In the middle of the fight and the chaos and the flashes of magic, there comes another night, more pure than anything else anyone could have conjured. It lights up the horizon in a brief flash of white, silver, and blue, and is followed by a strange silence - the calm before the storm.

And then wind and fire explodes in the center of the island, sending sand and water blasting outwards from the epicenter. The dust hasn't even settled and the light has barely begun to die away when a voice, familiar but different somehow, cries out from the middle of the burning star and a wordless spell lashes out at the dragon, brilliant white vines of light entangling around its form. The darkness retreats away from the immediate area of the shore, coiling away into the sea and sand and sky.

Eventually, the light fades away and the tendrils of pale magic can be traced back to two spinning keyblades - Oblivion and Oathekeeper - floating next to a surprisingly familiar figure. It wouldn't do to call him a boy anymore - he has long since become a young man in the years since the battle against Xemnas and even Calum. It has been several years since he's been a part of this fight, and bringing it crashing back to where it all began clearly doesn't sit well with him.

Or it could be that the fight interrupted college finals.

"Hey guys!" Sora remarks cheerfully, immediately dropping into a fighting crouch. "Could you have picked a time that wasn't so close to Christmas to bring back the darkness? Or you know, when I finished my math final?"