"Perhaps we should leave. This was all a waste of time anyway."
Three men sit around a table in a dimly lit room, the table being the brightest, yet only lighting up the chests of the men, leaving their faces in the darkness. (maybetomakethemseemmorevillainous)
"He's a little late, but I'm certain he'll show up." The man who seems to be wearing a rabbit costume with a purple vest says, tapping his fingers against the table.
"But what if he doesn't?" The man wearing scaley red armored clothing speaks, his voice sounding harsh and robotic. "What if he only called us here just to waste our time? Ever thought of that, beast?"
"Rabbits aren't that beast-like." Rabbit man says... glitching slightly.
"Now isn't a good time to argue." The man in an odd outfit with a strange symbol on his chest says, folding his arms.
"Silence." Crimson armor man says to the odd apparel man. "I've heard enough from you."
"Perhaps you didn't know I have control of an army of monsters that'll gladly take your heart."
"They won't last even when at war with my armada."
"Your army doesn't have the weapons capable of destroying Heartless completely."
"Gentlemen, let's all try to be friends here."
The three men turn to face a fourth man who is wearing a fancy outfit and steampunk glasses walks over to the table.
"You must be Dr. Westdoom."
"Westdūme." The fancy man, Dr. Westdūme, apparently, corrected. He stops and looks at the men, frowning. "Shame no one else showed up." He said, before grinning. "But perhaps more will join once we begin."
"Begin what, exactly?" The man in crimson armor asked.
Westdūme, after reaching the table, leans down against it, the light illuminating his grinning face. "The first phase... of project collision."