Exist to Destroy

Pounding footsteps. Echoing screams. The shadows spread like the plague; for every one cut down, another took its place. For every slash of the blade spent a second of running was gone, seconds which one needed if they were to make it to the INFI in time. Zexion's mind, calm, cool and calculating and, as always, unphased by the turmoil, did the math. If they all ran straight for the exit only twenty one point eight three per cent could hope to reach the ship before the Shadows did. That was six or seven people. Six or seven!

"Take that you slimy black... Bug... Thing! Eat rock!" a voice roared, and the sounds of fists pummeling the aptly named Bugthings were actually audible.

But that wasn't what was happening. Some, like the vulgar and somewhat mentally lacking Beat, fought off the vermin, and was surprisingly effective, despite his manner of doing so. Maybe there was still hope! He resumed running, sprinting, pushing his body forward with every muscle.

Claws, sharp as knives, raked down the back of Zexion's leg, sinking into his skin and causing him to scream in pain. In retaliation, he acted instinctively, whipping out his blade and plunging it into the creature's core. Since the Shadow had no concrete form, the amount of resistance the sword met was quite surprising; it was most comparable to human flab, rather than the Jell-O substance he had expected. And yet as soon as the thing was slain, it dissolved into nothing, rather like when a colored liquid is poured into water, or smoke mixes with air; swirls and coils, slowly thinning and dissipating. For a minute, he stood still, dazed; had he really done that? But when adrenaline like this was coursing through his body, it were as though someone had flicked a careless lit match on oil; he no longer thought, only acted and reacted.

A sob rang out through the hall, a cry not of horror or fright like the many others that resounded through the cold, stone hall, but of pain and despair. It was a child's voice.

Lexaeus tilted his head, doing his best to trace the sound while simultaneously keeping the Shadows that swarmed round his feet at bay. For some reason, unbeknownst to the sandy-haired individual, they appeared to flock to him more than any other in the room. Perhaps it was his size and build, incredibly disproportionate to his young age, and the strength it brought. In any case, it was the sound of that child, so desperate, demanding his aid, which lent him the power to finally smash the Bugthings which had so long harassed him aside. Now with a clear view ahead, he located the suffering's source; a mass of blackness, Shadows, only these were different. Unlike the bugthings Lexaeus had been fighting, which were tiny but grouped together in large numbers, these creatures were bigger. Much bigger. And the sobs continued to arise from the depths of that dark.

Another Lyflian, a girl, teal-haired, maybe a year older than Lexaeus, was fighting her way towards the mass, and when he blinked, he noticed silver tear tracks running down her cheeks. Maybe the child was a relative, a brother perhaps? And he knew she'd never make it in time.

Like a wild beast he charged, without thought, at the Gigas Shadows. He was closer. He could make it.

He sliced, stabbed, slashed; the motions that had never felt more than an awkward imitation now flowed, liquid, coming more naturally than breathing to him. Zexion had always fluffed sports class at school, and fencing had been his worst. But now...

He existed to destroy.

Now, in his battle daze, Zexion caught only the occasional glimpses of the others, perhaps their numbers were waning; the Shadows were insatiable, flinging their buglike bodies forward, golden orb eyes bulging, antennae twitching wildly, with seemingly no regard for their lives. Aqua was one that he saw, dragging a kid (Ven? Or Roxas?), who looked barely conscious. He thought he saw Lexaeus at one point, before his friend, even being so large as he was, was swallowed up whole in a mass of black and glowing yellow. The first time another Lyflian crossed his path, it was almost an effort not to turn the blade on them, so caught up was he in the ceaseless violence. Just in time, he managed to twist the sword's path so that instead of slashing through her shoulder, it came down on the back of a neglected little Shadow, one that had been trying to sneak up on the girl.

"Gee, thanks," she rolled her eyes. "I thought I was a goner there." As always with Arca, it wasn't clear whether she was mocking him, or mocking the danger of such a miniscule Shadow. Still under the spell, Zexion merely shrugged, but she grabbed his hand before he could turn back to the fighting. "Zexion. We have to leave, now." Arca hesitated. "Are you coming?"

Zexion looked into her deep violet eyes. Something about them was strangely calming, so much so that even he began to breath slowly, the trance fading. But not entirely. "No. No, I don't think that I am." He didn't know exactly why he made that decision. In Zexion's rational mind, it was not a rational choice. Even under the spell as he was… Spell? Was that the right word? But yet, it was made. When it came down to it, perhaps he couldn't leave Lyflia behind, after all.

"Well, then-" she froze; her skin, translucent in the dim light, grew even paler.

"Arca?" he blinked, uncomprehending.

Her lips parted in a silent cry, she seemed to choke on thin air; he looked down, and found that the Shadow he had struck earlier had not died. The color... The creature's color was a bit off, now that he really looked at it. A slight purple... A Vene Shadow, short for venenum. Meaning poison. Now the thing bit into the exposed flesh above her ankle, and before Zexion had time to so much as blink, Arca fell to the ground, dead.

The kid was hurt, badly. That was the first thing that Lexaeus saw, and it was hard not to. The child's shirt, grubby as it no doubt had been earlier, was now soaked in his blood. He was clearly beyond saving, yet Lexaeus couldn't just give up. Ignoring the Gigases completely, he made a grab for the kid, slinging him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, then, before the giant shadows could recover, or realize what was going on; he ran, ran without stopping, until he was aboard the INFI.

No more. No more could die here. He continued to slaughter Shadows left and right, but now Zexion seemed drained of his earlier, possessive rage, instead fueled by a kind of weary despair. He also focused more on saving the humans, rather than destroying the hordes, and went out of his way to help others. No more mistakes. No more Arcas.

"Go on," he managed to get out, though by now his lungs were screaming for air, and his throat really was like sandpaper, as he encountered Riku and some girl having trouble with the Shadows which blocked their path. He gave Riku a look to say, I'll handle this. It was strange, he thought, hearing the patter of their feet as they fled, how he, Zexion, the nerd, bookworm, he so disinclined to any form of physical activity, should be the one here, defending, fighting, and Riku, the complete opposite, and in fact two years his senior, should be the one leaving.

But, he realized now, he wouldn't- couldn't have- had it any other way. Not anymore.

Something in him had changed.

It wasn't until much later that Lexaeus noticed how all trace of blood had dissolved, impossibly, from the child's clothes. His breathing was steady and regular, as was his heartbeat. The boy was alive, uninjured and safe aboard the INFI. And Lexaeus had no idea how.