A/N: here's the first chapter of the story! I hope you guys enjoy it as much as you did the prologue!! ^.^


It had been quite a while since the tragedy at Radiant Garden happened. However, though so much had changed, so much had also remained the same. The seemingly unending phase of night into which the world had fallen continued to surround it completely. With no promising sign of dawn anywhere near, the powers of Darkness were able to have full control of Radiant Garden and its citizens; the small world was so tightly surrounded by Darkness that it was asphyxiating. Radiant Garden was henceforth labeled "condemned."

All the scientists in the lab had died, Ansem the Wise included, and all of the citizens began to fear for their lives. Without those brilliant minds to keep searching out ways to protect Radiant Garden from the evils of annihilation, there would be no hope for Good to prevail against Evil. Ansem was the last of the scientists to have died, and the people lived in fright after he did. That is, they lived until they, too, were massacred.

However, the citizens of Radiant Garden did not physically die; they were robbed of their hearts and souls. They became followers of the Heartless – ignorant, immoral, vile little creatures which thrived on the hearts of others. Once one became a Heartless, his only goal was to recruit others to join the havoc-wreaking group. Thus stated, one can live after being robbed of his heart and soul, but he is merely a machine afterward – a machine used to make clones of himself. The life of a Heartless is only a mere metaphor of the actuality of Death.

It wasn't only Radiant Garden that experienced the onslaught of the Heartless, though. There was a small world known as The World That Never Was which also knew of this. However, it was upon this world that Heartless were very seldom found, for in a corner of The World That Never Was stood the magnanimous Castle Oblivion – the fortress which was home to Organization XIII, a group the members of which even the Heartless greatly feared.

The Organization was comprised of the living counterparts of thirteen very strong members from the dead societies of other worlds – Radiant Garden included. The Organization was made up of a race known as "Nobodies" – people who would not even have existed if it weren't for other people having died. The Nobodies were corporeal remains of people who had lost their hearts and souls to the ominous powers of Darkness, and Organization XIII was comprised of the strongest of this race. The first six members of this elitist group were, indeed, the six lab assistants of the late Ansem – or, rather, their six counterparts.

A few minutes after Ienzo had died via strychnine poisoning in the world of Radiant Garden, Zexion was born into The World That Never Was; he was Ienzo's Nobody, Ienzo's counterpart. After that, Xemnas, the Nobody of Xehanort, came into The World That Never Was, and he was followed by Lexaeus, Xigbar, Xaldin, and Vexen – the Nobodies of Aeleus, Braig, Dilan, and Even, respectively. It was Xemnas' decision to create the Organization; he had said it would be best for them to "band together in the case of possible danger." Zexion, who still had Ienzo's death within his memory, initially refused to join Xemnas in this project; he was not about to "band together" with a person who had, technically, murdered him. To this, Xemnas merely replied that Zexion could do as he wished, but, if he were to die in this unknown world, then he (Xemnas) certainly would not feel at fault for it. Zexion, after hours of debating with himself, finally agreed to go along with the plan.

The newly formed "Organization," after living long without an actual roof above their heads, found an abandoned castle which Xemnas decided they would call "home." The place was extremely bland; everything was white. There were so many rooms and corridors that one could easily get lost within the fortress's stone walls. However, what other choice did they have?

It took quite a while to get acquainted with the castle, but once they finally got settled, it was almost as though they were back at Radiant Garden in Ansem's lab. Almost.

"Lexaeus?" Zexion asked one day when he and Lexaeus were both in the library. Zexion was sitting rigidly on the couch, a book open in his lap, and Lexaeus was standing in front of the window, looking outside at the eternally dark sky.

"Yes?" Lexaeus replied solemnly, turning his head in Zexion's direction, raising an eyebrow. Zexion removed the book from his lap and placed it beside him before standing up from the couch. He walked over to Lexaeus and looked up at him through his one visible eye.

"D-do you… do you think that we could… well…" Zexion stuttered.

"Six," Lexaeus said emotionlessly as he turned to the window once more; "you know as well as I that we can no longer feel anything – and that includes love. We're Nobodies; we don't even logically exist."

"I... I know that," Zexion tried to counterattack; "but... but do you think that m-maybe perhaps we... we could pretend to... to lead the lives we once did?"

"Ienzo and Aeleus are dead," Lexaeus said coldly as he looked down at his subordinate. This made Zexion stop breathing for a moment. "And living in a dream never does any good; it only does harm. Living in reality is the only way that we can hope to survive. You would do best to realize that and not waste yourself away on mere dreams and illusions that will never happen in actuality." These words, surprisingly, didn't sting. Was it true? Was it really true that they were unable to feel?

"Hah," Zexion said, "I need not worry about 'wasting myself away,' Lexaeus."

"You will do nothing short of that if you wonder why we cannot be as Ienzo and Aeleus were."

"Oh, it's quite the contrary," Zexion retaliated in a melancholy voice. "I can wonder all I want. After all, one cannot die once already dead."

With that, Zexion walked swiftly over to the couch, picked up his book, and created a portal to his room. He wondered why salty tears refused to fall from his eyes and burn his skin, but then it occurred to him...

...he didn't know how to cry.

******

Through the years, the Organization had been admitting new members until they reached thirteen. Zexion didn't particularly know how to react to the new members of their group; he had taught himself – since the incident with Lexaeus had happened years before – that it would be impossible for him to ever love or be loved, and he finally came to terms with the fact that Nobodies could not have any sort of emotion. Thus stated, he usually spent most of his days locked up in his room studying nothing in particular or sitting in a corner of the library... well... studying nothing in particular. Either that, or he would think; he would think about what it would be like to be able to love – and be loved in return. He had looked up "love" in the dictionary, and it sounded quite nice; he thought it would be lovely to have somebody care for him. But then he would walk about the castle and observe everybody else, and he decided that all hope was gone, if it ever existed to begin with. After all, the Organization was a group of elite immoralists who were ignorant in the face of emotion; they killed without a thought. Zexion decided that it would never be possible.

******

One afternoon, Xigbar had returned from a mission in which he had slain many Heartless, and he was bragging about it to Marluxia.

"Ah, you shoulda seen it, dude!" Xigbar exclaimed, his eyes prideful. "There I was, amidst loads of the little bastards, and–"

"Why is Number Six always so quiet?" Marluxia interrupted thoughtfully, a perplexed look on his face.

"Huh?" Xigbar asked, dumbstruck by Marluxia's question. After a few seconds, though, it sank in. "Well, that was random. Anyway, I don't know. Probably because he's so damn boring, and all he ever does all the time is read."

"Hmm..." Marluxia murmured, thinking to himself.

"You look as though you're plotting something," Xigbar said in a suspicious voice, his eyes narrowing. "Should I fear for my life?"

"For one thing, you're not even technically 'alive,' you idiot," Marluxia retaliated. "You should know that better than I do. And, for another thing, no, I am not 'plotting,' as you put it. I'm just..."

"... plotting?" Xigbar suggested, an eyebrow raised.

"No. Thinking," Marluxia corrected. "Why would he always want to be alone? I wonder if he ever gets lonely..."

"Yo, why do you even care, Marly?" Xigbar asked, seriously wondering.

"Don't call me that," Marluxia growled in a warning tone. "And... I don't know."

"Uh-huh. Keep tellin' yourself that, pal," Xigbar said, smiling. He then chuckled and patted Marluxia on the shoulder before walking away.

******

Zexion was walking about the castle when, all of a sudden, he smelled flower blossoms. He stopped walking and became rigid as a steel pole as Marluxia's portal materialized and said man stepped out of the darkness. Zexion wanted to disappear; he did not like being around anyone and usually refrained from engaging in said action unless he was forced to – such as in Xemnas' annoying meetings.

"Hello," Marluxia said simply. Zexion merely nodded his head in response, showing that he acknowledged Marluxia's existence – or, rather, his technical lack thereof. A period of silence ensued during which Zexion merely stared at his feet and Marluxia stared at Zexion.

"So," Marluxia said, breaking the less-than-symbolic moment of silence, "I notice that you spend quite a lot of time alone."

"You notice," Zexion repeated in a voice completely lacking of emotion.

"Yes," Marluxia stated, "I do. And I wish to know the reason why."

"Is it safe for me to infer that you are giving me an order?" Zexion asked, turning his attention from his feet to Marluxia and raising his visible eyebrow. "For, if that is what you are doing, I will not hesitate to remind you that I am, indeed, your superior, Number Eleven."

"For your information, I am neither 'ordering' you to do anything, nor would I ever wish to challenge your position as one of the higher-ups of this Organization," Marluxia replied, amazingly keeping his composure. "I am simply wondering why you insist upon distancing yourself from everyone else."

"What I do is no business of yours, Number Eleven."

"Oh, do I detect a hint of fiery emotion in your tone of voice?" Marluxia asked a bit teasingly. Zexion, however, did not find this the least bit funny.

"You know as well as I do that we cannot feel anything," Zexion said. "Attempting to believe that we can only shows that you live within the realm of dreams, and living in dreams never does any good; it only does harm." Then, before summoning a portal to his room, Zexion looked directly into Marluxia's eyes as he added in a soft voice, "You would do best to realize that and not waste yourself away on such petty things as dreams and illusions."

"One cannot die once all ready dead!" Marluxia shouted after Zexion as the teenager's portal closed, leaving Marluxia alone in one of the castle's many white hallways. "Hah, how ironic," Marluxia thought, looking about him at all the whiteness. "White – the color of hope. Was Xemnas a damn masochist when he decided what color to paint these walls?"

And with that, he summoned a portal to his own room, red flower petals cascading to the white floor, painting the white canvas. Red – the color of blood. Red mixing with white; blood mixing with hope.