As soon as Mickey left the protected areas he started
encountering more heartless.
As usual they were drawn out by his presence. They were weak
and barely delayed him. Weaker than usual, which was almost cause to wonder,
but he quickly discarded the thought, the strength of the Heartless varied
World to World and he had never pin pointed why.
It was true in part that the manufactured Heartless tended
to fall into line with the native Heartless. The native Heartless were
stronger, faster, more dangerous.
Mickey kept an eye out for those, but figured they would be
at the centre of the disturbance.
He was right.
As the swarms of shadows got thicker, he started to notice
some slid away, looking for more interesting prey? Called by their brethren? Or
more likely, someone was in charge of the local Heartless and was summoning
them.
He took note of the direction they were heading, and made
sure to follow.
He stopped outside an old Church.
“We are pilgrims on a
journey,” Came from inside the Church, someone was singing.
“And companions on the
road,” He tried the main doors, but they were locked. Taking a step back he
considered the door, and his Keyblade.
“We are here to help
each other,” Someone was inside, and he had seen a Heartless puddle below
the door and into the building. He had to follow that Heartless.
“Walk the mile and
bear the load,” Tapping the lock with his Keyblade, he heard it click open,
and he pushed his way inside. The Heartless swaying to her song.
The singer stopped and looked at him.
She was pale, an albino, except for her eyes. They were
black.
She hissed. “Mouse” and dozens of Heartless turned their
attention to him.
Uh oh.
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