They were lost to the darkness. VIII had just come back with news of the fates of those in Castle Oblivion. Though, Xaldin had a hunch that the Flurry of Flames' hands were not as clean as he wanted the others to think. Hell, Xaldin was quite sure that Axel was the cause of most, if not all, of the deaths that occurred.

And yet, the lancer could not summon the energy to hate him. Even as Xaldin watched Axel give his report with fake sympathy lacing his words, he couldn't bring himself to feel hate for the man. Not even anger. When lancer finally noticed the grin in Axel's eyes, his sickly acid green eyes, he could not take anymore. Rising from his seat in the meeting hall, he quickly excused himself. He knew he was going to get hell for it later, yet he didn't care. And that was what was scaring him.

He had known Ienzo. He had known Elaeus. He had grown up with Even. Yet, he couldn't feel anything for the loss of them. When had this happened?

Xaldin found himself wandering down the halls of their Castle That Never Was. In fact, he was aimlessly wandering, so very lost in his thoughts. When he had first become a Nobody, nothing had seemed different from when he was Dilan. He still felt emotions, or so he thought. Maybe Xehan- No, Xemnas' rants were correct? They were shadows of the emotions. Had he acted out of the memories of his former self and mistaken them as real? At first, Xaldin marked it to Xehanort's insanity.

But then Xaldin realized. He was very different than Dilan. They were all different.

As the lancer walked, he pasted by Xigbar. II gave a curt nod and carried on, with other matters to attend to since the meeting was over.

Xaldin had remembered, back during their apprentice days, Braig was never one to let a person go by without asking how their day had been. He had always been gruff, yet there was a single hint of brotherly love with all his actions. Where was the brotherly love now? If anything, there was always an under layer of cruelty to the man. Xigbar, unlike Braig, never had time for casual talk. After he became a Nobody, he didn't even have time to pester Even, one of Braig's favorite activities.

Ahh, dear Even. The now lost forever, Even. Though he was lost on that day ten years ago, anyway. As soon as his heart left him, there was no chance. No chance for all of them. Yet, Even- No, Vexen, had been the one to change the least. Back at Radiant Garden, Even avoided human contact as much as humanely possible. But every once in a while, out of pure necessity, he would socialize. As a Nobody, he never bothered with the socializing. Pride must not have been an emotion, because Vexen was filled with it. More so than Even ever was.

It had been ten years since that day. The day where they all plunged into darkness, giving their very hearts to science, or so they thought. Instead, they ended as shells of who they once were. And they found themselves craving the very thing they had so willingly given up. They had not become heroes, finding the cures to all the world's ailments. They had become these… corpses. Without hearts for emotion. Acting, clinging, crying over memories that never would be theirs again. Was that why they have always so eagerly devoured Xemnas words of faux hope? Of hearts? Of Kingdom Hearts?

Kingdom Hearts was not going to work. He was pretty sure every Nobody with a half a brain knew this. Yet, they still clung to the fake hope. What other choice did they have? This state of nonexistence ate away at one's sanity if they had nothing to hope for, he supposed. He had remembered talking to Zexion about this before he left for Oblivion. He agreed with Xaldin about the futility of Kingdom Hearts.

Zexion… Ienzo. When Ienzo had first joined their makeshift family, he had only been a boy. A small boy, wailing for his mother. He was the youngest of all the apprentices. Almost like the baby. Almost. He had always been smarter than all the rest of them. Dilan might have been jealous, but Ienzo never bragged. He simply sat, read, absorbed, and shared. In classes, he had always been the most excited about learning a new subject. He would set to tasks with such vigor and life, Xaldin was surprised he hadn't noticed until now that it was gone. As Zexion, he would simply have someone else do his work for him as he invented countless stratagems. Ienzo would never have been the type to scheme. And yet, his title in the Organization was the "Cloaked Schemer."

Xaldin found himself on the pathway to Lexaeus' vegetable garden. Strange. A man who couldn't show emotions to others had a garden. Somehow he had found a way to cultivate vegetables that grew without light. But they had to be watered constantly. The lancer assumed that they must have all died by now, gone to the grave with their caretaker.

Memories of Elaeus came rushing to Xaldin in a blur of motion. They had always jokingly called him a "Mother Hen." And still, Elaeus was a Mother Hen to all of them. Braig had once told Dilan that he had always supposed that the man had come from a very large family. He must have been one of the oldest, always looking after the others. If the slightest thing was wrong with any of his new "siblings", Elaeus would sense it and offer his comfort. But it was never with words. It was more of him lending his quiet strength to warm and heal. Yet, as soon as they became Nobodies, Xaldin could tell that Lexaeus was different. His strength was no longer warm. It was cold, isolated. He would not offer comfort. Even when they had first started finding the Neophytes, sobbing and scared as they were, there was no comfort to be had. A simple stoic stare from the large man. Nothing more, nothing less.

Stepping into the garden, Lexaeus' haven from his own nonexistence, Xaldin had expected to find it in rotting ruins. Instead, what the lancer found surprised him.

Demyx, sitar out and eyes closed, sitting in the middle of the garden, watering the vegetables.

A euphoric expression graced the man-No, just a boy's, face. A slow, melodic waltz was coming from his instrument, commanding the water to dance into the ground. Xaldin could do nothing but watch. This boy, this Neophyte, had everything they lacked. Everything they strived for. Everything they begged any heavenly figure who just might be listening for. This boy had a heart. Or was it the strong memory of one? The memory the musician refused to let go. Because he still had hope.

Hope. They all had some small fraction of hope. But it was diluted with doubt. Only Demyx seemed the one to have pure, unadulterated hope when gazing at Kingdom Hearts. Maybe that's what Xaldin lacked? Was that why he couldn't feel anything for his fallen friends?

After what seemed an eternity, the water mage opened his eyes and glanced up. Instantly the music came to a halt as he hastily pulled himself from his sitting position in the now damp ground.

"Uh, um, Number III, sir," the young boy stammered nervously, "I was…. Umm. Just… I was…"

"It's alright, IX. I saw," Xaldin interrupted before the Neophyte could truly get worked up. But something was bothering the lancer. What was the point? He could only form all his scattered thoughts into one question for the boy.

"But why?"

The sitarist looked surprised. "Why…?" he questioned, his voice almost a whisper. He seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment as he glanced towards the ground.

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed quickly as he jerked his head up. He looked Xaldin directly in the eyes. A challenge to the higher ranking Nobody.

"Why?" he asked more confidently, "Because it seemed to mean so much to Lexaeus. He put his very heart into it. When he left, I didn't want all his work to be for nothing. So, I've been taking care of it." He stood confident before Xaldin.

Demyx was the one who always protested that the Nobodies really did have hearts. Maybe this was another form convincing himself he was right. Or giving himself the pure hope. But he seemed so sure of himself. He knew he was right. He could feel he was right.

"But, he's gone." Xaldin's reply sounded weak, even in his own ears.

"So?" the boy responded calmly, "You could say it's my way of honoring the man."

- - -

On the day of his fading, Xaldin understood the truth.

"What do you guys really want?!"

"Kingdom Hearts. When Kingdom Hearts is ours, we can exist fully and completely."

Xaldin wasn't thinking of himself or any of the Originals. He knew they could never exist fully and completely again. They had been too weakened by their doubt. They were too unpure for hearts.

When the keyblade master came at him with the fury of a demon, Xaldin fought back with all the desperation he had within his nonexistence. He poured his very essence into his spears. Though, he discovered near the end… He wasn't even fighting for himself.

As he felt himself fading, his dying cry echoing in his ears, he wondered if the musician would do anything to honor him.