Gone. They had taken him.

They had taken my best friend.

They had taken my heart, which I earned if my memories of a past life meant anything.

I fell to my knees. Those evil people had taken nine of us. Nine, out of our original fifteen.

I saw Saix stare aimlessly at the burning debris that used to be a wall. Xemnas, our leader, was gone.

Luxord attacked the already destroyed furniture. Xigbar, our resident Pirate gunman had been 'pirate' knapped.

Xaldin, Lexaeus, and Namine had been captured. They had been our three mother hens.

Marluxia was hunched in a burnt out corner. Vexen, the mad scientist, Taken.

Roxas curled in on himself. The usually stoic and strong mask dropped as he cried silently. Axel, lovable pedo pyro. Gone.

Xion, holding Roxas while sobbing herself. Larxene, lovely, bitchy Larxene. Taken.

I felt tears burn my eyes.

I couldn't cry. I was Zexion! 1/5 brains of our whole group. I could not cry!

But tears raced down my face anyway. Because tears...emotions...feelings don't give a flying fucking pickle about statues, brain power, or image.

Because they had taken him.

They had taken the sweet, kind, beautiful musician. Demyx. Demyx was gone...