Learassio liked to watch the fire. That wonderful, flickering light that he could give life - and use to take life. And there was little that wouldn't burn. From grass to bone, anything could be consumed by the crimson glow. It was his lover and his God.
This time it was a house going up in smoke, wood and timbers going up in so much smoke and ash. They'd never catch him; the police of Provence hadn't a chance. He was too clean, and in the little village he was planning on next, there was naught but a half-wit hunter named Gaston to watch out for.
But this night, something was strange. The hot orange glow, reflected in his pale hazel eyes, was moving. Shifting. Not like fire was supposed to, but rather like something was trying to get out. And then he saw the shadows, crawling and floating and stalking forward, twisted monsters with glowing eyes and ragged claws, and there was nothing to do but run.
It was too late, Learassio knew, as soon as he heard the cracking of twigs. He didn't need to turn, didn't need to see the golden eyes leering at him from beyond the forest's edge, but he saw it anyway. He was trapped, cut off.
"Shit," he growled.
Without another moment's hesitation, he turned to run again, and leapt over one of the smaller monsters in his way. They had taken up the chase, but he was fast, made so by years of running from the scene. Now, instead, he was running towards it.
A crack of thunder. A voice calls out.
"We can help you, boy!" it says, flat and lifeless but so persuasive all the same. "Give in to the darkness. Give in to Organization X!"
But he kept running, not wasting his breath on a response. The air grew hot, the light flared brighter, and the crash of falling timbers rang out in his ears. Sparks flashed through the air, pricking at his skin.
He knew the tide was still behind him, knew that it was death or death with the offer of aid never factoring into his mind, for Learassio didn't need help for anyone. And one death was clearly better than the other.
"Let's see what the fire really looks like," he whispered, and then it was all smoke and heat, licking at him with wispy tongues, choking the air from his lungs.
When the beasts attacked, he didn't notice. He never registered when they pulled loose his heart. There was just fire one moment and darkness the next.
Darkness.
From atop the ridge where the strange brunet had started, Xemnas clucked in disappointment.
"Foolish," he sighed.
Saïx, standing next to him, silently agreed.
The fire crackled, and the Heartless shrieked in pain or joy, Xemnas cared not which. They would die by his hand, or the claymore of his new comrade, soon enough. For now, he just watched.
And saw a shape begin to emerge.
Hair fiery red, but still wild and long.
Eyes flashing green fire.
"Organization X, huh?" he drawled. "Then call me Axel. A-X-E-L."
'Axel' paused. Something felt wrong, something...missing. Then it clicked.
"Got it memorized?"