Aqua wandered through the Realm of Darkness, turning over thoughts and more thoughts in her head.

Doubt was starting to creep in once again.

She had overcome the Werewolf in combat, and it had submitted to her—she’d taken that as a sign that it was suitable for breeding with. But had the Heartless really shown a change in heart (so to speak)? Was it worth it? The monster had wandered off as soon as it had flooded her with seed, and her puppies… her pups…

Well.

They’d been rambunctious almost from the get-go, and hard to corral, but still good-natured little creatures. But the more they aged, the more like their father they got. They never attacked or went after her, of course, but they grew surly and aggressive and difficult to control, actively ignoring or defying her. And one morning she’d woken up to find that all of them had left in the night, leaving her alone—so, so very alone.

Again.

It was hard to explain why it bothered her so. After all, her offspring aged swiftly and then left. It was what they did. But all of them had shown affection to her before departing—nuzzling up against her, indulging in one last playful game, warbling or purring something low. Even the grubs of the Queen Bee, which hadn’t even been her biological children, had shown affection. But these Werewolf pups—though they hadn’t really been “pups” when they’d left—had departed without any hint of a goodbye.

Her entire goal while trapped here in the Realm of Darkness was to breed malice out of the Heartless, selecting worthy creatures and giving them offspring. That, mixed with her own inherent generosity and goodness, would hopefully start to change them one at a time until they were less of a threat.