"I'll send you somewhere. You'll find my friends there, so be respectful. They'll handle the rest of your wounds and look after you. Hand them this letter for me," said Helios as the light for the Curaga spell faded.
Helios carefully placed the sealed letter onto Helga's trembling stomach, ensuring her pale, shaking hands were firmly clutching it. The woman's eyes fluttered weakly as Helios leaned close, whispering in a voice dripping with both promise and menace, "Remember, Helga, we all must pay our debts."
He stepped back, watching her expression shift from confusion to desperation as a dark corridor yawned open beneath her, swallowing her and whisking her away into darkness. Helios lingered a moment, staring at the empty space before another dark corridor split the air in front of him. Calmly, he adjusted his jacket and stepped through, vanishing without a trace.
Meanwhile, in Atlantis, urgency electrified the air. Milo stood at the forefront, determination set fiercely in his features as he addressed the gathered Atlanteans. "This is our chance! We can't let Rourke take away your future. The power that sustains this city must not fall into his hands! Now do what I do!"
Nods of agreement rippled through the crowd. The Atlanteans, awakened from centuries of dormancy, rushed to reactivate their ancient machines. The once-slumbering flying machines—magnificent fish-shaped craft crafted from gleaming metal and shimmering crystal—began to pulse and hum with life. Atlantean warriors and Milo's companions swiftly mounted the crafts, inserting their crystals into recessed slots, immediately illuminating their vessels with radiant, pulsating blue light.
"Everyone ready?" Milo called out, looking to his team. "Remember, we do this together!"
Vincenzo smirked, gripping the controls tightly. "Just point me at 'em!"
Sweet flashed an approving grin, nodding with determination. "You got it, Milo!"
Mole, Packard, Audrey, and Cookie all signaled readiness, each face set with unwavering resolve. With Milo in the lead, the fish-like machines surged forward, launching skyward and weaving through the crystal-lit skies above Atlantis. They raced toward the volcano, the pulse of Atlantean power beneath them driving their flight at breathtaking speed.
Inside the volcanic cavern, Rourke's mercenaries quickly reacted, alerted by the incoming machines. Gunfire erupted as projectiles whizzed through the air, dangerously close to the Atlantean crafts. Milo gritted his teeth, steering his vessel with practiced precision.
"Split formation!" he shouted over the chaos, and instantly, the group dispersed, evading enemy fire. Vincenzo soared upwards, dodging bullets and releasing explosive charges that sent plumes of fire erupting around the mercenaries' positions.
Sweet skillfully guided his machine low and fast, swiftly maneuvering around the rock formations. He shouted encouragement to Audrey, who deftly piloted her craft, evading gunfire and providing cover with calculated bursts of crystal energy that disabled mercenary weapons.
"Watch your flank!" Packard called calmly, piloting her craft with surprising agility, her face utterly composed amidst the chaos. Her warning came just in time as Mole veered sharply, narrowly escaping a hail of bullets. Mole responded by slamming his controls, releasing a cloud of blinding dust and debris that disoriented the attackers.
In another section of the volcanic cavern, Kurai emerged silently from a dark corridor, joining Skuld who was gracefully soaring on winds conjured by her Zephyr Talons.
"You're late," Skuld remarked dryly, glancing sideways at Kurai.
"Just taking care of loose ends," Kurai replied coolly. Her voice was steady, eyes focused and calculating. "Let's hurry up and finish this quickly."
Together, the two surged forward, Kurai riding currents of black wind while Skuld manipulated fierce, protective green wind. They cut effortlessly through the mercenaries' ranks, Kurai dismantling firearms with precise strikes of her keyblade and Skuld blasting back attackers with concentrated gusts of wind.
The battle intensified as the group pressed deeper into the volcano. Milo navigated his craft expertly, sensing their approach to Rourke's position. "We can't let him escape with Kida!"
Ahead, Rourke's remaining mercenaries rallied for a final defense, bullets and explosive charges filling the cavern with deadly crossfire. Undeterred, Milo and his team surged forward, their Atlantean crafts emitting powerful bursts of energy that scattered their foes.
In the chaos, Kurai spotted the crystal-bound Kida aboard Rourke's vessel, hovering ominously above the cavern's fiery core. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she and Skuld converged, preparing to free the imprisoned princess.
"Cover me," Kurai ordered, her voice cold and authoritative.
Skuld nodded, conjuring a wall of whipping winds to shield Kurai from the mercenaries' desperate, final barrage. Kurai gathered her darkness, her keyblade charged and ready, streaking toward the vessel with unstoppable force.
Below, Milo and his companions swiftly secured the volcanic cavern, disabling the last pockets of resistance. He looked upward, heart pounding with hope and determination.
"Hold on, Kida," he whispered fiercely, steering his craft higher. "We're coming."
Elsewhere, Rourke was experiencing the last gift given to him by Helga. The glass that had been shattered by Helga contained some of the Hearts' energy, and when it cut him, he was infected by it. However maybe due to his evil dark nature or the fact that the dark hand had fused with him before he had begun to mutate.
Rourke's eyes widen. Too late.
The light surged, reacting to the invading dark. Crystal-blue light streams into Rourke's body. He screams, grabbing his head, but the dark tendrils latch onto the same wound—the crystal blue flesh merged with the darkness. The energy feedback was explosive.
"What is this?! Agh—what's... happening to me—" His body begins to convulse violently. The crystal glow formed from within his chest now, pumping like a second heart.
His skin turns transparent in patches, revealing muscle fibers crackling with Atlantean energy, but those glowing veins suddenly begin to darken—pulsing purple and black instead of blue. His face starts melting into shadow, leaving a skull-like black mask where his human features once were. A crown of molten orange horns forms as his head stretches and deforms, rising into a spiked crest.
The heart's energy, rather than purifying him, has become a corrupted core.
Chains snap. The floor buckles.
"NO! WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME!" he howls, but the darkness only laughs back.
His right arm bulges grotesquely, becoming an armored appendage lined with obsidian plates, crackling with red lightning. His left arm mutates into three writhing tentacle-like blades that shift and phase between matter and shadow.
His legs split at the knees and bend backward like an insect, coated in angular armor with glowing glyphs from the Heart now overwritten with twisted Heartless symbols. Black-and-purple flame-like mist trails from his shoulders and back, forming pseudo-wings that vanish and reform constantly.
His Heartless emblem—twisted and etched like cracked glass—emerges over his crystallized chest, caged by jagged armor.
A terrible pressure filled the chamber, as if the air itself recoiled from what Rourke had become. Lava hissed and churned violently below, mirroring the chaos erupting in his body.
As Sovereign Pulse rose—wings of smoke and crystal flame unfurling—his entire form radiated an aura of deathless hatred. His voice reverberated with layered distortion, half-Rourke, half-something ancient and wrong.
"I am the Sovereign Pulse," he declared, spreading his arms wide as the cavern shook. "The Heart of Atlantis… shall meet its end. This world belongs to the darkness."
And from the shadows—they answered.
Heartless poured forth, not summoned, but drawn, like predators to a wounded sun. They crawled, flew, and slithered from every crevice, baptized by the corrupted light of the Heart.
Above them all, Sovereign Pulse hovered—unchallenged, triumphant, and hungry.