Xehanort stood in the dimly lit lab, the soft hum of machinery filling the air. His golden eyes were fixed on the monitors before him, the flickering images of cara feeds casting a faint glow across his face. He leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable as he observed the Heartless milling in their containnt chambers.
Suddenly, the sound of a door sliding open broke his focus. Xehanort straightened, turning his attention to the figure entering the room. Braig strode in with his usual casual deanor, though sothing was different this ti. His ever-present smirk was absent, replaced by a serious expression that imdiately caught Xehanort's attention.
"Braig," Xehanort said, his voice calm yet laced with curiosity. "It's rare to see you without that foolish grin on your face. What's the occasion?"
Braig ca to a stop a few feet away, crossing his arms. His sharp eyes t Xehanort's, but there was a flicker of sothing beneath his usual bravado. "What do you want, Xehanort?" he asked bluntly, his tone uncharacteristically flat.
Xehanort allowed a faint smirk to curve his lips as he began to pace, his hands clasped behind his back. "Straight to the point, are we?" he mused. "Very well. I've been considering the state of our… cohabitation with Ansem the Wise."
Braig raised an eyebrow, his posture tensing ever so slightly. "And?"
"And," Xehanort continued, his voice taking on a sharper edge, "I believe it might be ti for him to… disappear."
Braig's eyes narrowed, and he lowered his voice to a near whisper. "Disappear? I thought we were keeping the old man around for at least another two weeks."
Xehanort stopped pacing and turned to face Braig fully, his golden eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. "That was the original plan," he admitted. "But the recent incident with the virus has complicated matters. I reviewed the code myself—it was unlike anything I've seen before. And more importantly, a new program has been installed in our systems. A backdoor."
Braig's jaw tightened, though he kept his tone casual. "So what? A backdoor's just a tool. Doesn't an it's dangerous."
Xehanort's smirk vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. "The implications are clear," he said quietly. "Ansem is the only one who could have convinced that fool Cid to execute such a maneuver under our noses. I cannot ignore the possibility that he suspects sothing."
Braig leaned against the wall, one hand resting on the hilt of his weapon. "And you think getting rid of him now is the answer? How do you plan to sell that to the others?"
Xehanort's smirk returned, this ti tinged with a sinister edge. "Simple. We spin a tale of abandonnt. Ansem the Wise, overco by guilt and disappointnt, chooses to leave Radiant Garden to reflect on his actions. Or," he added, his tone dropping to a near whisper, "perhaps he fears retribution for his own mistakes. You know sacrificing children in his experints. Now seeing his apprentices following in his footsteps he could no longer live with it and chose to abandon them."
Braig let out a low whistle, his smirk creeping back as he shook his head. "You really are sothing, Xehanort. You've got the story ready and everything. But you haven't answered the real question."
Xehanort raised an eyebrow, his expression betraying faint amusent. "And what question would that be?"
"How," Braig said, his voice dropping, "are you planning to get rid of him? The old man's no fool, and he's not exactly easy to pin down."
Xehanort's expression darkened, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Do you rember Ienzo's recent theory? The one based on the irregular?"
Braig's smirk faltered, his expression tightening. "The shadowy figure," he said flatly, his tone betraying a hint of irritation.
Xehanort's eyes glead with interest. "Ah, I see that the irregular is a sore subject for you. Have you had dealings with this mysterious entity?"
Braig's scowl deepened, and he crossed his arms, his smirk now completely gone. "As if," he muttered, his tone dismissive. "Just don't like wild cards ssing with our plans."
Xehanort studied him for a mont, his gaze sharp and penetrating. Then, with a small shrug, he seed to let the matter drop. "Very well. The irregular's abilities are irrelevant for now. What matters is the principle of Ienzo's theory—that darkness can be used to open doorways to other realms. We've had so success in our experints, though the process is… unstable."
Braig's eyes narrowed. "And you want to use that on Ansem?"
Xehanort nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Precisely. We'll banish him to the Realm of Darkness. A fitting end for a man who sought to cower and shield himself from its truths."
Braig let out a low chuckle, though there was little humor in it. "Cold, even for you. But what about the apprentices? They're bound to have questions when the old man vanishes."
Xehanort waved a hand dismissively, his tone casual. "That's where you co in, Braig. You're such a wonderful liar, after all. I'll leave the details of the story to you. You can also fabricate so evidence while you're at it."
Braig pushed off the wall, his smirk returning, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You've got it all figured out, huh?" he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Fine. I'll handle the apprentices. But you'd better make sure your little darkness trick actually works. Last thing we need is the old man showing up again with a vendetta."
Xehanort's smile widened, his confidence unwavering. "It will work," he said softly. "And soon, Radiant Garden will no longer be under the heel of that coward but under mine."
Braig studied him for a mont, then gave a small shrug. "Alright, boss. Just don't expect to stick my neck out if this plan blows up in your face."
Xehanort chuckled, his gaze returning to the monitors. "Oh, Braig," he said quietly, his tone almost patronizing. "You've never stuck your neck out, especially for . I suppose it ensures it doesn't get cut."
Braig's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he turned on his heel and walked out of the lab, his footsteps echoing in the dim corridor. Xehanort watched him go, his expression unreadable. Then, with a soft sigh, he turned his attention back to the monitors, his golden eyes gleaming with anticipation.
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