Twilight Town bathed in gold.
The sky, forever painted in shades of amber and tangerine, stretched across the horizon like a dream stuck in repeat. Sunlight filtered through cotton clouds, casting long, soft-edged shadows on the cobblestone paths below. There was no wind. No ticking clocks. Just that low, eternal hush of a world caught between waking and sleep.
Helios emerged from a narrow corridor just outside the main plaza, his boots clicking softly as they met the stone path. His coat swayed behind him, hood drawn low, obscuring his face from wandering eyes.
But that was the problem.
He looked around. Kids ran near the station tram rails, laughter echoing through the air. A dog barked somewhere beyond the slope of Market Street. Bells chimed lazily in the distance. Nothing felt… wrong.
Perfectly normal which was good.
If the organization Nobodies had been born here, this place might not be as peaceful.
But everything remained calm. Comfortable. Undisturbed. So that was a good sign.
Children laughed near the tram station. Bakery steam drifted from open windows. The world itself felt untouched—timeless.
But Helios knew better than to let his guard down because of all that. Even if they hadn't been born here it doesn't mean that they might not come here esscepally with the birth of two new Nobodies.
He walked the cobbled streets at a measured pace, his open jacket fluttering in the warm breeze. One hand stayed loosely at his side, ready to summon Equilibrium at a moment's notice.
He kept his hood low.
Caution was critical.
The two Nobodiescould be anywhere. If they had awakened and wandered into town, someone should have seen it. Even without memories, a newly born Nobody would behave… differently.
Helios wandered the winding streets with precision—his steps purposeful, his eyes scanning corners, windows, rooftops. He didn't use magic, didn't flare his power, didn't do anything that would call attention to himself.
If Organization XIII had scouts here, they couldn't know what he was searching for.
He passed the café on Sunset Terrace, where children laughed over fruit drinks. He drifted through the item shop square, nodding to a storekeeper who waved. He even looped past the clock tower, staring up at its familiar face, hands frozen just before six.
No unusual aura. No fear. No disruption.
He pulled aside a boy with a bandana and skateboard near the tram station.
"Have you seen anyone new lately?" Helios asked, voice light but firm. "A boy and a girl—probably about my height. Dressed… strange. You'd know it if you saw them."
The kid shook his head. "Nah. Just tourists and locals. You looking for your friends?"
Helios smiled. "My brother and sister. Got separated. Thought they might've passed through."
The boy shrugged. "Sorry."
It was the same answer, over and over again.
Old woman on a bench? "No, dear."
Snack vendor by the stairs? "Nope. Only seen regulars."
Even the tram conductor, after some brief conversation, simply said: "Haven't seen anyone like that, sir. You sure you're in the right place?"
Hands in pockets. Eyes sharp.
If neither of them were in the city proper…
Then they had to be somewhere off-grid.
And in Twilight Town, only one place came to mind.
The abandoned mansion.
Even in the timelines he didn't touch, that place existed in the background—ignored, dismissed, forgotten. Yet it would become the site of some of the greatest convergences in history. DiZ's hideout. Naminé's prison. Riku's acceptance of darkness.
But that was years from now.
For the moment, it was just an empty shell, perched at the edge of perception.
Helios stood at the base of the trail leading out from the residential district. It was overgrown with vines and wild grass, like the world itself tried to bury it under memory.
Leaves crunched beneath his boots. The light dimmed slightly as the trees thickened. Mist crept in from the sides like hands brushing his shoulders. The further he walked, the quieter it became.
Not even his footsteps echoed anymore.
Just the whisper of breath. And the beating of his heart.
At last, the trees parted.
The mansion rose before him like a ghost.
Three stories of stone and decay. Ivy draped over the cracked windows like mourning veils. The gates were rusted shut, the paint long faded to skeletal gray. Even in the warm twilight, this place felt cold.
He stood still for a moment, studying it.
The tension in the air was subtle—but real. Like walking into a room where an argument had just ended. Something had happened here. Something recent.
The hair on the back of his neck rose.
At least one of them.
He moved to the gate, pushing past the overgrown hedge to find the familiar crack in the side wall—half-collapsed stone just wide enough to slip through.
The courtyard beyond was littered with debris—broken statues, overturned planters, weeds pushing through the tiled ground. A cracked fountain stood dry in the center, the angel statue at its heart now missing one wing.
Helios drew closer to the front door, one hand hovering over his side. He hadn't summoned his Keyblade, but the air made him itch for it.
He reached out and gripped the iron handle.
The door creaked open.
Darkness met him on the other side. Not malevolent—just old. Deep. Forgotten.
The smell of dust and stone filled his lungs.
As he crossed the threshold.