He lay on his couch, the life and sanity leaving him like milk leaves a bottle. He didn't know why, but this happened every week now. As he grew closer and closer to losing his mind, the time between these fits grew less and less.
What was his name again?
He felt a hand on his cheek and turned towards it. A warm spoon pressed on his mouth and salty liquid was opoured down his throat. A voice he knew but couldn't name spoke and a hand rubbed his shoulder.
"You'll be ok. You have to be ok. Reily lost to this desease...I don't want to lose you too!"
So he wasn't having a normal fit. He had Nothing's Disgrace. Terrific. Just terrific.
Roxas
Now THAT was a voice he knew well and could put a name to!
"Axel?"
His vision went dark, and the next thing he knew, he was surrounded by a white world. Trees, buildings, even his cloak was now a pale grey. Sitting on a curb, his flaming red hair a stark contrast to the whitish environment around him, was Number 8 himself, the Flurry of Dancing Flames.
"Welcome to the Realm of Twilight, Roxas."