The air was heavy with the weight of impending war. The Powhatan warriors gathered in the center of the village, the flickering firelight casting long shadows across their tense faces. The night had offered no peace—only the growing knowledge that the Heartless were not an isolated threat. They would return, and next time, it would be worse.
Chief Powhatan stood before his people, his expression grave. "These creatures... they do not hunt as animals do. They do not fight as men do. They seek our destruction. Three times have we faced their assault and there will be more. We sit here ready to see what our next step will be."
Murmurs rippled through the tribe. Some warriors looked to Pocahontas, who had already proven she could fight these creatures. Others turned to the outsiders, the ones with strange weapons and magic.
Aqua stepped forward, her voice steady. "Although come from the darkness, drawn to fear, anger, and greed. They can be fought. And they can be beaten. Should you choose to fight then you shall have our blades at your side."
The warriors listened, but some still hesitated. The elders exchanged worried glances.
"If they are drawn to war, then perhaps we must leave this place," one of them suggested.
"No," Pocahontas said firmly, stepping forward. "This is our home." Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "I refuse to run."
Powhatan studied his daughter, then turned his gaze to Aqua, Skuld, and Helios. "If we stand and fight, you three will aid us?"
Aqua nodded without hesitation. "Of course you have our word."
Skuld gave a confident grin. "We won't let them take this land."
Helios, standing slightly apart from the others, simply smiled. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't invested."
Powhatan exhaled, his decision made. "Then I say we fight."
That night, while the village prepared for battle, Helios slipped away into the dark forest. The soft crunch of fallen leaves under his boots was the only sound that followed him. He needed to find Grandmother Willow again.
He arrived at the ancient tree, placing a hand against her bark. "You're awake, aren't you?"
The face of Grandmother Willow slowly appeared in the knots of the tree. "Oh, little dark traveler... you're persistent."
Helios crossed his arms. "You know why I'm here. I need the Keyhole."
Grandmother Willow's expression was unreadable. "And why do you seek it?"
"To lock it. If the Heartless can't reach the world's heart, they'll stop coming."
A rustling sound passed through the leaves, like a sigh. "Locking a door does not always stop what lurks behind it."
Helios narrowed his eyes. "That's not an answer."
"It is an answer. Just not the one you want."
He exhaled sharply, losing patience. "Fine. Let's make a deal. You show me the Keyhole after we deal with Ratcliffe and his creatures."
Grandmother Willow smiled, her expression unreadable. "Very well, little traveler. But be warned... the path you walk is not set in stone. Your choices will shape the storm to come. I only pray that you make the best choice not only for yourself but those around you."
Helios turned away. "I've already made my choice. Right or wrong my path was decided long ago and I will follow it to its conclusion."
Back at the village, Pocahontas sat by the river, staring at her reflection. She had always believed in listening to the wind, to the world around her. But for the first time, she didn't know what it was telling her.
John Smith approached, musket slung over his shoulder. "You seem troubled."
She didn't look at him. "This fight... it's not just ours anymore. If we don't stop these things they will take more than just this land."
John hesitated before speaking. "Do you really trust them? Those outsiders?"
Pocahontas turned to him. "Do you?"
John frowned. "No. But I do know Ratcliffe has changed. I heard him talking about overthrowing King James. He's not just after land or gold anymore—he's after power. To get that he says he needs you so I came to find you. Now that I've learned what those monsters are we have to stop the mad man no matter the cost."
Pocahontas looked at him with a calm gaze. "Then we have no choice. We fight."
John looked at her, then nodded. "Then I'll fight too."
Before the sun rose a tremor rippled through the earth.
The warriors in the village tensed, gripping their weapons. The night air grew heavy with an unnatural silence. Then, in the distance—
A thunderous roar.
Trees snapped like twigs as a monstrous shape emerged from the darkness.
The Tyrant Tusker was a massive, armored boar-like Heartless, covered in thick obsidian plates. Its red eyes burned like fire, and jagged tusks crackled with dark energy. Behind it, a swarm of Heartless poured forth—Shadows, Nightfangs, and the hollow-eyed settlers under Ratcliffe's command.
The villagers braced for impact.
Aqua's voice rang out. "Positions! Now!"
The warriors took their places. Bows were drawn. Spears were readied.
Helios emerged from the shadows, spinning his silver spear. "Well," he muttered, smirking. "They sure didn't waste time."
Skuld summoned her Keyblade. "This is it."
Pocahontas, standing tall beside them, took a deep breath. Her wind stirred, as if responding to her resolve.
John Smith, standing with the warriors, loaded his musket. "We hold the line."
The Tyrant Tusker let out another roar—
And charged.
The moment the Tusker moved, Helios was already in motion. He dashed forward, spear trailing light.
Aqua's Tidal Scepter pulsed with energy as she summoned a tidal barrier, forcing the lesser Heartless to be swept back.
Skuld leapt high, Zephyr Talons carving through the wind. "Come on, then!"
Pocahontas notched an arrow, the wind gathering at her fingertips. She aimed at the beast's exposed underbelly and fired.
The arrow struck, a gust of wind exploding outward—
The battle for the Spirit Woods had begun.
Ratcliffe stood in the shadows of the battlefield, his eyes now glowing with raw darkness. His lips curled into a twisted grin. "Let's see who truly owns this land."