He’d learned that he existed, but not why. Just the simple act of having a face instead of being red-eyed darkness was so agonizing, Vanitas nearly passed out. “Weak,” he hissed to himself, pacing again on the dead sand of the Keyblade Graveyard.
Master Xehanort sent Ventus away, just as Vanitas insisted. He couldn’t even suppress his impulse to hurt Ventus or maybe even kill him for being the original heart he was torn from. And at the same time, he missed having the blonde boy nearby.
Stupid. Vanitas scowled, and a few Unversed appeared. He couldn’t control them either half the time. All the time. Was there anything he couldn’t mess up? He should be part of Ventus, back where he belongs, instead of — whatever passed as his miserable existence.
More Unversed appeared in swirls of darkness. “Tch.” Vanitas walked away, but they followed and tumbled over each other. Anxious. Afraid. Sad. Lonely. The stupid expressions right on their dark faces. If you could even call them faces.
A monster spouting monsters, futureless and worthless without Ventus. He wanted to be back with his brother in the Land of Departure. But Vanitas couldn’t be there, and he didn’t want to be here. Everything was so pointless.
“Stop it!” He called on the Keyblade and it came, one thing he could manage. Whirling around, he cut through the Unversed trailing him.
Vanitas felt every cut in his body, in his heart, and the pain and despair fed into more Unversed, and he kept going, he couldn’t stop, what else could he do? Exhaustion and agony finally caught up with him… Hours or minutes later, it didn’t matter.
The Keyblade disappeared and Vanitas dropped to his hands and knees. Sobs shook him, ragged breaths escaping, and he clawed at the sand. He hated this. Himself. This place. Everything.
“Vanitas,” Master Xehanort interrupted neutrally. “There is a way out for you.” Vanitas looked up, dirt and tears staining his face. “To achieve salvation, you must unite with Ventus and become the χ-blade.”
He smiled, and Vanitas dragged his tired body to his feet. “Don’t you want to return to him?”
“I can go back to Ventus?” He wanted to. Vanitas didn’t want to be alone anymore. He wanted to have a purpose. Most of all, he was done hurting like this. “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” Master Xehanort observed. “I will take you on as my apprentice. When you know all you need to, only then can you become whole again.”
Vanitas breathed shakily, a weakened tremor running through him. Of course — he was too weak to be with Ventus. Master Xehanort would break him in, make him good enough to go back. And this pain could all be over. “I’ll do anything. Just you watch.”