, Helios fighting with deadly precision.
And yet, she was still struggling.
Her grip on her bow tightened. She could feel it—that strange pull, like a force deep within her calling out.
She closed her eyes.
The wind whispered.
It wrapped around her, guiding her arms, her breath, her stance.
A sudden burst of air erupted around her, forming a protective aura. The wind pushed back the attacking Heartless, allowing her to move freely.
Pocahontas opened her eyes, now gleaming with determination.
She felt the wind now—not just as something around her, but within her.
Lifting her bow, she fired an arrow—not just any arrow, but one infused with a storm itself.
The arrow struck true, hitting the Spectral Wraith Stalker's real form hiding within the shadows. It let out a horrifying screech of pain as the illusions shattered, revealing its core.
"There!" Pocahontas called out. "Now!"
Helios saw the opening and didn't hesitate.
In one swift motion, he hurled his spear like a radiant comet. Bríon na Lú streaked through the battlefield, pinning the Wraith Stalker in place against a tree.
"Aqua!"
Aqua, shifted her scepter into her ice bow.
Light gathered at its core forming an arrow—shimmering, twisting into a concentrated beam of energy.
She loosed the arrow.
"Shimmering Lance!"
The arrow struck the impaled Wraith Stalker, exploding into a cascade of radiant energy.
The Wraith Stalker let out a final, ear-splitting shriek before its body collapsed into darkness, vanishing into the wind.
The remaining Heartless, seeing their leader fall, fled into the shadows.
The battle was won.
John stood frozen, musket still raised.
This wasn't just a battle.
This was warfare beyond his understanding.
He turned to Helios, to Aqua, to Skuld, to Pocahontas—all standing amidst the ruins of a battle that should have been impossible.
John's grip tightened. "Who… no, what are you people?"
Helios tilted his head, amused. "We're travelers."
John's eyes darkened. "You're hiding something."
"We are, but that's our business," Helios replied smoothly. "But if you want answers? Maybe start with your Governor."
John clenched his jaw. Ratcliffe.
Far away, deep in Jamestown, Ratcliffe sat alone in his tent.
The darkness curled around him, slithering like living shadows. He clenched his fists, rage and greed burning within him.
The destruction of his Wraith Stalker only fueled his obsession.
The Heartless whispered in his ears, their voices sickly sweet.
Power.
Conquest.
Dominion.
Ratcliffe grinned, his teeth shadowed by the dark glow seeping into his skin.
"Burn it all down."
A massive, monstrous Heartless stirred behind him—its thick, armored hide glowing with tribal sigils, massive tusks curling outwards like jagged blades.
The Tyrant Tusker.
It would lead the next attack.
The war was far from over.