Lord Anubis, steal them by the hand and lead them in-between to the world you crafted with your imagination. Pluck those wary souls from the dirt and give them another purpose. Like Davy Jones guides the sea, deviously conduct the forgotten beings into rank. Give them a name. Call them to sleep. Call them to dream of a day that will not come.
Lord Anubis, preserve the body, the soul, and the…heart in coffins, rooms, in containers. Set payment on their eyes so that behind shut lids, they look no where else but into the very irises of the afterlife. Or maybe even beyond that.
Lord Anubis don't tip your scale. Please don't skew the balance in the clamped fist. In your hand you hold the law, and in your eyes you see everything yet nothing at all, and with the flick of your ear you hear their many voices. Your arms weld the steal hot from the pits of burning hell fire, and your words snarl at the wolf who bays pitifully to the moon. But your mind always forgets when your mighty brittle soul starts to remember.
Lord Anubis? Am I, are we, are you ready?
Lord Anubis…Xemnas?
No, not yet.