Roxas has never been in Castle Oblivion. He never would have expected his search to end here. If he'd asked Axel what had really happened, maybe he wouldn't have spent so long looking elsewhere. Or maybe Axel would have kept his secrets. The other Nobody played both sides so well, even Roxas wasn't always sure what he really thought.
Yellows and blues and reds flash across displays as he strides down the hall, the bright primary colors of childhood being resorted and redrawn before Roxas' eyes. Only the deep shadows of his hood keep him from being blinded by the kaleidoscopic color. There are status bars everywhere, showing ten percent of this memory and ninety-seven percent of that. It all centers on one boy, floating like a drowning victim in his pod. His eyes are closed, face still with the peace only total unconsciousness can bring. It's a face Roxas almost recognizes; it's close enough to his own to be a twin. Months of searching and trading Axel to make portals have brought him to this white-on-white place. Blonde hair flops in his eyes as stares up at his goal with something he thinks might be awe.
He knows what color those eyes will be.
There's something unsettling, something indefinably wrong about treating a whole personality as a toy to be broken and fixed. Even if that personality has been wrecked already, he can't help thinking that it should stop. Roxas steps up to the control panel, gloved fingers gliding over the buttons and finally hovering over one. It's red, marked "release", as though anyone would mistake the presence of a red button against white everything. A single push, and he could fix everythingcould end everything.
"Who are you?" The question comes from behind him, frail and soft. Roxas keeps one hand on the console as he turns. The girl looks as delicate as she sounds, in a dress that matches the rest of the building. "Are you from the Organization?"
"Not exactly." He smiles even though she can't see it, and considers the button under his palm.