Many thanks to Riku Kingdom Hearts for your help with this chapter!

It should have been impossible for a man with no heart to feel such pain.

Saïx thought he'd seen the worst of it, this miserable half-existence that was being a Nobody. He thought he had nothing left to lose. Yet there he was, crumpled in a heap on the floor, a sniveling mess, having finally learned just how wrong he was. He had gotten a little too comfortable in the assumption that he'd always have Axel. After all, they only had each other. Their plans, their promises. Even without hearts, they could so easily fool themselves into believing they still felt real love. They could learn to accept whatever life they had, living as if nothing had changed. Until today. Until the very moment the words "It's over" were muttered. Until he watched those green eyes turn away and that red mane disappear into the distance. Axel was everything, and he took everything when he left. It was only then that Saïx realized he had truly lost it all. He was alone. He had nothing. For the first time, he could feel the hollowness in his chest. Xehanort had robbed him of the ability to feel happiness. Axel had robbed him of the memory of that feeling. Xehanort had stolen his heart. Axel had stolen its echo. Now, in this moment, he couldn't decide which had hurt him more.

It's not real. It's not real…

He wandered the castle in a daze, blinded by his own tears, lost in his anguish. There was nowhere he could go that he did not think of him. He wasn't sure how, but he managed to wind up in Addled Impasse. The room was wide and empty, affording him at least the privacy to collapse in despair. His mind replayed every word, every image, every moment they had ever spent together on an endless loop. The memories bombarded him by the hundreds, the thousands. He lost track of the time he'd spent lying motionless on the ground, his tears dripping onto the tile beneath him, staring into the void through the tall windows.

He heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind him. They were slow, almost leisurely, growing louder the closer they came. Saïx couldn't bring himself to turn around, but looked up into the glass to find the reflection of his Superior standing over him. It was unlike Xemnas to stroll about the castle aimlessly, and even more so to seek out his comrades for casual conversation. Perhaps Saïx had been there all night and missed his shift, and the man had come to deliver a reprimand. He braced himself for the worst, knowing full well that Xemnas couldn't hurt him any deeper than he already was.

"Saïx."

The tone of his voice was unreadable as always. Saïx sniffled, hastily wiping his face and sitting upright. "Sir."

"It's quite late," the Superior remarked. "And you seem troubled."

Saïx climbed to his feet, averting his eyes. Xemnas heavily discouraged displays of strong emotions such as this. Laughter was seen as an insult. Crying was considered weak. Pleasure and pain were outside their grasp, and the lot of them were instructed to embrace it with the whole of their being. Saïx could hear the Superior's booming voice in his head already. Empty men were uniquely powerful. One cannot harm someone who cannot feel, and nothing could be taken from a man who had nothing. "No, sir… I just couldn't sleep."

A hand found his shoulder. Its grasp was firm and grounding at the same time that it was gentle and comforting. "There is no need to keep it from me."

His resolve was wavering. Saïx's face twisted in an effort to stem the fresh flow of tears, choking back the impending breakdown threatening to wash over him yet again. He clenched his fists and held his breath, willing himself to regain control. It was foolish to let himself be overwhelmed like this by emotions that weren't even real.

The more he fought it, the harder it fought back. He slammed the window with his hands, dropping his head and admitting defeat. False as it was, the pain was simply too great. He could hardly think. The Superior had taken a few steps closer and was patting his back. To Saïx's surprise, he repeated none of his silly mantras about casting off the weakness of emotion and resisting the temptation of its false afterimage. He made no claims about whether or not the heartache was real, and he didn't scold his young comrade for weeping over it.

"There, there, my son…" Xemnas whispered. "Tell me what has happened."

Saïx shook his head, muffling his voice in his sleeve. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"It matters to you," taking Saïx by the shoulder, Xemnas turned him from the window to face him. He cupped the boy's chin, lifting gently until their eyes met. "Who has hurt you?"

Saïx's vision was clouded with tears, but if he didn't know better, he'd have mistaken the Superior's expression for genuine sympathy. To his dismay, the pain only worsened at the revelation. Of course Xemnas' display was just a performance. He didn't feel any real concern for Saïx at all. He chided himself for his continued failure and tried to wrestle himself away. He'd been fooled yet again like the dense halfwit that he was. "I have no heart. I cannot be hurt."

Xemnas did not argue a word, and only raised a hand to brush the newly-fallen tears from his cheeks. "You poor boy," he muttered regretfully. "When one loses his heart, he must also lose the bonds it had formed. It is a piteous inevitability of our nature."

He didn't protest when Saïx had finally wriggled free and stormed back to the window, letting his forehead fall onto the glass. The Superior, whether he meant well or not, was just rambling as far as he was concerned. Saïx was barely listening to the man's feeble attempts to console him, preferring to be left alone to wallow in grief.

Xemnas followed him to the window, continuing his poetic explanation with the same apologetic cadence. "It stands to reason that hearts of great strength can cast imposing shadows. Perhaps some of those shadows may linger on after the hearts are lost. At times, the pleasure, or the pain, can feel as real as they did when we were human."

Saïx sank to the floor, so overcome with anguish that he could no longer stand. His eyes were burning with the onslaught of tears, and his stomach was aching from the force of his sobs. Years must have passed since he'd last shed tears over anything or anyone. How cruel he was to ever ridicule Axel for crying, to go so far as he had in order to make him stop. He pondered what the man might think if he saw him now, a pathetic wretch lying at the Superior's feet, weeping openly like a child. It would have been the perfect retribution. He supposed Axel would probably laugh in his face at the irony. He deserved it. He deserved this.

He lay there for several minutes, sputtering and moaning, unable to even speak, and yet Xemnas only sighed. "Oh, Saïx… Your suffering fills me with remorse. How I wish that I could take that pain away."

Saïx paused at this. Xemnas was the Superior of the In-Between. He was ruler over all of Nothingness. Surely among his immense power was the ability to end his sorrows. If he had the authority to rip out their hearts, he must be capable of also destroying those shadows left behind. "C-Can you?" he stammered, dragging his arm across his nose. "Please, sir… If you can stop this…"

Xemnas stepped a few paces away, stroking his chin. "Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps… there is something."

At last, Saïx's crying had ceased. For just a moment, he felt a glimmer of relief in hoping that the Superior could help him in some way. He staggered back to his feet, brushing the wrinkles from his coat and sweeping his hair out of his face, frozen in anticipation. It didn't matter what it would take — Saïx would do it. He would endure anything Xemnas inflicted upon him if it meant he'd be free of this pain. Holding his breath, he waited patiently as Xemnas let his gaze fall on him, the frightening image of a young man so desperate for relief that he would have accepted death as an alternative to the crushing agony he thought he felt. If the Superior had any compassion left in him, Saïx prayed that he might use it now and grant him the healing he longed for.

Xemnas gave him a long look, seemingly considering the request. Saïx had neither breathed nor blinked, staring eagerly at him with wide eyes. A beat of silence passed, then another, before the Superior heaved sigh and shook his head. "Ah, child, it is too risky."

With nothing left to lose, Saïx implored him insistently. "I am willing to take the risk, sir."

"It is dangerous, Saïx. What would I do if harm had befallen you?" He offered one last affectionate squeeze of his young comrade's shoulder. "Your wounds will mend with time."

He turned and proceeded solemnly toward the exit, making clear his intention to end the conversation there. Saïx stood paralyzed, crestfallen as he watched his only chance for relief heading for the door. It was an all-too familiar sight, much like when Axel had turned away and left him standing in a pool of anguish. Perhaps this was all he would ever know now — people claiming to care about him, only to cast him aside, leaving him in the dust. Perhaps it was no less than what he deserved. The pain flooded him, eating at him from the inside out. It was unbearable, excruciating. He couldn't stand it any longer. It was over. There was nothing for him here. He would rather be a Dusk than be forced to live with an injury such as this. His only options now were a fragment of Xemnas' generosity, or one flying leap off the top of the castle.

Saïx broke into a run, following after the Superior and catching the tail of his coat. He collapsed to his knees, bowing his head and pleading for his mercy. "Sir, I beg you…" he sobbed. "I-I beseech you… I will do anything, Superior. Please, take this pain from me."

Over and over he entreated Xemnas to either release him from the torturous agony of heartbreak or put him out of his misery. After several moments of tense silence, he heard the Superior exhale deeply.

"You are certain that this is what you wish?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded, blubbering into the hem of his master's coat. "More than anything. Please, help me…"

A smile crept into the Superior's voice as he bent down and extended his hands to pull the young man to his feet. "Very well, my son. I will liberate you from this pain."

Saïx was positively elated. "Th-Thank you, sir… Your generosity is boundless…"

Xemnas grinned, gesturing for him to stand and wait. Saïx stood rigidly in the center of the room, trembling and squeezing his eyes shut as the man stepped a good distance away. Finally, the wrenching pain would cease. He could forget all of this sorrow and grief at last. He took several deep breaths, working to still his trembling fingers as he waited for whatever spell might be performed. There was a blinding flash, so bright that he could see it through his eyelids. The air grew intensely cold, biting at his flesh with the chill. He thought perhaps he would hear something. A whoosh of magic as it bent the space between them, a static in the atmosphere, but he heard nothing at all. Taking a breath, he opened his eyes to find that he was no longer in Addled Impasse. He was not in the Castle That Never Was at all. He was in the middle of a pitch black void, staring at an enormous celestial object overhead with the appearance of a heart-shaped moon. He'd heard about this — supposedly this was what Kingdom Hearts looked like. But how had he gotten here? Was this the real Kingdom Hearts?

There was an electric blue glow surrounding the moon, radiating from its borders and reaching him in one swirling beam. The sight of it was captivating in its otherworldly beauty. He'd seen many moons in his lifetime, but none as lovely as this one. His eyes were pasted to its bright surface and its vibrant corona. The energy wafting from the sky enveloped his body. There was a warm vibration on his skin, like a current. It soothed him so perfectly so that he no longer felt cold. He'd forgotten the pain. The experience of the moon's gentle caress was the most pleasurable sensation he'd ever felt.

Xemnas was speaking — chanting some sort of incantation, perhaps — but Saïx couldn't make out a word of it. With every phrase, his voice rose in volume until he was shouting into the abyss, commanding the forces around them to yield to his will. The moon shone even more brightly until it was too much for Saïx's eyes. He tried to close them, to avert his gaze, but he couldn't look away. The warmth engulfing him was getting too hot and too heavy. He couldn't breathe. He gaped helplessly as another blinding flash of light struck him, instantly blinking his surroundings out of existence and replacing it all with immeasurable darkness.

There was an intense pain like none he'd ever felt. He screamed and fell to the ground in shock. He'd been burned. He could feel it between his eyes. Something had burned his face. Still blind and helpless, he writhed on the floor, panting heavily. He tried to crawl, searching for a landmark that might indicate where he was. He reached out ahead of him, hoping his hand might collide with something, anything. Finally, after several minutes of flailing about in the dark, he came in contact with a cool, smooth surface. Glass. A window. Of course, he was back in Addled Impasse.

The pain in his forehead had dissipated, only to be replaced by an uncomfortable heaviness in his chest. His vision was clearing, and soon he could see the gradually sharpening image of the marble pattern beneath him. He scanned the room all around him to find that he was alone. Xemnas was gone. He wondered if it had all been a nightmare. Perhaps he had cried himself to sleep here and dreamed the whole thing. When he was confident that his limbs could bear his weight, he lifted himself to his feet and took a glance in the reflective window beside him.

He gasped, nearly falling over at the sight of an unrecognizable figure standing in his place. He blinked several times. He wheeled around to check behind him. There was no mistaking that he was staring at his own mirror image. But, it couldn't be him. The boy in the window had sickening, pointed ears and haunting, yellow eyes. He shed his gloves and reached for his own ears, suddenly nauseated when he discovered that they were just as pointed as the ones on his reflection. He stepped forward and peered closely at his eyes. Once a dazzling teal, now they were an unnatural, lifeless amber. The most glaring change of all was dominating the center of his face, carved into the skin over the bridge of his nose. He hesitated before planting his fingers into his brow, confirming the dreaded truth.

There, seared into the flesh between his eyes, was a fierce, menacing wound in the shape of an X.

"Ouch! Damn it, Marluxia, put me down!"

Saïx's eyes shot open, quickly blinded by the fluorescent chandeliers of the Grey Area. The startling whoosh of a dark corridor opening roused him from his dream, and at the sound of Larxene shouting in defiance, he turned to find Marluxia half-carrying her as she limped through the portal. They staggered to the nearest chair, where he lowered her carefully onto the cushion, all the while fighting against her furious protests. They were not expected to return for at least two hours. They were winded and covered in sweat and dirt. Puzzled and a bit alarmed by their early arrival, Saïx rushed to meet them. "What happened?"

Larxene, wincing as Marluxia rolled up the leg of her pants, was practically red in the face. "Those morons!" she hollered angrily. "Snap one twig and they start firing!"

"What?" Saïx's eyes widened. "They shot you?"

"They tried, and missed," Marluxia answered, shaking his head and sighing as he gently tugged off Larxene's boot. "We were following them back to their camp. They heard us and got spooked."

"Idiots!" Larxene growled through gritted teeth. "Haven't got one brain cell to split between them—!"

"Larxene lost her footing and sprained her ankle," Marluxia continued under her bellowing. "It looks pretty bad."

Saïx took a step closer and peered at the injured limb, his stomach dropping heavily when he saw how much it had begun to swell. If it wasn't examined by Zexion right away, she ran the risk of ending up like Axel — and the Organization would be down another comrade. "Take her to Zexion, quickly."

Larxene shot him a seething glare. "It's not that bad! I can still search!"

"Not on one leg, you can't," Saïx retorted. "Go and have it fixed. If you're lucky, it will heal up before tomorrow's rotation."

Marluxia hooked an arm under her shoulders and was lifting her from the chair. "Come on, Larxene, let's go—"

"You heard what they said, Marluxia!" she insisted with growing urgency in her voice, stopping both men in their tracks. "We have to find him before it's too late!"

Saïx paused, his eyes darting rapidly between the pair. "What is it? What did you hear?"

Marluxia sighed heavily. "We don't even know if they were talking about him…"

"Who else could it be?!"

"Larxene—"

"Let me go!" she wrenched herself out of his grasp, taking a few uneven steps toward the door. "Stop treating me like I'm so fragile! This isn't like back then!"

She was standing on her own, albeit looking quite wobbly. Her last words rang harshly, amplifying with every echo, driving in their meaning like a hammer to nails. Marluxia just stared at her without a word, watching helplessly as she whipped around and disappeared into another dark corridor, leaving the two men to stew in awkward silence. Saïx had assumed that Marluxia would follow her, but rather than taking his leave, he stayed in place with a thoughtful look in his eyes. "My apologies… She's not been herself lately."

"Really?" Saïx raised an eyebrow. "I hadn't noticed."

Marluxia smirked, barely suppressing a light laugh. "Larxene is guarded. That's nothing new," he crossed his arms, seeming almost defeated as he took on a more serious tone. "But this mission shook her deeply. She was trembling as we listened to those men talking. It was her gasp of surprise that frightened them into firing their weapons."

"What did they say?"

After a long pause, Marluxia lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "I think Vexen might be alive."

Saïx gasped sharply. "You're sure?"

Marluxia wasted no time elaborating. "They spoke of a prisoner they're holding. His execution is set for tomorrow at high noon."

"And you believe it could be him?"

It was clear from his hesitation that Marluxia couldn't be certain, but for the moment, Saïx would have taken any percentage of confidence the man could exude. "At times, it was difficult to understand them, but they mentioned a 'foreign, heretic priest.' I believe they are charging him with witchcraft."

It wasn't the worst-case scenario, but it was one step away. If Marluxia's report was accurate, then the stakes were about as high as they could be. They had just over twenty-four hours to track Vexen down and rescue him. If they failed to do so, they'd not only lose him, but Roxas as well, and whatever creature was living in the boy's body would be set loose on the rest of the Organization. If they even survived, the fragments of their shattered reality would be thrown into chaos. The entire experiment, the Organization's shared goal, and everything Saïx gave a damn about was in jeopardy.

Shit.

"If that's the case, then our situation is critical. Expect new orders on the rotation schedule."

Marluxia nodded. "Of course."

While he headed for the door, Saïx was left to think. He'd prepared for this — there were contingency plans in place for even worse outcomes than this one, and yet now it all seemed woefully inadequate. Even if all his able-bodied comrades stormed the camp, guns ablaze, throwing stealth out the window entirely, they could encounter a civilization of hundreds, armed to the teeth and itching for war. And with Larxene's new injury, the Organization was down to only eight people who were fit to work — and that was if Xemnas and Saïx joined the search themselves.

His thoughts on Larxene quickly triggered a foggy memory from his past, one that she'd inadvertently referenced before leaving the Grey Area. It was an incident toward which he hadn't put much thought over the years, but now prompted a nagging question of which he simply couldn't let go.

"Marluxia," he called out before the man could exit. "What happened back then?"

Marluxia turned, seeming surprised. "I thought you knew."

Saïx had only ever guessed, never having the opportunity or the desire to ask. But having witnessed Larxene's outburst, cryptic as it was, stirred up the impulse. His disinterest lapsed as curiosity set in, and to see his suspicions confirmed made him regret taking that leap now, knowing he'd intruded into their private matters. When the revelation sank in, he quickly understood Larxene's sudden adamance to continue the search, and could only imagine what the situation with Roxas meant to her. It was a dark topic into which he'd never meant to stray, a hardship he would never face, and therefore never truly understand. He did not belong here. He was out of his element, trespassing into unfamiliar territory, and he'd been caught red-handed.

"I'm sorry."

"Hmph," Marluxia shrugged. "We were too young. It was unexpected. But she poured her whole heart into it. Until there wasn't any left."

As far as Saïx had been concerned, the nature of Marluxia and Larxene's relationship was their business and theirs alone. He never knew nor cared whether they were in an 'on' phase or 'off' phase, preferring to regard them both in a strictly professional manner. But a small part of him could relate to their turmoil, the constant struggle of deciding whether they, as Nobodies, could be something or nothing. It was a question he'd asked himself more times than he could count.

Marluxia and Larxene had achieved a milestone as a couple that even Saïx and Axel — at the peak of their own romantic tale — hadn't reached. What they'd accomplished demanded a commitment that neither Saïx nor Axel had the fortitude to offer. There was a strength to their bond that couldn't be matched — an admirable quality that Saïx might have aspired to, once upon a time. And yet, the fruits of those promises had been snatched away from them in what he would have described as an unspeakable tragedy, were he human enough to be moved by such a story.

"Saïx," Marluxia asked quietly after a long while. "Do you believe that a Nobody can be traumatized?"

All at once, the images from the dream bombarded Saïx's mind in a thunderous crash. He felt the unforgettable burn in his forehead, the hot tears spilling from his unseeing eyes, the dizzying confusion of wandering through the black void, searching for anything familiar to lead him home. He remembered when the regret set in as the realization of what he'd done came over him, staring at himself in that reflective window, too shocked to cry out in terror at the sight of his newly disfigured face. He closed his eyes and could see Axel's broken body lying in the shower stall, barely conscious, only ever opening his eyes to give his old friend a look of terror, agony, and betrayal. Try as he did, Saïx could not simply wipe those thoughts away. Night after night, they came for him, every time he let himself drift off, repeating in perfect clarity until he was ready to slam his head into a wall.

He avoided Marluxia's eyes as he answered. "We remember what pain felt like. We remember the impact it left," he said flatly. "Not that I would know any better."

To Saïx's relief, Marluxia asked no more questions, instead taking his leave in silence. The sound of his footsteps could be heard echoing in the empty halls for several seconds after he'd disappeared from sight, and it wasn't until he could no longer sense the man's presence that Saïx dropped his guard again. He was alone now — at least as alone as he could be with such persistently racing thoughts. For a moment, he reflected on those last few words spoken between him and the comrade with whom he'd never truly connected before. Perhaps Larxene had been traumatized back then, and in a way, perhaps Marluxia had been as well. Saïx wondered then if he, too, had been traumatized. He'd certainly never thought of it that way. Thoughts were just thoughts. Dreams were only dreams. Memories were simply memories. All figments of his own imagination that could never truly harm him. Ultimately, he figured his response to the trauma of his past was practical and logical, fitting for a man with no heart.

And yet, there was a lingering distress in him that he couldn't ignore. Something which pulled and tugged at him until he was sure he'd snap like a rubber band. It was unyielding and painful, tormenting him like a thousand little knives in his flesh. Perhaps this was it. He knew it was only a matter of time before it would happen. Little by little, he'd been watching himself disappear, knowing that he would soon be swallowed up entirely. It was a sickening sensation, feeling himself rot away from the inside out. He longed to tell Axel. He should have been able to tell Axel. But he couldn't. He kept the man at a distance for his own safety in the face of a real and ongoing threat that he didn't have the heart to confess. There was no sense explaining it to him anyway. He simply wouldn't understand. He'd try to be optimistic, to say everything would be alright. He'd make more promises destined to be broken. He'd instill a sense of hope in Saïx that wasn't warranted, and Saïx was quickly growing tired of hope.

He lifted his hand and clutched his chest, searching for that beating that Roxas had shown him. It was that relic from his human days that Saïx clung to — a reminder of his purpose, a wish that had dared him to believe it could come true. Minutes passed while he slid his fingers all around, even taking off his glove and pressing into his bare skin, desperate to feel that gentle thumping, no matter how faint. He couldn't find it. The first glimpse of light in what had been a decade of darkness, and it was gone. His chest was empty, just as he should have expected.

Saïx flew out of the Grey Area at a brisk pace, hoping he wouldn't encounter anyone on the way to his destination. He was thoroughly convinced that Roxas had found his heart. Weak, stifled, imprisoned, but alive. Saïx was going to find that beating. He would take himself to the brink of physical exhaustion if he had to — whatever it would take to get it pumping again. Perhaps his efforts would be futile, but this was a dream he would pursue until there was no more road for him to traverse. Saïx hadn't given up on hope yet. This was his last shred of it, and he clasped it tightly with all the willpower he possessed. He needed this, now more than ever.

I want to take a moment to give a special shout out to my good friend Riku Kingdom Hearts. She's really been helping me a lot with holding onto the inspiration I need to write some of the more difficult chapters of all my stories. She is a great writer, a dedicated reader, and a wonderful friend. Go check out her work!

Thanks as always for sticking with this story - such exciting things are coming up so I hope you'll stay tuned! Follow me on tumblr (ostelanexcruciasm) and twitter (ostelan) to see sneak previews of my writing, Data Greeting photos, and whatever else I decide to babble about (a whole hell of a lot of FF7R right now). And don't forget to come join my discord server, dedicated to our love of Kingdom Hearts! (/ffy5E8G)

As the world descends further into chaos, I hope you'll always find refuge in fan fiction. May my stories bring you to a state of peace, at least for a little while.

Peace and Love,

Ostelan