galacticzgazr

[sysig]

maybe you should doodle however many or few starcon/helix/damned characters as you like (in human or alien form) in cute halloween costumes! imagine... ZEX dressed up as Ariel thelittlemermaid...

Day 26 - "I hadn't realized humans also had aquatic subcultures!" "Oh, well, uhm..."

[jackidy]

If You Let Me: Chapter 2

Rating: T Pairings: Demyx/Zexion, Demyx/Ienzo (Eventual/Slowburn) Characters: Various, Zexion/Ienzo Centric Setting: BBS to KH3, Canon compliant mostly

Warnings: Canon Character Death (Temporary)

Summary: “It’s almost a shame really, that you probably won’t survive this.” Only he did. Spending the prelude to adulthood as a nobody, a supposed empty husk of a being was never an option any of them considered, least of all a newly named Zexion who would be living every last one of them.

Note: A wee bit later than expected but that’s what happens when you procrastinate making maps for the DND campaign you run for about 2 weeks and remember your session is on saturday haha. Points if you can name the disney films i reference in this chapter.

Chapter one | Next Chapter

---

Year 2

Meetings are boring but by no means lacking interest, Zexion using this time to study the others from his low seat as they talked over their collective mission and any new world of interest. He’d read those outline reports later, after another lesson with Vexen on magic or even another round of watching Axel and Saix spar with any of the older members, mostly Xaldin, to become more attuned to their weapons.

His had yet to appear, a sign Vexen took to strengthen his magical abilities, Zexion wondering if this was in part down to him still holding a semblance of care towards him in the same vein as Even had. Nobody had ever mentioned it, at least not before him, but Zexion can’t help but wonder if he’d be ultimately replaced, the question of his age not coming into play when compared to his peers.

Everyone has something they’re good at, it’s what his fa- Ansem had always said, Zexion more than aware that his laid in observations. He was quiet, too many times had neither Axel or Saix had noticed him following them when they were all still whole, an unneeded bribe to buy his secrecy over them having snuck in once more. Ienzo had never done it for the ice cream, not fully, he’d also done it for the opportunity to discover something.

Even now, he’s still curious as to why they were always lurking around Xehanort’s underground lab.

Zexion turns as Xemnas addresses Axel, observing the way the red head tenses under his scrutinous gaze. “The world is called Prydain. It appears to already be mostly swallowed in darkness,” A waver in his voice betrays his nerves before its gone, the usual self-assured persona coming back as if the blip had never happened.

He’s getting better at lying then, Zexion notes, swinging his feet ever so slightly as he listened to the recount of the last world VIII had visited. “Dark, depressing, talk of a horned king and a black cauldron. I couldn’t really gather much information on the world.”

“And why is that?” It’s the same voice, the same mocking tone from that night, like their leader had a joke that no soul else was privy to, humoured by the failure of a mission as if he’d set up Axel to fail. Is Xemnas testing their resolve? Their dedication to the cause? He mostly reserved this antagonising for the red head, as if the rest of them had somehow already been assessed.

Zexion hates it.

“Might I suggest something?” The youngster begins, swallowing back the sudden nerves with an edged annoyance, remembering every etiquette lesson he’d sat through with both Ansem and Even. He didn’t usually speak in meetings, in fact he hadn’t done before, releasing a calming breath before continuing as he attempted to ignore the 7 sets of eyes seemingly boring holes into him. “Would it not be easier to gather information if we blended in more? I’ve only seen Radiant Garden but I don’t believe most worlds dress this way.”

The silence that follows is somehow deafening, Zexion mentally repeating his inner mantra of ‘don’t back down, don’t back down’ as the silence only seemed to grow louder, a familiar static in his ears. Blue meets orange, an elongated pause before Xemnas lets out some semblance of a chuckle, eyes flicking to the higher seats to Zexion’s left. “In that case, see that he’s mission ready. You have six months.”

The meeting continues on as it had before, a feeling of dread curling in Zexion’s stomach as he thinks over the outcome of his outburst. He’s not ready for missions, his grasp of magic is decent but he can’t even summon his own weapon yet. He’s got six months to not only figure it out but also learn to use it to defend himself. The appreciative warmth of Axel’s occasional glance does little to temper the queasiness and the ice of Vexen’s glare. 

 ----

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” He knew it was Axel before the other even spoke, ash and wood smoke, not as much underlying darkness as the others. It was odd, for sure, but not something Zexion paid much heed to as it made a welcome change. He’d taken to the grey area for once, the last place anyone would expect him to dwell, making avoiding Vexen’s wrath over his outburst all the more easier. It had been 3 hours since the meeting drew to a closer, after all.

“I know.” I just don’t like his voice when he talks like that, he adds on mentally, shifting over ever so slightly as the red head sat down beside him, eyes still focused on the reconnaissance report in his hands. Zootropolis. Nobody was…human? Maybe he shouldn’t have opened his mouth after all, frowning as he put the file aside and focused on the next one, this time thankful to see something at least humanoid.

Yet another world where long black coats would stand out too much, Zexion isn’t surprised but still feels the blow of it.

“Is that a rhino in…capris?” Axel’s voice makes Zexion look up, the redhead frowning with pure bemusement at the file Zexion had just put to the side, thumbing through images of various animals both in clothing and doing typically human things, a low whisper of “what the fuck” accompanying the sound of shuffled photographs and pages.

It isn’t as distracting he initially thought, having Axel sat beside him, easy enough to pretend the other wasn’t there as he studied the reports, the occasional sound of Axel reacting to the file or it hitting the table serving as only a minor disturbance. He’ll practise later, when he’s alone, in the privacy of his own room where prying eyes couldn’t see him.

Lexaeus’ warning over keeping the full extent his abilities a secret had gradually extended to the rest of them, despite his now ever pressing anxiety he would be replaced at the drop of a hat. Why had he spoken up? It had only made it worse, now with an added deadline of when it would happen. He should apologise, he should do something to make Xemnas not-

He’s tapped on the nose, an assault of smoke in his senses, Zexion not even bothering to tone down his glare at Axel who, to his credit, didn’t even flinch under it.  “Now that I’ve finally got your attention, I’ll ask again. Do you want to practise?” Practise? Practise what? Zexion frowns at him, trying to convey his confusion over just what the other was trying to ask him only for Axel to sigh and mutter something under his breath.

“Look, you’re like five-“

“I’m ten.”

“You’re five, Xemnas may literally be heartless but even he’s not gonna send you out on your own.” Zexion bites back the anxiety laced retort of ‘he might’, Axel leaning in conspiratorially and the child can’t help but also lean in, expecting Axel to whisper his next words.  “So, do you wanna practise changing the appearance of someone else too?”

“I’ll just practise on Vexen when we next have a lesson.”

“Vexen has seen less missions than even you have.”

He hates that Axel has a point, inhaling through his nose sharply, face twisting with annoyance as he thought over the opportunity. Practise magic and his abilities with someone who isn’t Vexen, come under potentially less scrutiny as expectations were undoubtedly lower, maybe even have a positive response that wasn’t laced with concern and the need for secrecy.

“Fine!”

If Axel is bothered by his tone, it doesn’t show, the older Nobody looking more amused than anything, over exaggerating a bow before his gangly arms gestured to the two piles of reports on the table, one clearly taller than the other. “Pick your poison, Zex.”

He doesn’t bother correcting Axel on the use of the nickname, sending him a withering look before snatching the top three reports of the closest and tallest tower, thankful these were all humanoid in appearance, stretching before turning to face Axel, already mentally hearing one of his elders scold him for having a foot on the seat. A little rebellion made life more interesting, at least that’s what Braig used to say before the accident.

Prydain. Dwarf Woodlands. Kokaua.

The first two are somewhat similar, reminding Zexion of the fairy tales his mother used to read to him, mostly simple garments in muted colours, forests and woodlands twisted into monsters. The images were mostly scenery, Zexion frowning at the lack of reference before pausing on one image of Dwarf Woodlands. A small creature, more of a blurred shadow than anything, partially hidden behind a tree at the edge of the titular woods. “What’s that?”

Axel leans over, a little too close into Zexions’ personal bubble for comfort, glancing at where the child was pointing before shrugging and leaning back after making a non-committal noise. “Probably a heartless, those little shadow ones get everywhere.” But it didn’t look like one, he wants to argue, pursing his lips but electing to not pursue it further.

He hadn’t seen many, Zexion will be the first to admit, a subject he had yet to fully research so maybe Axel was right, that it was just another heartless. If he was ever sent to the Dwarf Woodlands maybe he could even look for it himself, should it still be there.

Filing away that thought for later he turns to the last file, Kokaua, taking a moment to get over the sheer difference between the first two worlds and this one. Not so much a fairy tale but a paradise, bright and vibrant colour in place of the dull muted ones, warmth seemingly radiating from the images both in terms of heat and something more emotional and familial.

He wants to go, part of him wondering if Kairi had ended up somewhere like this. It would only be fitting, she’d always thrived in the warmth and sun, like a blooming flower stretching for the light, still made him wonder what she had ever seen in him as a friend. Closing the file, he puts it back on the pile, mentally weighing up the options between Prydain and Dwarf Woodlands before also placing the latter back, handing Prydain to Axel.

“Oh for…why Prydain?”

Zexion hasn’t schooled himself enough to hide all the amusement from his features, a teasing lilt to his voice as he responds all too matter of factly, as if the answer was obvious. “You’ve been there, you’ve seen the people.” The frustration the flashes on Axels face like fire, all too animated as he attempts to summon an argument in his favour only to ultimately fail each and every time. “You can’t find an argument, can you?”

“Shut up.” He hisses, the prompt for him to get on with changing his appearance going unvoiced but Zexion still hears it loud and clear, picturing what he wanted to appear. Using his abilities had gotten easier with time, becoming less tiring the more he performed feats but this would be the first time he’d used them like this on another, usually the subject of them being himself.

Taking a breath, he allows black coats to transform, replaced with shirts, tunics and leggings, black boots dying themselves brown. Its near perfect, the odd shimmer revealing the illusion for what it was as his brain seemed to become fuzzy around the edges. He drops the illusion at this point, frustrated at his own limitations, wanting to voice his frustrations only to be jolted as a hand came crashing down on his head, ruffling his hair a little too aggressively for Zexion’s liking.

“That went better than I thought it would, wanna go again?”

He does, Zexion waiting for the fuzz to clear before starting the process again, a new found level of giddiness in his chest over the praise.

 --------

Vexen finds him. It takes two days but he finally corners him in the kitchen, seemingly having no qualms with addressing his thoughts about Zexion’s outburst towards Xemnas in front of Lexaeus like he did with everyone else. He was a fool to reject the option of practising the illusions with Axel again, Zexion thinks, doing his best to seek an escape route without relying on a dark corridor or an overly elaborate illusion.

“Sit down, we need to talk.” There’s no room for argument in his tone, Zexion reluctantly sliding into the seat opposite Vexen, staring not at the man but at the space just beside his head. It’s always been like this, when it came to discipline. Vexen would sit opposite him and Zexion would avoid fully looking at him. “I’m not mad with you-“

“Yes, you are.” Zexion can’t help himself, taking the momentary distraction to confirm that, yes, Vexen had closed the door behind him, ultimately cutting off that escape route. Time to be creative then, he was an illusionist after all, waiting for Vexen to put his head in his hands before acting. Checking to make sure Lexaeus isn’t looking, he duplicates himself, allowing his body to disappear as his copy sits where he previously did.

“I’m disappointed and concerned.” Vexen finished, speaking through gritted teeth, an obvious sign that if he wasn’t mad before he was at least annoyed now. “Your want to defend that buffoon is admirable but, no matter how eloquently you put it, undermining the leader to his face is foolish.”

His copy remains sat at the table, schooling the clones face to look guilty as he bit his tongue to avoid spilling the remark of ‘so I should do it behind his back?’. No point in angering the elder further, no doubt he’d been stewing on this since the meeting and Zexion still isn’t one hundred percent sure if that is ultimately going to work in his favour or not.

Sliding up onto the counter, away from where Lexaeus is working, Zexion tenses as his feet hit against eh cupboard door, the rattling seemingly deafening in noise as time seemed to slow. He’d given himself away, the youngster about to reveal himself and apologise when Lexaeus interrupted, the gentle giant knocking his knee against another door. “Apologies, Vexen, I was lost in a thought.”

Speaking to Vexen but looking at him, knowingly, turning back to the book he was thumbing through on the counter barely moments later. He’d been caught by one but not the other, caught but not exposed, a positive thing Zexion hoped. “You may have befriended both VII and VIII but I feel it would be more appropriate that you limited your contact with them. They both, especially VIII, have had a negative effect on you and how you approach things.”

“Would it not be beneficial to talk with people around my own age?” Zexion replies, wincing over the stretch to call either Axel or Saix close to his age, the red head the closest to him in age at a full 7 years his senior. Vexen it appears, is just as aware of this as him, grimacing himself at the knowledge that Zexion was not only correct but truly stuck without peers his own age.

“I suppose. But you must learn to keep your feelings in check, child. We are supposed to not have them after all and more outbursts at Xemnas like that may have less favourable outcomes in future.” Vexen stands after this, reaching out to touch the clone before moving his hand back, sighing deeply. “I just want you to be careful.”

“I will be, I’m sorry.” He’s sorry for concerning Vexen more than he is for his words to Xemnas, relaxing as Vexen accepts this apology and dismisses himself, his clone dissolving with the close of the kitchen door. The silence is somehow still comfortable as the illusion over himself melts away, Lexaeus paying him no mind nor heed at seeing the small Nobody once again.

“Almost perfect.” Is all he says, gesturing to Zexion’s feet with a small smile, before beckoning Zexion over, tapping on the pages of his book. Sliding off the counter, the child hurries over, perhaps a little too excitedly, stepping up onto the foot stool set up for him before Vexen’s arrival in order to make his lessons with Lexaeus easier. “Today’s lesson may be rough on your nose so let me know if it gets too much.”

“What are we learning today?” He’d taken up cooking with Lexaeus a couple of months ago, finding the smell of a dish so perfectly cooked wasn’t so much an attack on the senses as a blessing, something that cleared the overload of darkness that seemed to cling to everything around him. The lessons were infrequent but never unwelcome, always seeming to be therapeutic when compared to his others, like they weren’t lessons to begin with so much as something the pair of them could do together that didn’t centre entirely on the fact they were no longer human.

“Cooking Base.”

 -----

He’s thankful that Xaldin starts off combat training easy, a focus on footwork above all else, closely followed by how to avoid a direct hit when there’s no access to a weapon. So, all the time for him if things didn’t change anytime soon, already a month into training with still no sign of it every appearing. Disguising others and expanding his energy to cast thundara or blizzara he could do, the latter spell bringing nothing but endless pride to Vexen, but his magic was still limited and battling whilst disguised is not something he wishes to think about without a weapon of his own.

It’s too exhausting, his energy already seeping out of him like a bleeding wound every single time he used disguise or magic, the feeling of being a burden having already bloomed within him regardless of who would be his partner for his first mission. Presuming he’d be granted that mercy, nobody still able to confirm if their speculation on Xemnas’ character was correct or not.

“You ready for today, kid?” There’s a promise of something in Xaldin’s voice, Zexion hesitating before nodding, simultaneously curious and somewhat fearful for what the other had planned for him. No threat had been directed at him, that much was true, but he’d bared witness to some of the more rigorous lessons he’d put Axel and Saix through more than once.

The part of him praying for history related mercy, as Xaldin summons not dusks but his spears, Zexion wondering if there’s been a mistake up until one pierces the floor beside him, the child swallowing as the spear dislodges, floating back to its master who seemed a little too thrilled with the prospect of potentially spearing him.

Laziness. He’d comment on the laziness of Axel and Saix when they’d make a mistake, make a snide comment about how Vexen never attended missions, of how he wasn’t pulling his weight. Xaldin wasn’t Dilan, they were nothing alike and Zexion would have to remember that. Dilan wouldn’t hurt him. Dilan would follow him and Kairi around the gardens after the strange creatures showed up to make sure they weren’t hurt. Xaldin, he believes, would not only hurt him but perhaps enjoy it.

“All you need to do is touch me. Consider that a warning shot.”

A warning shot?! Another thick swallow before Xaldin fires once more, no warning or misfire this time, Zexion fully aware that he’d be impaled if he failed to move fast enough, the fresh cut in his right sleeve testament to that. Checking for blood, he turns just in time to avoid another cut, this time to his cheek, breathing a little panicked as he watched the spears return yet again to Xaldin, swaying slightly like snakes waiting to strike.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. He repeats the mantra as Xaldin attacks once more, summoning a wall of ice, a jolt going through him with each sound of the spears connecting with the spell. He wouldn’t have much time, even with a distraction, quickly calculating how many he’d need in order to reach his teacher, taking a slow breath in and then out.

Duplication was the easiest option, the one he was most confident in, copying himself not only once but twice stopping only there as the ice wall began to shatter. Sending both distractions forward, he follows shortly after cloaking himself as he had in the kitchen, remembering what Lexaeus had said and committing it to memory. Almost perfect and he’d need better than that to best Xaldin.

Dilan had ears sharper than glass, often wouldn’t have to look up or turn to call Ienzo out on his attempts to venture out side the castle grounds alone, he could only assume Xaldin would be the same. Zexion doesn’t make it far before his suspicions are confirmed, narrowly avoiding the spear that flew past at speed, the damage it would have caused had it connected not something that child wished to think about.

“Illusions only work if you’re quiet, VI.”

Reduced to a number, Xaldin truly was both frustrated with him and enjoying himself, not bothering to turn as both his clones were impaled and faded, leaving Zexion alone with naught but the spear a hairs breadth away for company. “Let’s try again, shall we?”

If the opportunity ever arose, he’d travel back to inform his past self that lessons with Vexen, as over critical and frustrating as they were, were a joy compared to those with Xaldin, gritting his teeth as a blast of wind pushes him back further than his previous starting position and the training resumes.

 ------

If Xigbar was trying to not be noticed, he was doing a poor job of it, Zexion electing to wait for the another to announce his presence in his usual cocksure fashion as opposed to enquire as to if he wanted something. Better to either ignore the man, and hope he left, or just let him run his course on lingering in the illusionist’s space, until he decided to do whatever it was he had come to do.

Though what Xigbar wanted in Vexen’s lab when the latter wasn’t present escaped Zexion, no matter how long he thought on it.

His chair tilts back ever so slightly as Xigbar leans on it, Zexion inwardly wishing the other had only come in looking for Vexen or to view whatever oddities the other was curating, not bothering to hide his groan of annoyance. Gun smoke and supernovas, it’s an assault on the senses, grimacing as Xigbar leaned down and even closer, like he was fully aware it bothered the young Nobody and, at this point, Zexion was more than aware it was deliberate.

“No need to be so sour, Zexion, I only want to learn something.” Doubtful, Zexion thinks, giving up on the book of spells to stare at the wall opposite, still hoping that ignoring Xigbar would make him leave. It doesn’t, it never does, it’s a fool’s hope and, yet, he still decides to pray for it as if the worlds would somehow have mercy on him. “Something only your observant little head would notice.”

He’s trying to butter him up, sweet talk him into getting what he wants, knowing full well that the child loved praise and taking advantage of it. “Thank you but I have my doubts I’ll have noticed what you want.” Quicker this is over and done with, the quicker he can be left alone. The library had become out of bounds for the most part, far too many times he’d run into both Axel and Saix talking in hushed whispers that would always stop when they noticed Zexion there.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. You practically live in the library. You must have run into moon boy and cinders in there.” Zexion pauses at the names before it clicks, the arm on the back of the chair unbalancing it a little more, Xigbar now leaning down far enough he could whisper directly into Zexions ear. “Just curious as to what they’re doing.”

“They talk and Axel spends the entire time looking at Saix like he’s never seen the sun before.” Zexion replies smoothly, not an entire lie but not a full truth either. The pair talk, this much was true, but the redhead reserved the looks usually for when Saix wasn’t looking at him never when talking to him. If Xigbar isn’t happy with the answer, he doesn’t let on, nodding solemnly as if this is what he wanted to hear.

Something Zexion doubts.

“But what do they talk about?”

Zexion simply fixes him with a look at this, slightly pained and uncomfortable, hoping Xigbar got the message, thankful when he did and stood back up. He mutters something to himself that sounds vaguely like ‘did not see that coming’, almost as if he’d been hoping and expecting to have heard something more fitting with his perceived expectations. “Can I help you with anything else or are you satisfied?”

“Satisfied, for now.” There’s something to that smile that makes him uneasy, Xigbar disappearing through a dark corridor with a wink, or so Zexion thinks, leaving behind the nervous yet bemused child. What in kingdom hearts was that ‘for now’ supposed to mean and, better yet, does he even want to find out?

Its during a break from combat training that he feels the pull again, a strange tightness in his gut as he healed the fresh cuts on his cheek, left leg and side. Xaldin had temporarily benched him due to distraction, shockingly close to caring if not for the fact he’d impaled Zexion to the floor through his coat. Another repair job for Lexaeus, Zexion feeling a tinge of guilt over it.

If he was better at avoiding things, then he wouldn’t be sat casting cure on himself, wouldn’t be stuck on the side lines watching Saix and Lexaeus spar. Perhaps wouldn’t have that tug slowly seep from his stomach to his chest, having appeared the week before and had persisted on making Zexion once again aware of its presence whenever he used magic.

Was he finally get used to casting magic? Maybe not, Zexion biting his lower lip as he thought, steadily becoming lost in them. Growing accustomed to magic was less of a pull but more of a relief, becoming less drained with the use of his abilities thus granting him the ability to experiment more. It had never acted like a magnetic attraction to something he wasn’t sure of yet.

“Shit! KID!”

The yell cuts through his thoughts, looking up not at he sparring two before him but the pair to the side, a spear heading straight for him. His mind is blank, frozen in place like his body, short circuiting as he fails to think of what to do, simply throwing his arms up to protect his face and vitals from being pierced. Only it never hits, the pull in his gut replaced by a different sensation entirely, a connection that feels familiar yet he knows he’s never experienced it before, as the new found silence in the room is shattered by the sound of a spear clattering against the floor by his feet.

Opening his eyes slowly, he carefully lowers his arms, still nervous another spear would be making a beeline for him only to find a book, thick and old, floating in the air before him only to suddenly drop, a thud and a clatter as it the spear and sent it rolling away.

A book. His weapon was a book? His comrades had gained weapons such as swords, lances and claymores and he had gained a book. It’s funny, he thinks bitterly, remembering Ansem’s old words of how knowledge was the most powerful weapon at your disposal and here he was, armed with a tome bursting with pages of lord only knows what.

Its lighter than it looks, Zexion letting out an inquisitive hum as he leafed through the pages, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that losing focus on his surroundings here would be a bad idea. It’s a story and, yet, it isn’t, seeing moments of his own memories printed on pages but also excerpts of Xaldin and Axel, diagrams of their weapons and a basic outline of how they fought with them.  Almost like the book had somehow downloaded all the information it could when the spear had made contact with it.

What else was stored within? How else could he fill the pages? Questions are running a mile and minute in his head as he’s tapped on the shoulder, Saix not speaking, only nodding towards the door to leave, the teenager letting out the barest of winces when Xaldin’s voice grows in volume. Bellowing at Axel over how protecting yourself should not come at the cost of injuring the other in your party.

 ------ 

His first meeting in a while, Zexion having missed the past few due to over working himself or, after a gruelling session with Xaldin, being a little too injured to remain awake enough to attend. Nobody had reprimanded him for it, no snide comment in the grey room from one of his superiors when they found him alone, pouring over the files on worlds he might visit one day. But he still felt on edge, like something was about to happen that he’d be unable to stop even if he tried.

“How has progression with VI been coming along?” Xemnas may be looking at him but he knows the question is directed at the others, Zexion clenching his fists and grimacing. Did he have to be present for this? Of course he did, the Superior’s need to exert his dominance over them all through humiliation was well known now, especially to the youngest two members. If Saix faced the same, it wasn’t done openly and in front of the rest of the Organization.

“His magic is advancing well, a jack of all trades you could say. He’s progressing wonderfully.” Praise from Vexen, not entirely unexpected but still surprising to hear in such a public arena, he must truly be proud of himself for it. Was he bitter? Perhaps, just a little, wishing the blonde could compliment him without boosting his own ego at the same time.

“He’s lacking in physical qualities but he’ll manage. I would advise a companion or two for his first missions as, whilst his weapon has manifested, I doubt he’ll be successful.” A vote of confidence from Xaldin but he’s relieved to say the least, Xaldin had the second highest seat, second only to Xemnas, surely their superior would listen to something he had to say and at least take it into consideration.

Xemnas is quiet, nothing too unusual from the man but it still strikes a spark of uncertainty in Zexion. “Very well, we will continue as planned. Wait for me after the meeting, VI, I have something I wish to discuss.” This was it. He was going to be replaced, Xemnas was going to tell him his fate once his sermon on the power of Kingdom Hearts was over. He was going to be turned into a dusk.

Maybe this was to do with him lying to Xigbar? Had Xigbar figured out his twisted truth and reported him to Xemnas? The anxiety is eating him alive, doubts over the statement they weren’t supposed to feel emotions stronger than ever, the impulse to run and hide becoming harder and harder to ignore the longer Xemnas made him wait outside the Round Room.

“Walk with me.” Is all Xemnas says upon finally appearing, hands clasped behind his back as he strode, Zexion having to jog in order to keep up. “Tell me of your weapon, what have you discovered?” Should he be honest? Xemnas finally slowing his pace when Zexion remained silent, waiting for Zexion to catch up before continuing the walk at more leisurely pace.

“It contains a story made of both my memories and those it comes into contact with.” Zexion replies carefully, watching as Xemnas stiffened, looking back to him with such honest curiosity that the illusionist doubted he had the same man before him. Not, mocking, no sense of an inflated ego, just a lost man who looked a mix of hope and curiosity.

This wasn’t Xemnas. This wasn’t Xehanort. This was someone else.

“Interesting.” Xemnas replies carefully, his usual demeanour seeming to slip back in as a dark corridor opened up before the pair, Zexion looking between his superior and the corridor with confusion. “Search your memories for a girl with blue hair, you’re dismissed.” He leaves with that, stepping through the corridor that closes behind him, leaving Zexion alone in the naughts approach.