Title: Mission Impossible

Author: Ladya C. Maxine

Rating: T

Summary: see chapter one

Warnings: see chapter one

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

A/N: So, I managed to tear myself away from Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days and, without spoiling anything, I must say that it is totally awesome! Would that it had been released before I started writing this fic, since it gives plenty of insight on the inner workings of the Organization, but if I had the powers to bend things to my will I'd have already attained my ideal weight, captured all those pretty Korean boy bands as my personal playthings, and figured out why the hell I still love George Clooney even after the mindfuck that was Batman & Robin. Since none of these have yet happened, it's safe to say that mine isn't a very big role in the ways of the universe.

But I digress. Kingdom Hearts 358/2 game play is fun, and being a total Organization whore I am loving every minute of being with these guys. I was expecting to loath Xion (a girl! ACK!! Step away from my Nobody hotties, bitch!!) but she turned out to be a helluva better companion than either Donald or Goofy. And you'd think this game would answer a lot of questions; it does, but also generates even more questions! GAH! Will I ever be satisfied?

I'm so addicted to KH I might just go out and buy a PSP, just so that I can play Kingdom Hearts: Birth by Sleep when it comes out next year.

And that concludes my inner monologue, and trust me, this was the sane, edited version of what was going on in my head while playing the game. (I do recall my most recurrent thought to be, "ZOMG!! SAIX!! ZOMG!! AAAAAAAAHHH!!!" or something to that effect. By the way, Saix is rather casual and chatty; more so than I ever expected him to be.)

Okay, here's the actual chapter...

PS. Oh yeah, and this chapter contains some graphic violence, though I doubt I write for a group that is easily offended by such material. In fact, I think it would take the mutilation of a baby in my stories to raise so much as a brow from my readers ... Man, you guys are awesome! Wish we could all go out for a drink and a movie sometime.

PPS. For real, here's the chapter ...


"Eeeeew! This place is so gross!"

Slapping away the transparent hands trying to grab at his coat, Roxas couldn't agree more with Demyx. The Heartless they could deal with, but weapons, including Keyblades, were useless against spirits and ghosts, which were two different things, as Axel had so thoroughly explained.

"It's like .. Look, one starts with an 'S' and the other with a 'G'. Got it memorized?"

"Ghosts are the really bad ones," Demyx had explained more accurately, gripping the Olympus Stone close to him. "They're trapped in pits but if they can they'll try and drag you down with them. Spirits are the good ones, but they're really bummed out. Being dead is pretty sad, so they walk around with long faces and sometimes they'll just hug you and cry, or they try to kidnap you to make you their friend."

Demyx had divulged all this information at the entrance of the Cave of the Dead, but the deeper they'd gone in the less talkative he'd become, speaking up only to voice fear or disgust at their increasingly desolate surroundings. Other than his voice, they made their journey in silence, releasing puffs of condensed air as their lungs worked double time to draw whatever oxygen there was in these caverns. Unfortunately, the road they were on had led them straight into a flowing stream of spirits. It would have taken too long to turn back, so they were forced to walk on, the spirits passing through their lower bodies; the majority of them too despondent to do anything but be swept along to their final resting place.

Suddenly, a green head with long black hair rose from the crawling stream, throwing her arms out towards Roxas and crying, in a wheezing voice, " ... my ... son ... save ... me ... "

Another pair of hands grabbed Roxas first, pulling him aside. The spirit stumbled and fell back into the rippling mass, howling in such despair Roxas instinctively reached out a hand in hopes of saving her.

"Keep moving," Axel said, an arm around Roxas' shoulders, their sides pressed together as he dragged Roxas along. "Sucks for her, but she's dead, end of. You can't help her."

Relying on each other for balance, they soon caught up with Demyx, who was using his sitar as a walking stick as he fought his way uphill against the unnatural current of spirits. Wading next to Roxas, Axel was looking every bit as disgusted as Roxas and Demyx, despite having been to this world more times than both of them combined. This was Roxas' first visit to the Underworld, and he was going to do everything in his powers to make sure it'd be his last.

Only the fourth and final member on their team looked at ease, mainly because he wasn't stepping on ghastly faces.

"Are you sure this is the only way? Why can't we just travel through the Corridors and directly into Hades' Chamber?" Axel called up to Xigbar, who was acting as scout and lookout from his high vantage point upside down on the cave ceiling. Axel's voice echoed loudly through the solemn passage, causing a large chunk of rock to come crashing down right behind the three of them, squishing several spirits and splattering the three of them in undead essence.

"Yuck! Ghost goo!" Demyx moaned.

"Why not just set off stick of dynamite while you're at it?" Xigbar said, crouching on the air in front of them, covering Axel's mouth with a hand. "Keep your voices down. And you know the rules: no Corridor shortcuts down here unless it's an emergency. 'Fraid of a few ghosts, Flame-boy?"

"Yeah, well, if I could float like a fairy I'd be feeling cocky too," Axel snapped back in a loud whisper, pulling away. "You could at let us walk up there with you so that we didn't have to sludge through these things down here. One of them ate the heel off my left boot!"

"Kids," Xigbar sighed, walking on, forcing them to follow him since none of them had a map and he was the only one who knew the route by heart (so to speak). "You rugrats just want everything handed to you on a plate with a free beer."

"Oh, so now you're against serving alcohol to minors?"

"Whoa!" Demyx suddenly cried when a gnarled hand grabbed his leg and began tugging him downwards. "Ack! This one is missing an eye! Groo-ooo-oooss!"

"Jeez," Xigbar sighed, reaching down to pull the struggling Nocturne up onto his level. "You're not supposed to make eye contact with them."

"Neat!" Demyx exclaimed happily. He hopped up and down a few times to test his footing. "So this is what it feels like. Roxas, check it out."

Apprehensively taking the outstretched hand, Roxas allowed himself to be pulled up, just grateful to get off the ground. Despite feeling solid nothingness beneath his feet, he stepped carefully as he tried to get used to the abnormal sensation of walking on air. Not knowing whether there was an edge or a limit to the spell, he made sure not to stray too far from the Freeshooter lest he ended up falling off.

"Axel," Demyx said, now reaching for the redhead's hand, but Xigbar stopped him.

"Sorry, Flame-boy," Xigbar grinned down at a glaring Axel. "I can't support all of you at the same time. You might tip the balance and then we'll all end up walking it to Hades."

"You bastard," Axel seethed, "I once saw you lift a Groundshaker right off the Pride Lands!"

"Yeah, one Groundshaker. I can't carry around four of us. Besides, we need someone at ground level," Xigbar said, making a shooing motion with his hand. "Go on. Keep an eye out for Heartless down there, will ya?"

"YOU SON OF A—AAAAH!"

"Be careful, Axel," Demyx warned earnestly as the redhead barely avoided being squashed by a one ton stalactite. "You really don't want to die in here: what if you don't fade away and get stuck here forever? ... Hey, but if you become a spirit we'd be able to come down here and visit you from time to time!" he realized, sounding thrilled.

Something that sounded like a sarcastic "Whoopee" floated up from where Axel was brushing himself off.

Throwing glances back every now and then to make sure his friend wasn't being dragged off to eternal damnation, Roxas peered past Xigbar as they headed deeper into the tunnel, which was beginning to glow a faint green.

"Valley of the Dead, dead ahead," Xigbar said, almost cheerfully, which raised a whole bunch of troubling questions in Roxas mind as to how his superior could still be so carefree in this literal hell.

Demyx released another haunted moan, dragging his feet as he walked.

"Why couldn't we just send him a card?" he asked, bringing up his earlier protests.

"Yeah, because that's the one thing we want to do when asking a god for help: diss him," Xigbar replied. "If you're gonna ask this big a favour from someone like him you should at least do it in person."

"It takes four people to ask one favour?" Roxas asked. "And how come Xaldin and Luxord got to stay behind in the Castle?"

"What the—! Watch where you're putting those hands!" Axel said down below as he tried to free himself from a pretty touchy-feely spirit.

"Because they're covering for us, duh," Xigbar said, ignoring Axel's plight in favour of giving Roxas a painful cuff upside the head when the blond stupidly moved into range. "This team's been carefully selected. I'm the negotiator; Demyx is the most experienced at stealing the Olympus Stone—" Demyx looked proud "—Axel's our back-up firepower; and you're ... You need the experience."

Of course, that was a lie, but with the Underworld sapping at his energy despite the presence of the Olympus Stone Roxas didn't have the strength to wrestle a straight answer out of Xigbar. As long as he wasn't about to be sacrificed to this infamous Hades he'd put up with being left in the dark, as always.

"So you've figured out how we're going to get Hades to agree to this plan?" he asked.

"Woman, I'll torch your face off if you don't let go!"

"That's no way to treat a lady, Axel. Anyway, it doesn't take a lot of brainstorming when it comes to getting on Hades' good side: just so long as it promises him benefits, and the suffering of others, Hades is always game." Catching Roxas' unconvinced glance, Xigbar put on his best run-while-you-still-can grin and slapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, you trust me, don't ya?"

"Sure," Demyx said automatically.

"I trust I don't have much choice but to trust you," Roxas said, resigned. "Nothing I say will make you change your mind."

"I taught you well." Looking ahead Xigbar's eye widened when he caught sight of the large chamber at the end of the tunnel. "About time. If we're quiet we should be able to get through there without alerting that damn mutt—"

"Hey, Cerberus is awesome," Demyx objected. "He just needs a bit of training to stop him from eating people and ripping souls to pieces."

"Fine: if we're quiet we should be able to get through there without alerting poor, misunderstood Cerberus," Xigbar said. Demyx frowned, unsure whether he was being mocked. With just a few feet to go before they reached the end of the tunnel, Xigbar's mood switched to a more serious one as he held out a hand, signalling complete silence as they peered into the cavern.

Apart from the sizeable pool of spirits swirling about, the gigantic underground dome was deserted. Directly across the pool, on the far other side, the ground rose upwards in a series of wide, uneven plateaus. The air was thick with reeking fumes, and the rocky walls was covered with what looked like dried blood and glowing green moss, but Xigbar was pleased with their findings. Demyx, on the other hand, looked disappointed.

"I guess he's taking a nap," he muttered.

"Let sleeping dogs lie," Xigbar said, giving the pouting Nocturne a push in the back to get him going. Even though they were several feet off the ground—or perhaps because of that—Roxas felt very vulnerable as they began the tense trek across the open terrain. Already twitchy, he jumped when Xigbar spoke up right next to him. "We're good. If that heck hound hasn't sensed us yet then—"

"THAT'S IT! BURN, BITCH!"

The entire cavern erupted in a bright hot flash that blew out from the tunnel they're just exited. A thundering ball of fire raced towards them with such speed it was upon them before Roxas could even consider evasive tactics. Suddenly grabbed, he was pulled down, where he found himself staring into Demyx's wide eyes as the two of them crouched, confused and helpless as the flames engulfed them. Several heavy thuds and bangs added to the chaos as loose rock began to rain down on them, smashing harmlessly against the invisible barrier above their heads.

Then, as soon as it had begun, it was over.

The flames dissipated into harmless wisps of smoke, and the Underworld's icy cold rolled over them once more.

"If it weren't for the fact that we've only recently lost one member I'd have turned you into a living pincushion by now," Xigbar growled, dispelling the Aeroga spell he'd cast in the nick of time to protect the three of them. "You know Hades gets pissy when someone other than himself causes pain and misery in this place."

Standing in the mouth of the tunnel, panting heavily, Axel looked around at the destruction his outburst had caused. His coat was twisted and he was missing a glove, but otherwise he looked very pleased with himself.

"Got her off me, though," was all he had to say for himself.

Xigbar's colourful argument was interrupted by an menacing growl coming from deep within one of the many other tunnels. Something angry was heading their way, barking a rumbling bark that sounded both excited and ferocious. The few remaining spirits that hadn't been vaporized by Axel's attack cried out and began scrambling towards any exit, dragging their mangled bodies across the ground.

Axel froze, his triumphant look waning by the second as he nervously spun his chakrams.

Demyx's eyes lit up as he eagerly looked around for their impending foe, sitar at the ready yet showing no intent of actually using it to fight.

Xigbar sighed and summoned his weapons, giving Roxas an impatient nudge to urge him to do the same.

"Ever fought a fifty ton demon dog with three heads and two hundred and fifty venom-tipped teeth before, kid?" he asked Roxas while lowering them to the ground.

" ... er ... " Roxas said, too distracted by the three pairs of glowing red eyes glaring at them from within the all-concealing darkness of the large tunnel on their right.

"No biggie. Never too late to learn," Xigbar said, taking the time to give Axel—who'd joined them in a defensive formation—a painful jab in the shoulder with one of his guns. "Most important thing to remember: don't get stepped on, and don't get eaten."

Roaring, the monstrous Cerberus finally made his appearance, his great lashing tail, all three of his heads snapping their cavernous maws rabidly as the hound prowled towards them. Dark balls of black energy floated about the beast, incinerating anything they came in contact with.

"Oh yeah. He can do serious damage without physically touching you," Xigbar added as an afterthought. "We'll take him head on, on the count of three."

Behind Xigbar's back, Roxas glared at Axel, who shrugged sheepishly.

"One ... "

"I hate you," Roxas mouthed to the redhead.

"Two ... "

"Don't hurt him too much: he's still groggy," Demyx cautioned them.

Xigbar rolled his eye, but he did banish one of his guns, and was rewarded with a grateful smile from Demyx.

"Whatever. Three!" Xigbar yelled, leaping forward with a spray of energized bullets.

Watching the gaping mouths lined with dagger-sharp teeth growing closer and closer, Roxas wondered whether Saix really was worth all this effort. If they ever got him back, he'd better be a damn lot nicer to them.


Pacing the width of the lounge while he absentmindedly shuffled his cards, Luxord started when a Corridor suddenly bloomed open before him. It was unlike his suave demeanour to be so easily startled, but after several days of plenty activity and little rest, and the overall tenseness that came when undertaking such a tentative operation in their own castle, under the Superior's very nose, Luxord felt that a little jumpiness was still a great sign of control, given their predicament. He still managed a stoic look when Xaldin stepped out of the Corridor. The Lancer didn't look to be fairing any better than Luxord as he almost stumbled in his haste to slam down a soggy report on top of the stack.

"Mission to Atlantic, clear," said Xaldin, now taking the time to wring water from his tangled braids.

"You still have your gills," Luxord pointed out, helpfully plucking the hitchhiking starfish from Xaldin's back.

Growling, Xaldin rubbed his jaw line, though it did little to speed up the process.

"What's next?" he asked, eyeing the second stack of incomplete reports with much loathing. "And why isn't that pile getting any smaller?"

"The Superior is keen to make up for lost time," Luxord said, speaking calmly despite his own frustration. "New orders keep coming in faster than we can carry them out."

"The two of us can't keep this up for much longer. If the Superior discovers that we've been carrying out these missions on our own he's going to demand an explanation." Groaning as he sat down on a couch, Xaldin grabbed the topmost file and flipped it open. "Oh goody. My next destination is Halloween Town."

Luxord, who was busy reciting the Pride Lands transformation spell to himself before he headed off on his own assignment, chuckled.

"No transformation required then."

Too tired to even summon a lance to hurl at the Gambler, Xaldin responded with an unfriendly gesture. Despite his own weariness, Luxord laughed at the unimaginative comeback and disappeared through a Corridor, leaving Xaldin behind to pick at his gills, which were finally beginning to disappear beneath his sideburns.

"Bah! Don't think Saix is worth the trouble."

Personally, he didn't miss being glared at by the Diviner, and it had always been something of a thorn in his pride to have to exercise caution around someone who was both younger and less experienced than him, out of fear of devastating bodily harm. However, Saix's psychotic nature made him ideal for Heartless extermination. For the first time ever, Xaldin found himself missing the Diviner, if only for his battle prowess. In fact, the more he thought about it, the bleaker a future without Saix around to fight their battles began to look.

"Where's the fun in this?" Xaldin sighed, leaning back into the damp cushions.

"You were never one to enjoy fun, Xaldin."

Xaldin leapt to his feet to find Xemnas himself standing in the doorway. How long had the Superior been there? Had he heard Xaldin utter that line about Saix?

"We're not here to have fun. We're here in order to survive," the Superior said, entering the lounge with languid steps, showing no signs of having heard anything previously.

"Speaking of survival, it is not wise to sneak up on a weary fighter," Xaldin said, giving a respectful nod to balance out his chastising tone.

The Superior didn't seem to take any offense, looking about as though he'd never been in here before. Xaldin couldn't recall having ever seen the Superior in here, actually. The Superior's posture was as formidable as ever, but his hair was in slight disarray and his fell eyes didn't gleam as menacingly as Xaldin was used. He looked ... hollow? If losing a heart reduced someone to a Nobody, what else could one possibly have to lose to become something even less?

"Is everything alright, sir?" Xaldin asked.

"Apparently so," the Superior said, shifting through the haphazard stacks of reports on the table. "Seeing as how you have time to rest, I assume we're on schedule."

Xaldin couldn't detect any suspicion in the voice, but just in case the Superior was indeed checking in on them ...

"I am merely recuperating, having destroyed the colony of Heartless in the grottos of Atlantica, and Luxord has just left for the Pride Lands. The others have yet to return from their missions," Xaldin said, boldly blurring the line between truth and lies. "I assume you too have made significant progress, which has allowed you time away from your office. The Organization is doing well indeed, Xemnas."

If the Superior could tell that Xaldin had purposefully steered the conversation away from the others he didn't show it. Xaldin hadn't actually seen their leader since the day he'd banished them to that damned Hundred Acre Woods, but, now facing the Superior, it was as though he hadn't seen the other in years. Something was off about him, though Xaldin would need more time to determine what. It was Xigbar, not he, who could read their old friend's unreadable nature.

"Focus is key to such operations, Xaldin," the Superior suddenly said, despite not being prompted. Taking a seat in a solitary armchair facing the windows to stare out at the great heart-shaped moon, he began talking in a distant voice. "We must keep our eyes on Kingdom Heart, and its completion, and nowhere else. Nothing else matters. How can it, when we have no hearts to care? Even in its incomplete stage, Kingdom Hearts inspires us to want, to care ... for Kingdom Hearts and Kingdom Hearts alone. How long has it been since we lost our hearts? It matters not. We have covered more ground in the past few days than we have in many months. Yes, the Organization is doing better than ever. We, who have been living blindly in the darkness for so long, will soon capture the power of the brightest light. Yes, we are focussed, now more than ever. We have done away with any distractions; ridded ourselves of all inconveniences, and will focus on Kingdom Hearts' completion ... "

'Focussed' was the last thing the Superior was being right now. Not that it was unusual for him to go on and on like this—'conciseness' was the only word that was not a part of their leader's extensive vocabulary—but it wasn't like the Superior to speak so absentmindedly. There was a difference between loving the sound of one's own voice, and rambling without even hearing oneself.

" ... Do you need anything, sir?" Xaldin asked after a couple of more minutes of this mindless monologue, which snapped the other out of it.

"No," the Superior said, rising from the armchair. "When will you be leaving for your next mission?"

When Luxord returned from his, but that honest answer would raise questions.

"When the spell wears off completely," he said, thinking quickly. He touched his gills. "I need the rest, anyway. I should be heading out in about an hour's time."

"Then I will meet you at Nothing's Call."

"Sir?"

"I will be joining you on this expedition," the Superior said. Turning away from Kingdom Hearts, he smirked at Xaldin's puzzlement. "Not to evaluate you, of course. Of all the members, you're the most competent when it comes to solo missions of any kind. No, it has been days since I last left this world. As informative as your gathered reports are, I need to see and experience the changes in other worlds myself. Do you object to my company?"

"Of course not." Though he had now backed himself into a corner, and thrown his and Luxord's efforts in a loop.

"Good. One hour." Turning in the tall doorway, the Superior asked, "What is our destination?"

"Er, Halloween Town," Xaldin said. "There's been a significant increase in Heartless activities. Two villages have already been overrun, and word has it that the town itself has heightened its security. My mission is—"

"To discover the source of the Heartless' unrest," the Superior finished. "In their agitated state, they are becoming a nuisance to us all. Yes, this is an interesting case."

"Any theories as to what we might find?"

"Nothing that cannot be dealt with swiftly and effectively. Anything that gets in the way of our goals must be destroyed." Again, the orange eyes swept over the room, searching for something. "Distractions will not be tolerated."

And then he left, departing as silently as he'd arrived, leaving Xaldin wondering what had just happened, and how he'd managed to get himself saddled with the Superior as a travel companion.

Also, he didn't know whether the Superior had been aware of it, but of all the seats he could have chosen to sit in earlier, the Superior had picked Saix's favourite armchair.

"Unreadable and insufferable as always, Xehanort," Xaldin said with an incredulous scoff.


"Not hungry?"

Saix ignored the other in favour of focussing on his clenched fist. Concentrating his energy, he counted to ten before opening his hand to find a hovering ball of red fire, but the flames were weak. It was completely unacceptable for a Firaga spell. Dispelling the fire with a shake of his hand, he tried again, this time attempting a Thundaga attack. Crackling electricity danced across his palm, only to vanish against his will. He was more successful in conjuring up a decent Blizagga, freezing the row of trees before him so thoroughly they cracked and shattered in to glittering heaps of ice.

Dissatisfied, Saix looked up to the bright yellow moon shining down through the leafless branches, washing over him where he sat poised on a moss-covered boulder.

'At the very least, your powers over me have not waned,' he thought, rubbing the frost from his hands. 'Though whether I am still worthy to be your worshipper ... '

A loud splash drew his eyes down to where the werewolf was wading about in the stream. Located several miles outside of town, this was the only body of water that was home to aquatic creatures of the living, none-poisonous variety. Garmjaw had already amassed a writhing pile of eels he had dug out of the mud, though with his enormous appetite the beast required at least twice as much provisions to last him through the day.

"I can catch enough for us both, Isa," Garmjaw said, climbing out of the water with another armful of shrieking eels. "Don't hold back for my sake."

"I owe you no favours of any kind," Saix answered bluntly, returning to his spell-casting.

"I told you, there's no need to keep watch. This area is safe."

It was to Saix's chagrin that he had to take the other's word for it, since he himself could no longer ascertain that claim with complete confidence. Like his magic, his senses were failing him. He could no longer discern every sound that reached his ears, nor could he pick up a scent that was more than ten miles away. Barely able to summon the wide array of spells he'd once had at his disposal, he couldn't even rely on his rage, whose inner voice he had not heard utter so much as a growl in days. Though he had made no attempt to leave this world, the Corridors he had opened to test himself had been unstable; one of them had even collapsed spectacularly. Worst of all, summoning his claymore had become more and more difficult every time they'd encountered Heartless, which had happened often since meeting Garmjaw.

Staring into his palm, Saix didn't quite know what to make of this development. His powers, especially his Nobody powers, were deteriorating by the day. Would he be left completely defenceless in the end, or will this deterioration then move on to his mind and body, until nothing remained of him ... ?

'Is this it?' he wondered, clenching and unclenching his fist, generating but a few wisps of smoke. 'Superior, is this your doing? Have you stripped me of the very gifts you gave me? You will have me degenerate back into the worthless, mindless beast I used to be before you found me? If this is your will; if this is my punishment for betraying you ... then I accept it.'

He didn't move when Garmjaw hopped up onto the boulder to crouch next to him, depositing his catch between them. While he did not appreciate having to share personal space with another he had grown used to the beast's at times intruding presence.

"You haven't eaten all week," Garmjaw said.

"You have eaten enough for the both of us," Saix said, refusing to take the wriggling eel when it was held out to him.

Growling, Garmjaw tossed the eel back onto the pile and dropped down onto all fours. Already knowing what was to come, Saix cast a weak Aero spell as Garmjaw proceeded to shake himself dry, starting from his head and continuing all the way down his long body, ending with the flick of his tail. Still damp, the werewolf settled down to eat.

"That is your method then, is it?" he asked between mouthfuls, pigheadedly continuing the conversation. "You will starve yourself to death to escape this fate?"

Saix made a dismissive sound, his indignant expression hidden beneath his hood.

"Do you accuse me of entertaining the despicable idea of suicide? To take one's own life is the greatest form of weakness."

"Do not think me either simpleminded or blind," Garmjaw snapped, his muzzle wrinkling. Sitting upright, he pushed back Saix's hood. "Don't think I haven't notice that it is becoming harder for you to see as far as you used to; to smell as accurate as you used to; to hear as sharp as you used to. When we first met you drew your weapon as easily as one draws breath, yet it took you several attempts to summon it two moons ago. You are growing weaker, Isa, and that is something you cannot hide from a werewolf. If death is not your wish, then you must work harder to survive because you can no longer depend on that which has kept you alive until now."

Resisting the urge to pull his hood back up—thinking that doing so would convey shame or weakness—Saix hissed and looked away, giving the other a fair warning that, having accurately identified the source of his discontent, the safest route would be to now drop the subject altogether.

Garmjaw, however, was either too slow on the uptake, or too brave to back down.

"I mean not that you are weak. We can easily manage, if we stay together. Now more than ever, the Shadows—or Heartless, as you insist on calling them, are everywhere, but not any more powerful than before. Should we have the misfortune of encountering truly powerful creatures I should be able to deal with them, don't worry."

"Do not dare to imply that I need your protection," Saix said stiffly. He would have emphasized that with a blast of fire, but he had to reserve what little magic he had left in him. "Have you ever defeated a Behemoth with your bare claws?"

"A what?"

"No? Then you have a poor sense of what constitutes 'powerful creatures'. It would be wise of you to not speak to lightly of another's business."

Garmjaw's fur bristled, but he restrained himself, taking his frustrations out on the eel he was holding by biting its head off.

"I would respect the gravity of your business more if you were to tell me more about yourself," he said, spitting out the eyes and swallowing the rest.

"No."

He expected the werewolf to give up at some point; to grow sick and tired of their tense exchanges and Saix's cold attitude, but Garmjaw either had the patience of a mountain, or he was desperately holding on to any company he could get. It was a strained alliance, and Saix himself was unsure as to why he'd agreed to it in the first place. The most likely reason would be that he simply no longer cared. If this creature desired to form some twisted sort of kinship with him, he wouldn't actively resist, though he wouldn't encourage it either. Eventually, one of them would grow bored and leave.

"Is there anything you are willing to discuss?" Garmjaw asked, having already wolfed down two-thirds of the food.

"You never eat in human form," Saix said, though this was neither a recent realization, nor a point of great interest to him.

Slurping up several eels at once, crunching and grinding the mouthful into mulch with just three bites, Garmjaw licked his bloody snout and grunted.

"My table manners offend you?"

"I have seen worse." Like II challenging VIII to a eating contest, which had somehow made an even bigger mess of the kitchen than IX's attempts at cookery. Catching himself thinking of his former comrades, Saix finally turned his full attention on Garmjaw, who had already morphed into his less beastly appearance.

"Better?" Garmjaw asked, brushing back his short hair and stretching his tattooed upper body, causing his joints to pop. Grabbing his heavy brown cloak—which he hardly ever travelled without—he slung it over his shoulders. "I sometimes switch shapes without realizing it. I will be more considerate of your preference from now on."

Saix narrowed his eyes at what sounded a whole lot like a teasing tone in the beast's voice, though the source of Garmjaw's amusement eluded him. Pointedly refusing to take the bait, he busied himself with pulling on his gloves.

"It was an observation, not a thinly veiled request," he said.

"I wonder what your wolf-form looked like," Garmjaw said, munching contemplatively on a vertebrae as he studied Saix, something he often did. "Your hair is darker than mine, yet I imagine your fur to have been much lighter. You would have been slightly smaller than me, but given your ferocity in battle you must have been a true fighter; possibly the best of your pack. Have you considered tracking down your old pack mates? No, not those who stripped you of your fur and turned you into a 'Nobody'," he said, intercepting Saix's rebuttal. "I mean your true pack mates. Your fellow wolves, from whom you were taken so long ago. Lineage never dies out among our kind: you most definitely still have some relations roaming this world, unaware that you are now free to return to them."

"If I had been missed, it has been too long since I left, so there would be little celebration upon my return," Saix said, flipping his hair over his shoulder when the wind picked up. "I need no relations. Kinship is not my forte."

Garmjaw was about to argue, again, but the beast suddenly froze, back straight and nose held high as he inhaled deeply. With little theatrics, he transformed once more, growling as he assumed his monstrous wolf body.

"Then we will just have to settle with being comrades in arms," he said, ears perked and twitching erratically. "Your former prey are coming, in large numbers."

Leaping down after the werewolf, Saix hid his alarm well as he belatedly increased his scanning capacity to encompass a wider area of woods. Very faintly could he pick up on the presence of Heartless. He clenched his hand several times, impatiently summoning his claymore, and when that failed he had to abandon scanning to concentrate entirely on acquiring his weapon.

It didn't take long before he could hear the hordes of Heartless nearing. From their moans, howls and screeches he knew they were Wight Nights, Search Ghosts and Gargoyles. They sounded ravenous, and were not simply passing by: this group had detected them, and were coming right at them with a purpose.

"Forget the blade!" Garmjaw snapped, crouched and ready to pounce at anything that came through the trees. "Tooth and claw are all we need! Come, Isa, show me how to do away with 'powerful creatures' with your bare hands!"

Saix tried again, and then once more, but his hand remained empty. The shadowy woods around them were dotted with glowing eyes. There was no time left to waste. Giving up, Saix ripped off his gloves, but the rage wasn't there. When armed with his claymore he could fight well enough relying on inner rage, but against such an onslaught of enemies, unarmed save for his claws, he'd need the berserker power if he were to secure a definite victory with the least amount of damage to his person.

'All my misery ... All that I've lost, I lost to the darkness,' he reminded himself, purposefully bringing up painful memories. 'It is my enemy ... It destroyed everything I possibly loved ... It stole my heart and soul, and left my body to rot into nothingness ... '

A Gargoyle, feeling bold because of its advantage of flight, broke away from the mass and dove down towards them, its powerful beak wide and its talons reaching. Saix locked eyes with it, and realized that he was its intended kill, despite Garmjaw being the one with the heart. Unaware of this unusual development, Garmjaw jumped out in front Saix and intercepted the Gargoyle, clamping down on its long neck with a powerful bite that caused the Heartless to veer to the left, where it crashed to the ground before engaging the formidable werewolf in a fang to beak battle.

' ... These creatures thrive in the darkness I loathe ... ' Saix went on, bracing himself as more and more Heartless broke away from the shadows. A burn was beginning to stir in his chest. It was not the rage he was familiar with, but it was something.

'I lost everything to the darkness... '

None of the Heartless paid Garmjaw any mind. All eyes were locked hungrily on Saix. A Wight Night lunged at him, spinning its clawed hands in wide arches directed at Saix's midriff. Digging his heels into the ashy ground, Saix snarled as his vision sharpened and his eyes glowed.

'I became nothing ... '

The Wight Night shrieked as he caught it by the head and smashed its skull against the boulder. Tossing aside the disintegrating corpse, Saix was only aware of his next opponent, despite being surrounded on all sides and completely cut off from Garmjaw.

' ... The darkness destroyed me ... '

The Gargoyle's wing came off in his hand, rendering the creature flightless before he twisted its neck until the bones snapped and the flesh tore. Roaring, he moved on to his next target, no longer hearing anything but his own voice in his mind.

' ... But from that same darkness, came the one ray of light ...The darkness dared me to hope ... It offered me one chance ... '

Another Gargoyle. It fared no better than the first, even dying a lot quicker. A third came forth, and was dispatched just as swiftly, its lifeless body used to eliminate numbers four and five with one vicious swing.

' ... Because of the darkness, I was recruited into the Organization ... Because of the darkness, I met the Superior ... '

Jumping over the pile of mangled Wight Nights, he caught a Search Ghost before it could fade away to safety. Its neck cracked in his fist, causing its other eyeball to pop out as it drifted motionlessly to the ground before vanishing.

' ... I had hoped ... had strived to live ... I had found a purpose, an identity, a meaning ... I had found my master, who would guide me through the darkness, to my heart ... '

The rage was intense. This was no longer about harnessing and using its power: this was about unleashing it, again and again.

' ... I lost my heart ... I've lost my Superior ... Now, truly, I have lost everything ... everything ... to nothing ... to the darkness ... '

Heartless, all around him. He wanted them all dead. He wanted them all crushed, tortured and slaughter. He wanted to hear their screams, to sense their fear. He had the drive. He had the rage. So many ... yet not enough. He'd kill them all. Every last one of them would fall to him, and the darkness would woe the day it so foolishly toyed with his heart, mind and soul.

' ... to lose everything to nothingness ... to lose the Superior ... '

They were running; retreating; fleeing. Saix followed, slowly, watching the chaotic scene without hearing a sound.

" ... there is no hope ... " he said, grabbing a Gargoyle by the tail and ripping out its entire spine.

He would not let them escape. If he could not escape his fate, then neither could they. For them to even attempt something so foolish was an insult.

"ALL SHALL BE LOST TO YOU!"

The world turned a blinding white, but his senses, sharper than they'd ever been, guided him. He could feel the struggling bodies in his grasp. Every rip, snap, jerk and splinter of flesh and bones echoed in his ears. Nothing but shrieks and screams, blending together so beautifully in a cacophony of terror and agony.

On and on ... it was never enough ... there had to be more ... Where were they? ... He was ready to fight! ... Dare they hide from him, like cowards? He'd hunt them down, ever last one of them! He would—!

"Isa!"

Slammed to the ground, his blood-thirsty thoughts derailed, Saix panted heavily, suddenly feeling weaker than he'd ever felt before. A drop of blood landed on his cold nose. It had come from the gash above Garmjaw's brow as the beast leaned over him, looking as surprised as his wolfish features would allowed him. Shaking his head in disbelief, Garmjaw released him but remained next to him, hands held up in a placating manner.

"Stay calm," he said gravely as Saix slowly pushed himself upright. Despite his own advice, Garmjaw looked rattled by what he was seeing. He held out a hand as though to touch Saix's face, but withdrew. "Keep your thoughts calm and your rage in check."

Confused as to what the other was going on about, Saix suddenly realized that something was wrong. His hands ... his feet ... fur and claws ...

" ... no ... " he growled, finding it very difficult to articulate: his vocal cords felt as though gravel had been poured over them, and his lips seemed to have lost their flexibility. " ... wot ... what ... "

Pushing away the hands that tried to stop him, he stumbled to the pool. His heavy tail helped his balance, but he found that walking on all fours was much quicker. With Garmjaw following at a distance, he reached the water's edge and peered in.

He recognized his eyes, but the face that stared back at him from the water's still surface wasn't his. His scar was gone, buried beneath thick fur. Diamond studs still graced his ears, though, and the fur down his neck was as long as his hair had been.

He was staring at a monster. The monster he'd finally become.

" ... no ... no ... NO!" he roared, backing away in revulsion.

"Stay calm," Garmjaw ordered, never letting more than a couple of feet stretch between them. "The more worked up you get, the longer you'll remain like this. Transformation can be controlled, used whenever one pleases, but until you have mastered this ability it are you emotions that manipulate this ability."

Emotions ... He couldn't have emotions. He was a Nobody. His very being was one of none-being ... That couldn't have changed ... could it? But if he lacked the capacity to feel, then where was this harrowing sensation of fear and helplessness coming from? If he could 'feel' those, what did that make him now ... ? What had he become ... ?

"Enough, Isa." Clawed hands pierced his shoulders and gave them a firm shake, causing Saix's head to snap back violently, effectively drawing his attention away from his spiralling thoughts and onto Garmjaw's eyes. "I can help you, but first you must learn to control yourself."

" ... ca ... can't ... how ... don't know ... "

"Your emotions control your transformation in its early stages. To revert to your other form you must thus clear your mind and ease your body."

He couldn't calm down. His breathing grew more shallow. This new body, these new thoughts, these unbearable new feelings that had no place in his hollow chest ...

Smooth hands grabbed his face, forcing him to look up. Garmjaw had transformed to his human form. His more expressive facial features revealed his concern, but also his determination.

"Is this what you want, to stay trapped in a cycle of confusion and despair? Listen to me, Isa! If you cannot trust yourself to solve this, then trust me. Trust me when I say that, whatever happened, this is not the end of you. Do not give in to it, and I promise you will regain your control."

Saix looked the other in the eyes, yet it was a different voice he heard. One from long ago, who had made a similar promise ...

"Calm yourself ... I will help you ... Obey me, and I will give you control ... Join me, and I will give you your heart ... Trust me, and I will make you complete once more ... "

' ... Superior ... '

Though it was Garmjaw's, not the Superior's face before him when he opened his eyes, Saix exhaled, his muscles loosening.

"Good," Garmjaw encouraged, lowering himself onto his stomach as well when Saix sank to the ground. "It will come to you on its own. It won't be pleasant, but you're already halfway there. You will get used to the effects of reversal soon enough. In such early stages of development, it can take up to ten minutes to completely transform. With some practice, you should be able to shift into either shapes instantaneously. Take your time."

Listening only to the other's voice, Saix flinched when his bones began to grind against each other as his tail retracted and his limbs shortened. His gums itched as his great teeth shrunk. He sneezed several times as the itch spread into his nasal cavity while his long snout disappeared. His skin absorbed the blue fur, causing such uncomfortable sensation it made him nauseous. Reeling, disoriented, he lost track of time and progress, wanting only for it all to stop.

It wasn't until something heavy was draped over his bare shoulder that he realized it was finally over. He held up his hands, and the sight of their smooth, pale texture worked well to settle his stomach. He was ... himself again. Gripping the loaned cloak tightly, he hesitated to thank the one who had helped him through the ordeal.

"Shamed, are you?" Garmjaw asked, taking no offense to the lack of gratitude. "Don't be. You will master this soon enough. Everyone suffers during their first transformation. I was traumatized my first time, my father told me, very much amused at the memory. Apparently, I cried in my mother's claws for days on end afterwards—Careful!"

Swaying on his feet, Saix shrugged off the hands that tried to steady him. His limbs and spine still ached, especially his joints. It felt as though he'd been stretched and tortured on a rack for hours.

"It all takes some getting used to. Your body will adjust in time," Garmjaw reassured.

"How did this happen?" Saix asked, though his voice was still too raw to convey his accusatory threat; it sounded exhausted and broken. "Never before ... how ... why now?"

"By no powers of mine, if that is what you are implying. The only way to pass on the mark of the werewolf is either through biting, and we both would have remembered if I'd bitten you at some point during our brief acquaintance, or hereditary. Keep the cloak for now: you need it more than I do."

"My clothes; my coat ... "

"Destroyed, I reckon. It was not designed to withstand and adjust to transformation." Garmjaw did look around, but the clothing article was nowhere in sight. "But perhaps it is a sign? You were unable to summon your weapon at all this time, nor could you cast any spells, and you transformed ... It would seem, Isa, that you have finally been released by your former captors' power, though I am unsure whether you will celebrate the fact, given how oddly dedicated you are to the ones who had suppressed your true nature."

Saix felt compelled to defend the Organization, yet when given the chance he said nothing. He no longer knew where his allegiance should lie. Out of habit, he still felt bound to the Organization, but his behaviour towards the Superior had been nothing short of traitorous, and his was a crime that had apparently been punished through exile. His powers had failed him, yet at least some form of emotions had returned to him. In one form he was a Nobody, and in the other a werewolf. Which side was he on? Or rather, which side was he meant to be on?

His stomach cared for neither: it growled, loudly.

"Behold, you now know the cause behind my insatiable appetite," Garmjaw said. Taking Saix by the elbow, he led him away from the pool, towards in the direction of the town. "Transformation consumes a great deal of energy. A Nobody may be blessed with the capacity to go days, if not weeks, without eating, but a werewolf will starve to death within three days; five, if he doesn't transform during that timeframe. My personal taste favours wild meat, but until you have developed an identical appreciation we can buy your meals from the locals willing to do business with a pair of rogues like ourselves. Mine is a very small fortune, but it would be money well spent if it means keeping you alive ... What?"

Refusing to take another step, Saix stared at his companion.

"I owe you my thanks," he said first, weighing his words carefully, "and yet your efforts fail to make sense. You owe me nothing, so why do you continue to help me? What is it you truly expect in return?"

"It worries me that you react to kindness with suspicion. Are you not familiar with the concept of friends helping friends? Yes, I too do it for my own personal gain: I do not want to be alone again, hence why I will not leave you to your own fate. But my motives aren't completely selfish. I cannot, and will not, keep you here against your will, but until you can at least survive on your own I cannot leave you on your own. I am not heartless."

'But I am,' Saix thought, still unable to gauge the other's motives.

The grey trees thinned out as the road widened. Following the curve of the Graveyard's creaking fence, the two of them said nothing for a long time, though there was no awkwardness in their silence. Garmjaw, his mind as occupied as Saix's, roused himself from his reverie as a flight of ghost howled by overhead.

"Why did they only go after you?"

"I am not sure," Saix confessed, needing no context to know what Garmjaw was talking about. "I do not possess what the Heartless crave. It should have been you they were after."

"Has your kind been fighting them for long? An ancient feud between Heartless and Nobodies? Perhaps, having detected your loss of power, they were driven to eliminate an old enemy." Garmjaw looked down to where a rotund black cat was rubbing its head against his leg. Gently nudging the foul thing away, he allowed it to trail after them as they reached the dilapidated homes situated on the town's outer edge. "I could not help but notice, though, that there has been a sudden increase in these Heartless. I cannot recall having encountered so many in so brief a time. In fact ... the swell in their numbers seem to coincide with your appearance ... "

"Are you suggesting that I am behind this?" Saix hissed, adjusting the cloak against the wind.

"Given the ferocity with which you fight them, I doubt there is any allegiance between you and them. Still, if you did not bring them here, then it can be surmised that they've followed you, or, at the very least, are drawn to you. Those things have you marked, Isa."

"Do not think the thought hasn't crossed my mind."

The house they were passing suddenly began to shake, causing one of its few remaining shutters to fall off into the street, crashing and splintering at their feet. The front door slammed open and a massive ogress poked out her head, her shoulders too wide to allow the rest of her to step foot outside her own house. Squinting down at Saix and Garmjaw with her beady eyes, she adjusted her stained glasses with an alarmed gasp, causing the folds of chins to wobble unattractively.

"Brickabrack, what did I tell you about prowling with strangers?!" she shrieked in a high voice that did not suit her large size.

The cat, which Said had almost forgotten, yowled and trotted up the creaking steps, morphing as it did so until a fat child with a head full of real pigtails stood at the top of the steps before her equally grotesque mother.

"Mummy, werewolves!" she squealed, pointing down at them with a flabby arm.

"Pack-less werewolves, precious. You will sully our good name if you're seen in their company," said the mother. She managed to squeeze a gigantic hand through the doorframe and grabbed her daughter in her fist. Pulling her child inside, she glared at the two males. "Off with you both! Traipsing about like this, flouting your exile for everyone to see! Disgraceful! I'm going to write the Mayor about this, just you wait and see! I might even take this up with the Pumpkin King himself! Scandalous! Slanderous!"

The door slammed shut again. The entire house swayed from side to side as the ogress' heavy footsteps disappeared deeper into the dwelling. Another shutter fell off, landing in the bone-strewn, weed-infested garden.

"If I had a crooked penny for every threat I've ever received I'd be able to afford eating out in the finest restaurant for the rest of my life," Garmjaw said, dismissing the ogress' words with a chuckle. "The Mayor is two-faced, but spineless, and the Pumpkin King has bigger things to worry about: Halloween is only 345 days away."

"He plans ahead," Saix said dryly.

Being a natural citizen of this nightmarish world, Garmjaw could not openly mock his fellow Halloweeners' obsession with the holiday, but he still smirked at Saix's comment.

"Now then, what will be your delight this fine evening?" he asked as Guillotine Plaza came into view at the end of the flaming-skull-lit street. "I personally recommend the darkling duck sold by the hag over on Hangman's Way. She is one of the few who specializes in werewolf cuisine, and will serve anyone as long as they have both the money and a ready supply of compliments to offer her. The duck is filling and, if she's in an agreeable mood, the hag will even season it with some enchantment that will ease your sore joints and muscles. And she might know a disreputable tailor who would be willing to fashion us more respectable wear. My old tailor was eaten by goblins during a disagreement over a card game, you see."

"Respectable wear? Do not all werewolves dress like you?" Saix asked, looking at the tattered pants the other wore.

"Certainly not. I must admit, I have let myself go, in terms of appearance. I had no need to look civilized when it was just me, but I admit to feeling more self-conscious now that it is the two of us. I suppose I must make an effort to look my best, if not to shame you in public."

" ... How gallant."

Laughing, Garmjaw grabbed his hand and pulled him along, a sudden spring in his step as he began listing even more delicacies they could pick up along the way. Saix stared at their joint hands, though his fingers did not grip Garmjaw's. He looked over at his companion, who suddenly seemed younger, more lively, than before. Picking up on Saix's staring, Garmjaw met his eyes, still smiling. He stopped walking and held up their hands, palm to palm.

"After what happened in the woods tonight, I am more convinced than ever that it was meant to be. Our meeting in the Graveyard couldn't have been incidental. We were both alone, in need of support, and now we've found it in each other. I am truly glad I met you, Isa."

Not one who was familiar with confessions of such nature, Saix nodded uncertainly, then cleared his throat and looked away. Was this a werewolf-thing? If so then he had much to learn and adjust to.

"Your assistance has been invaluable to me as well," he said. "I am ... fortunate to have met your acquaintance."

"Knowing you, I'll take that as flattery."

Growling, Saix pulled his hand away, which only made Garmjaw laugh again. They crossed the narrow bridge together, walking close enough to occasionally brush shoulders, ignoring the angry mutters of the troll whose sleep had been disrupted by their footsteps. A few minutes later, as he and Garmjaw parted to allow a headless horseman to ride through, chasing the bats that had stolen his pumpkin, Saix realized that he could get used to this twisted world. In fact, as the sights, sounds and smells lost their appalling effect on him, it felt like this was where he might truly belong, with the rest of the monsters.

Somehow, that did not sound as offensive anymore.

'Perhaps I am now finally ready to move on ... '


When Roxas thought 'Lord of the Dead', the first thing that didn't come to mind was 'car salesman', yet Hades' manner speaking was a dead ringer—no pun intended—to that of a retailer Roxas had once observed trying to sell off a used pile of junk on wheels to a naive man in Twilight Town. Not that Roxas was a renowned scholar when it came to mythology, but he would have sworn that someone with the title of Lord of the Dead would be a lot less ... lively.

Yes, Hades looked every bit the part of a ruler of the Underworld. With his terrifying teeth, black robes and flaming hair, he embodied every aspect of death and doom. Sitting on his dark throne, strumming his pointy fingers on one armrest while his other hand propped up his angular head, he exuded an air of otherworldly arrogance and authority that the Superior would kill to possess.

And yet ...

"Okay, okay, okay. Lemme get this straight," Hades said impatiently, waving a hand to interrupt Xigbar, which was further proof of his powers: anyone else would have had their hand shot off for interrupting the Freeshooter. Speaking in that rapid-fire tone, he went on, "You want me, Hades, God of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead, to help you, a bunch of nobodies, to get your nobody leader and another nobody back together, so that you can all continuing doing ... whatever it is nobodies do to keep yourself entertained. And you want me to do this by bringing back to life a bunch of people that aren't even under my jurisdiction. Hmmmm. Lemme see ... " He stroked his long chin with a deeply pensive thought. "Er ... No."

"Wow. What a meanie," Demyx said softly for only Roxas and Axel to hear as they stood in the background, trying to keep as far away from Hades as possible.

"'Scuse me?"

The three of them jumped when Hades's towering form suddenly materialized before them in a puff of noxious smoke. Cupping an ear as he leaned down towards Demyx, his conversational voice contradicted the red tinge of the flame on his head.

"Yeah, probably got a chunk of brimstone stuck in my ear again. Didn't quite catch that. Got something you want to share with the rest of the class, sunshine? Come on, speak up. Old Hades hasn't been topside for a while, you know. Need to keep up with all the 'hip' lingo you young people keep inventing just to annoy the rest of us. Just a couple of days ago I was walking along the Styx—you know, gotta keep in shape—when I met the cutest little lost spirit you've ever seen. Must have been, oh, fifteen, sixteen when she bit the mortal dust. I don't like kids, so I was gonna just leave her there, but then she started talking. Ugh!" His disgust was emphasized with a violent flare of fire that spread from his head, down his neck and along his arms. "She. Just. Wouldn't. Shut. Up. I think she was speaking English, but oh my god, I, like, had totally no idea what she was yapping about. So I threw her to a bunch of hungry demons. Ripped her apart in no time. Man, was it blissfully quiet afterwards ... Now, what's the moral of today's story? Kids should be seen, not heard. Why don't you three go outside and fall into a bottomless pit while us adults discuss things, eh?"

All of that said without a single pause for breath. Maybe the Lord of the Dead didn't breathe. He did pant, though, baring his sharp teeth as he continued to leer at Demyx, who, much to Roxas' admiration, hadn't died of fright ... yet.

"Yeeeaaah. You can't hold Demyx accountable for his own words," Xigbar said, performing a teleporting trick of his own to come between Demyx and the volatile god. "He doesn't think before he speaks. We're not sure he ever thinks, period."

"H-Hey!" Demyx sputtered, but the combined glare of both Hades and Xigbar caused him to retreat behind Axel, where there wasn't much room since Roxas had already taken cover there.

"To his credit," Xigbar said, leading Hades away from the trio, "Demyx really likes Cerberus: he only joined in the fight when I threatened him with a year's worth of cleaning duties if he didn't."

"Yeah, thanks for that, by the way," Hades sneered. "Now I'm without a guard dog for at least a week while Cerberus heals."

"In our defence, shouldn't Cerberus only attack those trying to leave the Underworld, not enter it?"

"Look, I didn't read the fine print when I got the mutt, okay? Met a dodgy dealer in a cloak, and I might have been a teensy-weensy bit drunk, and there was betting involved and the next thing I know I wake up and find myself the proud owner of a three-headed demon dog who hasn't been housebroken yet. Life sucks, but the Afterlife blows. Whatcha gonna do about it? Well, it was nice talking to you ... whatever the heck you are, but I'm a busy man, as you can see. The dead don't condemn themselves, ya know. Busy, busy, busy. My henchmen will show you to the door. Oy, I need a vacation. Pain! Panic! Geez, what's taking them so long? You'd think they'd figure out a way to re-grown torn limbs faster. Memo to me: kill them, get better minions. HEY, MAGGOTS!!"

Life under the Superior's regime was looking a whole lot more appealing right about now, Roxas thought. Maybe they were been too nitpicky about certain facets ... While his appreciation for their usually-non-violent, none-fire-hazardous leader grew, in stumbled two diminutive demons who looked about as right for the roles of Hades' henchmen as Xaldin would as a babysitter.

"Pain!" winced the fat red one.

"Panic!" wheeze the skinny blue one.

"Reporting for duty!" they both exclaimed, then collapsed as their wobbly legs, which were still healing, gave out from under them.

"Little advice to take back to your leader, from one tyrant to another: don't hire the first person who answers your ads in the paper," Hades said to Xigbar. He kicked one of the minions, but it didn't move. "These things should come with some sort of guarantee, or a free replacement. Great, now I'm down one possessed guard dog and two servants. Do I have to do everything around here? All I need now is for the entire Underworld to turn into a Heartless playground and those three old fate farts to show up with their floating eyeball and predict, yet again, that I am going to be defeated by Wonder Boy, and then my prissy perfect day will just end on an orgasmic high note!"

By now the ominously dark throne room had become a whirling vortex of flames. Roxas, Axel and Demyx had to combine their powers in order to produce an Aeroga spell strong enough to withstand the god's burning wrath. Blinking through the sweat dripping from his brow, Roxas looked around for their senior member, only to discover that Xigbar was the calmest one in the room. He just stood there, untouched by the flames, his arms crossed and his lips curved in a conniving grin. As far as the Freeshooter was concerned, this one was in the bag ... Xigbar's mind worked in many mysterious ways.

Sweeping his hand through his fiery mane, Hades took several deep breaths and rolled his shoulders.

"I'm cool, I'm cool ... Eh, you still here? Whadya want, an official notice with my signature on it? Beat it before I get really mad."

"Wouldn't be so agitated if you weren't so stressed, right?" Xigbar asked, setting his plan in motion and causing much worry amongst the other three as they feared for his life and theirs. Slinging an arm around Hades' elbows—unable to reach the god's shoulders because of their heights—Xigbar steered the glowering lord away from the younger members. "Look, we all got problems, and I couldn't help noticing during your little, er, monologue that we might just be able to help each other. Not being all-powerful gods like yourself, we can't help you fight fate, but we might be able to do something about this Heartless infestation you mentioned earlier. It's not much, what I'm offering, but wouldn't it be nice to be able to focus on dealing with this 'Wonder Boy' without being distracted by those damn Heartless all the time?"

Hades still didn't look convinced, but at least his hair remained a nice, safe blue. Sensing that he was getting somewhere, Xigbar added the finishing touch to his manipulation.

"Wonder Boy ... You wouldn't happen to be talking about Hercules, would you?"

Hades' nostrils flared and Xigbar quickly stepped away as a flash of red fire erupted from the god's head. Demyx jumped, but was held back by Axel.

"I'm a little confused, however," Xigbar said, taking the reaction as a confirmation. "See, we got wind a while back about a league of powerful beings—yourself included—who were cut down by someone who was not Hercules."

Axel suddenly tensed.

Demyx stole an anxious glance at Roxas.

Roxas blinked, confused.

Hades snarled.

Xigbar smiled sympathetically.

"Wouldn't want that kid showing up again, would you? Apparently, he and Wonder Boy make a good team. Being such a busy god with far more important things on your mind, you wouldn't want to waste your precious time on that brat if ever he showed up again. Here's my proposal: we will clear the Underworld of all the Heartless, and I canguarantee you that that kid will never mess with your plans ever again."

"Got any proof? Eye witnesses? Signed confessions? Photographs? His cold, dead, rotten body?"

Suddenly lowering his voice, Xigbar lead the interested god to the windows, their backs turned to the other three. Roxas frowned at the abrupt secrecy. He frowned even more when Axel and Demyx didn't appear to be as clueless as he was. Axel was good at uncovering secrets he was not meant to know, but Demyx? It was a bit of an insult to be even less aware of a situation than the Nocturne.

"You think Xigbar's gonna offer up one of us as a sacrifice after all?" Roxas asked Axel softly.

"Yeah, dummy, that's exactly what we need: to lose another member," Axel said, very obviously hiding something behind that mocking response. "Just wait and see. Xigbar knows what he's doing."

"Who's the kid that defeated Hades before? How come I never heard of him?" Roxas then asked Demyx, hoping that Demyx would do what he did best: mess up and slip up.

"Nobody—I mean, not that he is a Nobody ... er, was a Nobody ... I ... um ... "

"Just some punk who also had a Keyblade," Axel butted in, finding what had to be the most interesting spot of wall he'd ever laid eyes on. "Came out of nowhere, did some damage, then vanished. Whatever he was up to, we never bothered to find out. Probably went into one too many battles and lost. No one's heard from him in a very long time."

There was something fishy going on here. Now Demyx had found his own patch of wall to become fixated on, and Axel nervously scratched the back of his neck under Roxas' betrayed glare, yet he did not change his story nor offer any more details, fabricated or not.

"Oh, reeeeeaaaally?"

... Why was the Lord of the Dead now glowering at him?

Xigbar quickly said something, urging Hades to back around.

"What the hell was that?" Roxas asked, grabbing Axel's sleeve and tugging insistently. "Did you see that? What's Xigbar telling him? What's it got to do with me?"

Axel and Demyx shared one of those irritating knowing looks. It really wouldn't have been this frustrating for Roxas if it had been anyone but Demyx. He really liked Demyx, but ... It was Demyx! Since when had he become so good at keeping secrets? He'd once been roped into helping Axel rig a few explosions in Vexen's laboratory, then unintentionally ratted them both out by asking Zexion how best to destroy the evidence. This was the guy who'd once lost at hide and seek ... while playing by himself.

"Sold!" Hades exclaimed, clasping hands with Xigbar while sharing devilish grins that would cause the instantaneous deaths of a thousand kittens, before heading back over to where Axel, Demyx and Roxas—who still wondered why Hades kept giving him poorly concealed looks of pure hatred—stood at the centre of the room.

"Come on, people, work with me here," Hades said, shooing them to the side. "Be a good audience and just stand by, watch, and applaud when prompted, okay? Love ya. I don't like any of you any more than you like me so let's just get this over with and get you guys out of my hair."

Demyx was about to say something thoughtless and stupid here, but a slap upside the head from Xigbar silenced him just in time.

"Okey-dokey. Let me see ... " Hades thought for a moment. "Gotta say, I like a challenge. Bringing people back from the dead? Piece a cake. There are so many of them I'm literally tripping over them every time I step foot outside my front door. Never got a request like this before, though, and I really wouldn't waste time trying it out if it didn't promise a very tempting payoff."

"Only if you can find them," Xigbar reminded, watching with interest as a shining hole began to widen in the middle of the floor. "Nothingness isn't the same as Death, is it?"

"Nope, but everything's got a counterpart. Guy; girl. Good; bad. Alive; dead. Existence; nonexistence. Marriage; suicide. You get the drift," Hades said, lazily churning the swirling green fog with a hand until it turned black. "And since there's no such thing as Nothingness, anything that was alive must go somewhere when time runs out. And wouldn't ya know it, I happen to rule over a world that's nothing more than one big dumping ground for the living world's leftovers. If it was kicking around up there, it ended up down here."

A scream suddenly rose from the brewing pit. A bloodcurdling, spine-chilling wail of unbelievable despair that was absolutely heartbreaking to hear—

"Shaddup!" Hades sighed, blasting a ball of fire into the smoke. "Jeez, what a drama queen. But hey, it's a good thing. Means the way's now open. If I fish around long enough I might be able to bring back the two you mentioned, er ... what were their names again?"

And then it happened—and Roxas was sure that if were to look out the window he'd see that hell itself had finally frozen over: Xigbar managed to look even more demonic than the Lord of the Dead himself.

"A couple of old friends of ours," the Freeshooter said, drawing all eyes towards him. "I think they still go by their old names: Marluxia and Larxene."

TBC ...


A/N: Heh, I was tempted to end that with a clichéd "DUN-DUN-DUUNNNN!" instead of the usual TBC ...

Not much Xemnas in this chapter, I'm afraid, but with him accompanying Xaldin on his next mission I think ya'll can guess what's coming up. Yup: Xemnas/Saix confrontation!! What will their reactions be? And how will Garmjaw take this new/old threat to his and Saix's budding relationship? And what will Xaldin do about it on his own? And how will Xigbar and Roxas and Axel and Demyx react to the news? And how the fuck will bringing Marluxia and Larxene back from the dead—er, phase-of-none-existence-all-Nobodies-face help anything? And will Luxord really turn out to be the father of the Port Royal tavern wench's triplets???

... Okay, so that last one is probably best saved for another time, but there's a lot of stuff going down in chapter 10! (And no, it won't be the final chapter.)

Read & Review, please.

(PS. I know it is cumbersome for me to put "Read & Review, please." at the end of every chapter, since you've obviously already read it and whether you review it is entirely up to you, but it just makes the ending of a chapter look more complete. Never mind what it actually says: just consider "Read & Review, please" to be one overly long full stop. It's just my way of closing off another chapter. It's a force of habit I cannot break, much like promising myself to eat just one chocolate cookie a day and then inhaling the entire pack in the time it takes me to walk the thirty or so paces from the kitchen to my computer.)