Olympus

Thebes smelled of sun-baked stone, olive oil, and the faint, coppery scent of trouble.

I maneuvered the Highwind through the cloud cover, bypassing the grandiose golden gates of the Realm of the Gods. I wasn't here to have tea with Zeus. My sensors had picked up a cluster of dark energy signatures down in the city, near the Agora. The rebuilding efforts were going well, but construction sites were breeding grounds for shadows. Dark corners, forgotten alleyways, that was where the Heartless festered.

I landed the ship in a secluded courtyard, the engines powering down with a low whine. As the canopy opened, the dry Greek heat hit me. It was different from the humidity of worlds like Destiny Islands; it was a sharp, dry heat that made sweat appear on your skin instantly.

I stepped out, my boots crunching on the marble pavement. I didn't rush. I walked with purpose.

"Let's see what crawled out of the Underworld," I muttered.

I turned a corner into the main square. It was mostly empty, save for a few citizens carrying pots. But in the center, near the fountain, the air shimmered with that familiar, oily distortion.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Shadows emerged from the ground. Then a Large Body, its round belly shaking as it waddled forward. Then a Soldier, twitching erratically. They weren't an army, just leftovers. Scavengers looking for hearts to snack on.

A woman screamed. A merchant dropped his cart and ran.

I didn't panic. I didn't shout a battle cry. I simply summoned my Keyblade. The heavy, dark steel of the weapon materialized in my grip.

"Out of my way," I said, my voice low.

I surged forward. Sora fought like a dancer, flipping, spinning, defying gravity. I fought like a hammer.

I closed the distance to the Soldier in two strides. I didn't cast a spell; I swung the Keyblade in a brutal, horizontal arc. The impact was sickeningly solid. The Heartless didn't just vanish; it shattered under the ****, dissolving into black mist instantly.

The Large Body roared and tried to belly-flop onto me. I didn't dodge. I side-stepped at the last second, letting gravity do the work, and brought the hilt of my blade down onto its head as it landed. The shockwave cracked the pavement. The monster faded away before it even hit the ground.

The Shadows tried to swarm my ankles. I cast a simple Thundaga. Not a storm, just a concentrated blast around my body. Lightning arced from my skin, vaporizing the smaller creatures instantly.

Silence returned to the square. The dust settled.

I dismissed my Keyblade. It vanished in a sparkle of dark light. I brushed a speck of dust from my shoulder. Efficient, clean, just how i liked it.

"Well, aren't you a fresh flavor of ****."

The voice came from behind me. It was smoky, sultry, and dripped with a sarcasm so thick you could cut it with a knife.

I turned around.

Leaning against a fluted column, shaded from the harsh sun, was Megara.

She looked exactly as the reports described, but the holographic images didn't do her justice. Her violet eyes were heavy-lidded and sharp, analyzing me. Her hips were cocked to one side, accentuating the curve of her long, purple dress. Her dark auburn hair was tied up in that high, voluminous ponytail, a single curl falling over her forehead.

She wasn't looking at me with fear. She was looking at me with amusement.

"I thought Wonderboy was the only one allowed to break the pavement around here," she said, pushing herself off the pillar and walking toward me. Her hips swayed with a hypnotic, practiced rhythm. "But you... you don't look like you're aiming for a place on a cereal box."

I watched her approach. I felt the pull immediately. Yen Sid's warning about "gravity" wasn't a metaphor. I could feel her presence pressing against my senses, and I could tell she felt mine even more. She faltered for a micro-second, her confident stride hitching as she got close enough to feel the aura I projected.

" Hercules is a hero," I said, my voice calm, holding her gaze. "Heroes pose for statues. I'm just the guy who takes out the trash."

Megara stopped a few feet away. She looked me up and down, her eyes lingering on my broad shoulders, then down to my hands, and back up to my eyes. She bit her lower lip, just for a second.

"Trash duty," she purred. "Sounds dirty."

"It has its moments."

"I'm Meg," she introduced herself, though she clearly expected me to know who she was. "And you are?"

"Ray," I replied. "I'm a Keyblade Master."

"A Master," she repeated, testing the word on her tongue. She took a step closer, invading my personal space. She smelled of lavender and something darker, like burnt sugar. "Sora was a Keyblade wielder too. Cute kid. Spiky hair. Big shoes. But you..."

She reached out, her slender finger tracing the line of my jaw. Her touch was cool, but her eyes were burning.

"...you're fully grown, aren't you, Ray?"

"I am," I said, catching her wrist gently but firmly. I didn't push her away. I held her hand there. Her pulse was hammering against my fingertips. "And where is the great Hercules? Shouldn't he be protecting the city?"

Meg rolled her eyes, a gesture of long-suffering affection and boredom. "Wonderboy? He's up at the Coliseum. Phil has him running laps with boulders strapped to his back. 'Constant vigilance,' or whatever. He's sweet, but..." She sighed, looking at me through her lashes. "...sometimes a girl gets tired of 'sweet'. Sometimes, she wants something a little more... solid."

The air between us grew heavy. The background noise of Thebes faded away. It was just me and her.

"The Heartless are gone for now," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "But I need to inspect the area. Make sure nothing else is lurking in the shadows."

Megara smiled. It wasn't her usual cynical smirk. It was a genuine, predatory smile.

"I know all the dark corners in this town, Ray," she whispered, stepping in so close that her chest brushed against my coat. "Why don't I give you the private tour?"

I looked down at her. She was bored, she was beautiful, and she was practically begging for a distraction from her squeaky-clean life.

"Lead the way, Meg," I said.

She turned, glancing back over her shoulder with a look that promised trouble.

"Try to keep up, Master."