The past grows more distilled, as if I'm looking through water trying to remember what just happened. Gunshots, bodies, violence, blood…so, so much blood. I feel nauseous thinking about it all. My mind becomes confused at my memories. What happened, I can't recall. Where I was, why I am here - I can't answer any of these questions. Ugh, my head hurts.

There's a light. I try and reach, to stretch my arms and grasp the warmth pulsing down on me -

But, wait. Should I reach it?

I don't care. I'm cold and aching and I want out of here.

I'm resurfaced from darkness, a clear sky and sun beaming overhead. Where am I? Did I die?

I don't like this. I don't know anything. I'm still cold, confused, nauseous and lightheaded and - more importantly - I need help getting up. My body feels as if it's made of lead. It's a difficult struggle to regain feeling in my numb and tingling body but I manage to compose enough strength to lift myself to a cross legged position. When I put my hands on the ground, my clumsy fingers grip white sand. Stains of scarlet dot the land around me and the sight of scenery sends a painful stab in my temples. I squint, continuing to scan the area despite the torturing agony sizzling my brain. Off in the distance I see a waterfall, vegetation consuming the gray rock walls. A tree house is across from it, a tarp hanging over the doorway, painted crimson. There's also a dock a few yards to my right; the water at my feet and underneath the port lapping swiftly and tenderly against small rocks. Cautiously, I stumble to obtain balance, my legs shaky as if I were nervous. My armour clanks as I slowly venture to the small wooden dock. Starfish and discarded seaweed are strewn across its surface - along with various weapons: knives, swords, spears, guns, even a ninja star and bow. I'm clueless as to what might've happened, then a sudden flashback washes over me.

The war - it's not over. Not until I'm dead.

I examine my reflection in the waters surface. My cinnamon hair is in complete disarray - more than usual - and streaks of blood cover my armour, face, and chocolate hair. Even if I was screened with blood - mine or someone else's, I cannot tell - I was prepared to keep fighting. I climb up the ladder to the dock and comprehended what I could do with the weapons. Should I leave them there for others, or look for them and deliver something and hope they can use it? I don't even know who is still alive.

Before I can make a solid decision, darkness engulfs me again, or so it seemed. A swirling mass of black floats just on the edge of the dock, at least three to five feet away from me. Paralyzed, I stood frozen to place as if I'm glued and stared as a shape materialized out of the dark corridor. The shape looks almost human, except for those hollow gold eyes. A smile curled the Nobody's lips as if he is amused but I know there was no emotion behind the action. Striding forward, I tense under the protective amour, anticipating his next move.

No need to be paranoid," he Nobody says, his deep voice demanding and superior. I stand my ground, staring him down, refusing to look away. He chuckles and walks closer. "I hope you're not planning on attacking me."

I ready my Keyblade and continue my staring. But before I could there's a loud pop and blood sprayed from Xemnas' temple and he fell to the ground, dead. His skin was peeling and charring an bursting into tiny flames. I stare as he disintegrates, then whip around at the sound of footsteps slapping against the wet dock.

"Riku?" I stare at the silver-haired man holding a gun. "Why didn't you use your Keyblade?"

"He would have had time to kill me if I got any closer," he says solemnly, his face grim and frown warn out. Time has withered him into a frail and temperate man with a small hot fuse when he was stressed, I notice. I also notice he's holding a simple pistol and a big black book with the Nobody insignia on it; undoubtedly Zexion's lexicon. Of course, he has the same black and gold armour as me and blood smeared his face and bruises were visible everywhere but I can tell he isn't in tremendous pain. His silver hair is streaked with red.

"So," I start, staring at the ocean. "Everyone is dead."

Riku hesitates for a small moment. "Yes. It's only me and you."

I don't say anything back. He can tell I'm sad by my lack of words.

"Come on. I called for Cid to pick us up." He begins walking away on a slight limp in his step. Slowly following him, I stumble behind, hoping he won't leave me behind. He leads the way up a ramp, across a bridge and to another patch of separate land that was connected to the island by that bridge. On this piece of beach, trees grow. One of them - the important one - is curved outward so that half of the thick trunk hangs over the edge of the island and swings its leaves over the blue-green ocean when the wind caught it. A star shaped piece of fruit is growing underneath the hefty leaves; it was barely noticeable.

Riku sits on the trunk of the paopu tree and I join him. We sit in silence, staring out at the crystal clear water of the sea, only the rush of the distant waterfall I saw earlier and the beating laps of quickening waves slapping against the shore filling the quiet. In this rising sun's light, his hair looks shinier, more of a timber wolf, and his eyes were pools of aqua that reflected the sea.

"We have to resign," he finally says, staring blankly out at the fish swimming along the undertow.

I stare at him disbelievingly. "What? We - we can't resign, Riku! We have to defeat the Organization! It's not over until -"

"I've already made up my mind." He interjects, his face a solid mask of seriousness, but I can easily sense the haggardness. He sighs, his tired eyes hallowing. "Xemnas is dead. He was their leader and you and I both know that Saïx will now be the new leader. He's more cunning and less laid back than Xemnas. I gathered reports from Cid a few days ago. They claimed the Organization has made new characters via Replica Program. Why I have Zexion's lexicon is because I need to discard it before the new members come back to retrieve it for him. It won't make much progress soon, but we're off retreating to Radiant Garden to find more information on the newfound Nobodies."

"That's going to take forever. We don't have much time! Either we have to recruit new members of our own or -"

"This is my decision, I hope you know that," he turns to me, finality and irritation written on his blood-splattered face. "Everyone else is dead on our team is dead. It's only me, you, and comrades at Radiant Garden. This is our only choice."

"No it's no," I persist. This couldn't be the end; I knew it wasn't. "We can take them out ourselves. You know we -"

"All I know is that we need more people on our side before we can fight again. Why can't you accept that right now we're powerless?"

"You have a Keyblade too! That should be good enough!"

"Then how do we beat all of them with only two Keyblades? We'll get slaughtered the first ten seconds of the battle."

"We can still try."

Riku is silent, staring back at me as if he was considering my thought, then shook his head. "No. We're going back. We need medical treatment." Standing up, he holds out his hand, helps me to my feet, and begins walking away in long strides. Balance is easily gained this time and I run after him down the ramp and through a tiny shack. Inside are wood walls and stairs that we climb. There is a door at the top of the flight and, opening it, we are consumed by the sun's heat and light once again, and then we wait on the edge of a small mountain overlooking most of the island. A series of black and gold dots cluster here and there on the shore and it takes me a moment to realize that they're our friends, wearing the same armour as Riku and I. My stomach clenches at the pang of nostalgia and repulsion that hits my gut. They should be alive, healthy, not dead on the beach, covered in blood and sweat. The scene of dead bodies is horrifying to look at yet it was impossible to look away.

I turn my gaze to Riku , who was intently watching the open sea again. His eyes stay, unmoving, so he had to be staring at something…

"You miss this place, don't you?" I finally say, snapping him out of his reverie. "I do, too. You know, before all this started up and it was just me, you, Kairi, and…" my voice trailed but he understands who I was about to say next.

"He was different from the rest," Riku says, his voice small yet defiant, strong. "He used to always space out. That's what made him different."

I look down. "He was one-of-a-kind."

He nodded. "Yes. No one could ever replace him. After he got his own heart, and before this whole war started, he never talked to you again?"

My heart squeezes. I know he was gone, but being reminded makes the memory more painful. Staring out at the ocean with intense concentration, my jaw clenches and my eyes narrow against the bright sun. Finally I say, "No, he didn't."

He looks at the ground, examining the rocks and cracks with false interest. "Oh. I'm sorry."

I sigh. "It's fine. I don't care if he never talks to me ever again; I just want to know if he's okay or not."

"I know. Me too."

The conversation stops there, since the subject of it made us realize that we actually don't know where he is. My heart squeezes again.

"So many things have changed in the past few years," Riku finally speaks, his tone holding a note of incredibility. "This war, the Organization, Roxas becoming a Somebody…"

"How did that happen, again?"

"When everything was fine - before the war - Roxas used to secretly go out to different worlds and collect hearts for Kingdom Hearts, so he would eventually have his own. The Organization had no idea of this and they were starting to grow more and more agitated. Soon, Kingdom Hearts was complete but something went wrong: none of the Nobodies gained hearts. They suspected that the hooded stranger they occasionally spotted got his heart, since he was the only one collecting them at the time and was able to even get them."

"Where did Kingdom Hearts go?" Riku asks.

"Cid's reports didn't go that deep," I say.

Silence falls between us again and we stay at a loss of words for a longer period of time. I can tell he feels bad for me. Not having to deal with a once-was Nobody is a relief sometimes but Roxas and I were best friends. My mind is a blank to open conversation. But then Riku speaks up, his voice grim.

"I hope Roxas didn't join them again."

Another dark corridor, much like Xemnas' portal, appears and a blue-haired man stepped through, a scowl painting his face. Riku's expression stays the same.

"I see you have disposed of Xemnas." Saïx says, stepping closer. Riku stands defiantly with his chin held up and back straight and a burning gleam in his eye. I was never the tough one in battles; but now I'm more prepared as my Keyblade materializes in my hands.

"Yes. We have," I reply, attempting to stand proud and tall next to Riku. "I'd advise you to return to the Organization, Saïx. as of right now, I'm not in a very good mood."

Saïx shakes his head, disapproved. He stretches out his arm, his hand glowing a strong blue. Then he's holding his weapon: his Claymore. He holds it expertly, as if he was born to wield it. A small, mocking smile plays on his lips. "That's too bad," he says, his focus squared in on Riku, because he knows he's the leader here, gold eyes burning menacingly. "I was hoping to get at least a little fight out of you."

"Well if that's what you wanted…" Riku's hand glows black and he's instantly equipped with his Keyblade. "Bring it on."

Smiling, the Luna Divider brings his weapon down and delivers the first blow of the battle. Riku and I both dodge out of the way and aimlessly start attacking Saïx while he's drawing back for another swipe of the Claymore. We get hit multiple times, and to a normal person, they would have been fatal, but we have trained our bodies to take extreme amounts of pain and torture to survive battle.

I stand off to the sidelines for a moment, weighing my options for on how to defeat him. Waiting for the correct moment, I aim my Keyblade at Saïx. When he ends his simple cycle of attack patterns, he rests for a second. But before I can land an attack on him, a hooded figure bursts in, ushers Saïx through a new dark corridor, and disappears. Momentarily stunned, I slowly lower my weapon, looking over at Riku. He seems at a loss of words, and I can somehow tell he has the same exact thought I had: That was Roxas.

For a moment, everything stops: time, our breathing, sense of focus on each other and reality. There isn't anything to distract us. The time turns inconsequential and pointless as we refer to the memory a few moments old. The reverie snaps as abruptly as it has come. We stare at one another for what seems like eternity, then Riku's Keyblade disappears from his hands, and falls to the ground. I rush over to him, refusing to share any words. Not a single one could define what we have realized.