Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any related characters.
This is pretty much going to be an irregularly-updated collection of loosely connected oneshots. Some will be shorter, some longer; some will focus more on Zexion, some more on the clones. This first chapter can be from the point of view of any of the three clones and serves as explanation, hopefully the rest won't be so boring. But let's not waste any more time, shall we?
I have no beginning. I have no end.
I have my lexicon, which keeps my transient form and consciousness bound to reality.
I have my master, who created me to suit his needs and desires.
I have a sea of disconnected memories, none of which I know for sure to be mine.
"You are a copy of me," my master tells me in one of the memories. "As a creature of my design, I expect you to obey my every command to the final word. If I wish it, you are to be my weapon and shield."
Along with that memory are dozens more of me in battle, fighting for my master with a fake weapon given to me until the enemy destroys my mock lexicon and I fade into nothingness. Ensuring that I fear my master above all else is tenfold the number of memories of him sending me to oblivion with his own hands. It's paradoxical, nothing still conscious should be able to remember being destroyed.
Of course, my master has covered all of his bases in constructing my mind. I can recall him telling me that my memories were implanted in me. The purpose was so that I wouldn't have to be told what I am and who he is and other such basic information. This lecture, too, is an implanted memory.
I share memories with previous copies of my master and many more to come. I sometimes wonder if they were all actually experienced by previous clones like me. Most of them could have been completely fabricated to begin with. Sharing my master's natural curiosity, I ponder what the stream of memories and thoughts means for me. If the self is corporeal, does that make me a mere mockery of an individual with my mutable form? Or, if the self lies within the consciousness, does that make me an immortal being, constantly shifting from one barely-there body to the next?
My master dislikes when I think about such ideas, so I try to avoid them. My fear of him is unbelievably profound. I can boast many of the same skills and much of the same knowledge as he does: I have a wide knowledge of psychology, my internal library of literature is well-versed, and I can expertly perform advanced statistical analysis. However, he knew better than to share all of his abilities with me. I have virtually no illusion-creating abilities of my own, but he is perfectly capable of both creating illusory objects and altering his own appearance. My lexicon is nearly useless save for keeping my mind attached to a body, but he can trap a person inside his lexicon and it can lose an infinite number of pages without being destroyed.
Most disturbing of all is his ability to collect information from and insert knowledge into his copies. Whenever he digs into my mind for information, it feels like an alien presence has entered my mind and is sorting through my thoughts and memories to take something away. The process of receiving is even worse – just thinking about it makes me cringe. Usually, he will gather some knowledge or skill from an enemy to transfer. When he gives it to me, it feels like something that shouldn't be there is being violently forced into my consciousness, stretching it painfully. As a result of the process, I instantly become a master swordsman or an expert at hand-to-hand combat, but the mental assault is equal to how the body feels being raped. The only thing that keeps me collected is the hope that the sooner I finish the assigned task, the sooner the offending intruder will be removed.
Somehow, I expect my master has other skills his clones are unaware of to keep us in check. I think they are some of very few things I would prefer not to know.
My portrayal of my existence (or my mockery of it, rather) heretofore has been rather bleak, but it is not all gloom and storm clouds. Actually, to the extent of my knowledge, I am mostly used for less trying purposes than fighting. I think this is because my master is often sent on missions that require more than brute strength to garner success. My usual tasks are generally mundane chores my master tends to let accumulate.
Joining me are two other copies created in the same fashion as me. Specific personality traits were manipulated to make each of us rather different from the others, but the majority of our personalities are the same as that of our master. Among those traits left intact is a pronounced egotism (though in some cases I might go so far as to call it narcissism). Fortunately, this works in our favor, and a mutual contentedness accompanies our fraternity. When you are as enamored with yourself as we are, it's very easy to get along with two comrades who are very mentally similar and physically identical to you.
On the rare occasion I tire of the other two copies and have not yet been erased from the world, there are always plenty of Dusks and Creepers to speak with. What I find most enjoyable about their company is the fact that they don't waste time gossiping or telling lies. Dusks are rather intelligent for creatures I am not entirely sure have brains; they're very perceptive, really. Greater Nobodies other than my master tend to dismiss the myriad similarities between themselves and lesser Nobodies. Of course, I can probably empathize with them so easily because we are in similar stations, dismissed as expendable grunts.
Much of my knowledge about Dusks results from extensive studies of them, which I greatly enjoy. My master apparently transferred his curiosity regarding lesser Nobodies to his copies. Often finding himself short of the time, he assigns us to perform research and report the results to him. The reports we write very well may be the only proof we clones have that we were ever here.
And perhaps that is what my master is seeking as well. Not exactly to become human once more through attainment of Kingdom Hearts, but rather, he is struggling to accomplish something great so that he can say that he was here, that Zexion was a living organism, capable of leaving his mark on the world.