She saw his ability only once. The ability to shift and change; your greatest fear, the love of your life, your mirror image... Namine shivered thinking of it.
The Organization had enemies in the darkness just as anything else did, and it was no secret that Castle Oblivion was a station for several members. Word had gotten out that the members there were markedly weaker than those in the World That Never Was.
She watched from her expansive quarters, her cage, hand and forehead pressed against the window as raindrops splattered against it and spiraled down in cool streams. From her vantage point, she could see the hundreds of the dark beings poised and clamoring for combat.
Finally, tendrils of shadow crept across the grass, and he stepped out, calm as could be. A languorous snap of his fingers, and the lexicon came fluttering from nowhere into his hands; he flipped several pages, and offered the horde a bored wave of his arm.
It happened very suddenly: several began shaking, more dropped to their knees, and then one made a horrible screaming sound, piercing even from her distance. The one flailed somewhat and struck, snakelike, felling those around him in a deluge of red – he watched, coolly turning another page.
Namine jerked away from the glass as if shocked, hand going to where her heart should be. Then, as though called, his eyes rose to where she was; the rain has plastered his hair to his skin, but she could see the gleam in his eye.
She heard the shadows behind her and whirled, taking a step back, away from him. "What...what did you do to them?"
"I gave them an enemy better suited to fight them." He sounded amused.
"You..." She took another step back, and her shoulders hit the wall. Her throat tightened, and her voice lowered. "Marluxia's not the most dangerous one here, is he...?"
There was silence, for a moment, then he grinned mirthlessly. "That honor goes to you, witch."