i was going to wait until Saturday to post this, but it was done, so I figured why mot post it now. This is one of my favourite chapters even thought it is also one of the shorter ones (by like a negligible amount). It was supposed to go with the previous chapter and act as a contrast to the frantic violence of that one, but Chapter 4 got too long so I had to split it up. This one is a lot more emotional and quieter than that one, but I think that it is much more important in the long-run. I'm sure by the chapter title, everyone has figured out why.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Disney, or Final Fantasy. All are the properties of their respective owners.

5

Rep

For hours the replica ran past an unchanging landscape, no longer able to marvel in wonder at how the air felt as it dried his throat raw while he craved for water, nor how the hard ground crunched below his aching feet as he traversed hill after hill. The road before him seemed to swim as exhaustion threatened to claim him. But the replica was certain that the path had to be leading somewhere. Over and over he would promise himself, "One more hill, just one more hill and they won't find you."

But the longer he ran the farther from truth that seemed. The winding road, it seemed, was succeeding in taking him away from the castle but was leading him deeper into nothingness. He had hoped to find something, anything, at its end.

Several times he had halted and attempted to open a portal by the roadside. Each time merely ended with him having to lower his arm, feeling angrier by the second with the knowledge that Riku would never have encountered this setback, and continue running.

His body was drained, his lungs ached, and his strength had all but withered away. He wanted to collapse on the side of the road and convince himself that it was over, that Axel had given up searching. Or maybe that Zexion had returned to wherever he called home and was now leading the rest of the Organization against Axel.

Or against him.

With a growl, he shook the idea from his head. "I need a sign. Just something to tell me I'm going the right way."

Suddenly he saw a flash of green on the ground. It was so small and went by so quickly that he wasn't sure it had really been there. But then he saw another, followed by another. The replica slowed enough to realize that they were single blades of grass poking through rocks and dirt. The replica hoped with all his heart that their presence meant that he was getting close to water.

He tore up a large hill, panting fiercely. The grass was slowly becoming more abundant as he neared the top, revealing itself in clumps rather than individual blades. With numb legs, the replica rounded the hill's crest. He gave a mixed sigh of relief and disappointment at the sight that greeted him. Beyond the hill lay a vast field full that was full of grass dancing through the soft breeze in light waves, only broken by the path he was on crossing with three others. He could not make out any puddles or streams, or any end in sight to the road that lay before him, but the field looked so inviting that the replica knew he had to stop and finally rest.

The replica slowed to a walk as he reached the crossroads, their implication of the choice he would soon have to make hanging over him. Carefully he sat down on a large boulder, laying Soul Eater propped against it so that he could quickly grab for it. The replica took many deep breaths to soothe his aching lungs, though his throat was still parched and rough. Feeling suffocated by the skin-tight material, he allowed the dark suit to dissolve around him until he was left in a sleeveless yellow top, adorned with a black X that stretched from his shoulders to his hips, and a pair of baggy, waterproof blue waders that protected his jeans.

He focused all of his attention on searching for hostile scents. There were none, though he did not discount the possibility of Axel or the Heartless using a portal to reach him. Yet as the night's soft breeze rustled through his hair and along his aching muscles, the replica felt safe. It was not a feeling he knew or even understood.

"Stop it," he ordered himself the moment he felt his concentration relax. His fingers twitched towards Soul Eater's handle as the wind swished through the grassy field; the sound could potentially mask approaching footsteps or a portal opening. "Focus. You don't have time to waste here."

The replica suddenly realized how unpleasantly hot he felt in two pairs of pants after running for so long. He tried to rip off the outer layer, but found that his shoes were too large for them to easily go over. Tucking his legs up on the rock, the replica kicked off his shoes and ripped off the waders, leaving him feeling much more comfortable in only his jeans. Satisfied, he stretched out his shaking legs and let his bare feet fall forward. The replica gasped when they touched the ground.

"Grass."

It felt incredible – alive – and far more wonderful than Riku's memories showed him. He waved his toes gently through the grass until he could bear the curiosity no longer and, almost timidly, slid off the rock and onto the ground. After the stone walls of the castle, it was the most incredible thing he had ever felt. The replica flopped onto his stomach and lay his hand hovering flat over the ground. Back and forth he waved it so that the tips of each blade only just brushed his bare skin. He marveled at the sensation, biting back a grin as it tickled his palm.

Stretching farther, his hand ran over something round and smooth. Curiously he grabbed for it and by closing his fist around it, he could tell it was a small stone. He pushed himself up onto his elbow and absently began to sketch using the ground as his canvas. Soon swirls, circles, and stars decorated the thick grass in front of him. When he had all but run out of space, he pulled his arm back tossed the rock as far as he could manage. It sailed over Soul Eater and landed out of view with a soft plink. Before he could stop himself, the replica let a small laugh escape him. He quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, feeling childish and stupid.

"I don't have time for this."

At once the pleasant breeze turned bitingly cold. The replica's eyes narrowed as he rose and brushed some loose strands of grass from his hair and clothes. Axel certainly would not have given up searching for him, and the next time they met it would be unlikely that he would come unaccompanied.

With a sigh, the replica sank back down on the boulder and retrieved Soul Eater. "I'll never be able to stop running. Not until this is over."

It would never end, he knew, until either he or the entire Organization fell. He twirled the sword's handle idly between his fingertips as he considered the crossroads. One road, he knew, led back to Castle Oblivion. Even in desperation, the replica knew he would rather give himself up to Axel than set foot in his prison again. The other three were mysteries, though no one looked less dark and lonely than the other.

"But where am I supposed to run to? No matter where I go…"

"I'll always be a replica."

Slowly the replica turned towards the centre of crossroads. Using the tip of Soul Eater, he scratched his title into the dirt where the roads met. Riku Replica. He stared mutely at the words, his eyes settling first on 'Riku' then 'Replica'.

"Riku," he read with a lump in his throat. The cross shaped wound on his jaw began to twinge as he spoke. "That could have been my name if I had defeated you back there or even just listened to Axel and gone along with his plan. I could have just taken your place. I have all of your memories and it's not like Sora could tell the difference before. I could have had everything I ever wanted."

Gritting his teeth, he snapped at the crisp air, almost wishing that Riku could hear him. "I could have been more than your shadow. I could have been you…" he laughed bitterly, correcting himself, "No, I could have been me."

He kicked Riku's name, reducing it once again to shadowy earth. He turned back to the remaining word - Replica. "But then what would I be? Nothing. Just someone who could never deserve Sora and Naminé's friendship. Someone who would have to live with the knowledge of what I am and what I'd done forever."

He sighed, and gathered dark flames in his hand. "Whatever you've felt before, whatever you have to be sorry for, it could never be anything like this. You're lucky, Riku. It must be so easy being real. You know who you are." He brought his hand down, defeated, as the fireball darted to the ground and assailed the word. Watching it burn gave him a grim sense of satisfaction.

He rose from the ground as the fire dissipated from the word. He prepared to walk away, fearing that he had already spent too much time so near the castle. Axel was surely not far behind and with the corridors of darkness at his disposal, at any moment he could find a chakram buried in his back.

The replica turned around slowly, recognizing that his drawings would be an obvious clue for anyone following him. He walked over to them and kicked them, smudging in the dirt so that it did not look so obvious.

Lightly he stepped back to the rock, wanting to leave as little an impression as possible. He knelt down to retrieve his discarded items when he noticed something left behind. When he had attempted to burn away the word 'Replica' he failed to complete the task and half of the word still remained etched in the ground. With a sigh, he set about erasing it, crouching down and preparing to wipe it away with his hand. However his hand stopped, immobilized, with his fingers hovering over the top of the R. Gently he traced along the letters that had endured.

"Rep," he read quietly. His heart began to drum a steady beat as he repeated the word again in his mind. He could scarcely breathe as his eyes locked on the word like nothing else in the world mattered.

The previous words had brought him nothing but pain: Riku - the one whose mere existence forced him into a shadow from which he could never escape, and Replica - the sad truth of his identity. But from that title had come Rep. It was a word that was born from replica, yet was entirely his own – just as he was from Riku.

The replica knew would never be Riku

But he could become Rep.

A smile spread across his face, spreading warmly to his eyes and touching his heart. He had a name. His body and memories had been manufactured, but he now had a name of his own - a name that had chosen for himself. He knew that no one could take that away from him. Rep wrapped his arms around his body, feeling the comforting beat of his heart in his chest, as the magnitude of what he'd done began to take root.

"I have a name," Rep told himself proudly, like if he stopped saying the words the reality would fade. For the first time he was grateful for the ability to experience every one of his emotions so completely; he never knew it was possible to feel this happy. "I have a name now."

The breeze tousled his hair comfortingly as he took a deep breath and knew what he had to do. The world he was in appeared vast, empty, and endless, a series of winding paths with no end in sight. He had to try again to open a portal. He understood now why he had been unable to do it before. He remembered the sense of despair that had clutched him when Axel had pushed him through the portal and, in the back of his mind, recalled Riku's voice telling him that his heart would never be strong enough to walk them unscathed. He had unknowingly agreed with Riku then.

But everything had changed. He had a name now, and that made all the difference.

Rep slipped his shoes and socks back on and slung the waders over his arm. He rose from the rock and stood in the centre of the crossroads with his feet touching the edges of his name. "Let them find it," he thought. "Let them know who I am."

Mimicking Axel's movements from the hallway, Rep flicked his wrist again and expected a portal to appear. Nothing happened, but Rep refused to be discouraged. With a deep breath, he summoned all of his darkest power, feeling the tide grow as it threatened to engulf him. But Rep knew that he had the will to control it and felt the surging rush of darkness travel through the length of his arm to release through his palm. Like he was calling the night sky itself to his aid, a portal opened right before his eyes.

"Even if I am just a replica and no world will accept me, I'll never know what I can become if I stay here. I have to know what's out there."

Rep did not try to lower his arm, fearing that it would close. The portal seemed endless, a swirling pool of icy blackness, welcoming him into its depths. He did not wait any longer, realizing that he had gone too far to even consider turning back, and stepped forward into the dark maw.

A scream was wrenched from his lips as the world crashed around him.

The World That Never Was

Echoes reverberated coldly throughout the hall of the Castle That Never Was as Zexion limped in the direction of the altar, upon which he would surely find Organization XIII's Superior, Xemnas. He had exited his portal in the throne room hoping to find him there, yet it was empty. Zexion focused and caught the Superior's scent at the altar, several floors above. He coughed, irritating his bruised neck in the process. Every muscle in his body was stressed from the effort just to move. The battle with Riku had nearly destroyed him and the replica's assault had robbed him of what little strength he had left. Zexion licked his dry lips, heaving as he climbed the seemingly endless stairway. He was far too weak to open another portal even with his coat protecting him from the tides of darkness.

A single, solitary thought was what allowed him to force his injured body to keep moving. He had to report the betrayal. He had to find Xemnas. Axel had tried to kill him, though for what reasons he did not know. However, Axel's motives were of little consequence. He had committed a sin of the highest order against their founders. And he would pay.

Yes, Axel would pay dearly. Demotion to a lowly Dusk, a subservient being to the Organization, would be too kind a punishment. And Xemnas certainly was not known for his compassion. He was far too smart for that, knowing that anyone would deem it as a sign of weakness and be as foolish as Marluxia to believe he could usurp him.

Zexion almost laughed. To think that that Marluxia thought he could unseat their Superior, even with the Keyblade bearer at his side was ridiculous. Did he really think that Xemnas would not be prepared? But then, owning the power of the Keyblade was enthralling, as Zexion knew, having himself had tried to use Riku's powers as a counter. And it was that plan that left him in such a predicament.

Yes, Zexion thought, Axel would pay, as would the replica who took him by the throat and tried to wrench his power, and with that his life, from him.

And yet, Zexion pondered, that very replica was not only the one who spared him but the one who saved him. Zexion had regrettably been at its mercy, yet it chose to disobey Axel. Why had it done that? Was it possible that the replica had developed beyond the parameters that Vexen had set forth for it?

Zexion shook his head. Impossible. The creature was a lowly replica. If a Nobody by its very nature did not exist, than what was a replica created by a Nobody? Nothing, or rather, it was less than nothing. And through its treasonous actions it had committed the ultimate crime against its creators. Axel was at least a member of the Organization and permitted to wear the coveted cloak. The replica was at best little more than a slave, as were the others of its kind. It was simply a failed experiment. A malfunction.

Grudgingly Zexion had to admire the replica's resilience. He knew it had survived Castle Oblivion. From within his own corridor, Zexion had caught the replica's scent in another. Although they had fled hours apart, whatever force caused the temporal differences between worlds had allowed them to traverse the corridors at the same time. Both the replica and its original similarly had the ability to identify others by their scent, however Zexion's ability to use that power was much more acute. Therefore, he also knew that the replica had not been alone in his corridor. Zexion had noted the presence of two others.

He had sensed the replica's scent diminishing rapidly as theirs had grown. Zexion had recognized the stronger scent instantly; he was a being with much greater command over darkness than the replica could ever have hoped to possess. The other, though unknown, seemed familiar somehow. As such, he had been certain that one of them would have devoured the replica. However, once again surprising him, the replica managed to open up another portal and escape as its last flickers of life were dimming.

The replica was gone for now. Yet the problem of Axel remained. But he was not overly concerned. Axel would be destroyed and the replica would fall in time. Zexion himself would see to that.

Zexion could not help but allow a smirk to escape him. Around him were twelve headstones – one for each member of the Organization, depicting their individual weapon and numerical rank. As Nobodies left nothing behind when they were killed the room had been erected as a sort of mock celebration of their lives and they had aptly called this place "Proof of Existence". Only a few weeks ago the headstones had been pristine, yet now four were red and damaged. They marked the defeats of Vexen, Larxene, Marluxia, and Lexaeus. Soon Axel would be joining them.

Zexion was suddenly aware of another being using a portal to enter the room with him. His senses told him before he saw it with his eyes that the new arrival was Saïx.

Zexion reached out to Saïx. Finally someone had come for him. He would have preferred Xemnas himself, or even Xigbar, as he was loathe to trust the Lunar Diviner. There was just something about him that Zexion disliked. He always felt a chill whenever he laid eyes on the X shaped scar that lay between two taciturn, yellow eyes. Zexion himself was cold, calculating and silent, yet something about Saïx just never seemed right. Nobodies were not human, yet Saïx somehow seemed even less so. Zexion had never mentioned his suspicions to anyone as he usually kept to himself, preferring to keep his innermost thoughts beneath a cloak of secrecy.

Zexion suspected that some of the other members had spread stories that Zexion was jealous of Saïx's closeness to Xemnas. Zexion had always regarded that with derision. He could not feel jealousy, nor any other emotion of the sort. Such ridiculous displays of a false emotion would come from Vexen or the younger members who had not yet grasped the gravity of their existence, not from him. However, on more than one occasion, Zexion had to admit to himself that he frowned upon how close a neophyte had gotten into their inner circle. That was why he had been surprised, but pleasantly so, when Xemnas had put him in charge of Castle Oblivion. Marluxia, of course, had thought he was granted such an honour, but Zexion knew the truth. Xemnas would never have been so foolish, and that was why he had entrusted Zexion to watch over Marluxia.

Zexion had tried to do something even better than what Xemnas had requested once Riku had mysteriously appeared at the castle. If Marluxia was going to use Sora, Zexion would control Riku. Then, when Marluxia inevitably fell, Zexion and the Organization would own both of the Keyblade wielders. If they could accomplish that, there would be no need for the two most recent members.

"Axel has betrayed us," Zexion snapped, scarcely able to see Saïx through the bangs falling across his eyes. "He has killed at least one in our number and then used the replica to attack me."

Saïx was one of the few who knew of the replica program. Only Xemnas, Saïx, Xigbar, Zexion himself, and of course Vexen knew the finer details of it. The others brought to Castle Oblivion, Lexaeus, Larxene, Marluxia, and Axel, likely believed that the Riku Replica they encountered was the only one of its kind. If only they knew that another was currently infiltrating their number, posing as a member under the coat.

"And what happened to Axel?"

Zexion scowled. "I don't know. To my knowledge he escaped. At least providing the replica allowed it." A part of Zexion was sincerely wishing that the replica and Axel would have finished each other off.

For the first time since he had begun, Saïx appeared interested in his story. "What?"

Zexion tried to comprehend his tone. Had Saïx been capable of emotions, Zexion would have considered it to be apprehensive. Somehow this pleased him. "Yes. Axel called the replica to attack, yet it disobeyed orders and turned on him."

"So it acted on its own accord?"

"Precisely."

If Saïx was surprised at Zexion's news, he certainly did nothing to show it. "I see," he said softly. "It will have to be retrieved immediately."

"But that doesn't matter!" cried Zexion. "Axel betrayed me – betrayed the Organization! And your only concern is the state of the replica! Don't you want to know what happened to Axel?"

Saïx sighed and said, "Think, Zexion. Why would Axel do something like that? Does he not know the consequences for such a deed?"

Returning to what Axel had said, Zexion replied, "He said that I knew too much." He was becoming frustrated with Saïx's insolence. Did Saïx not see the state he was in?

"I see," Saïx repeated with a cutting edge. As he spoke, Zexion felt an unmistakable dark aura surrounding Saïx. "And I have to say that I agree. You are in our way."

It was if his entire body had completely frozen over. "Our way?" he whispered.

Saïx's long, cobalt hair stood on end. His eyes began to glow as he inhaled deeply while his smile grew wider as his entire face scrunched, as if to allow it room. He stared at Zexion, unblinking, with that unsettling smile never leaving his face as he summoned his claymore.

Zexion gripped the closest headstone and slowly rose to his feet. "What are you-"

Saïx roared as his claymore stuck Zexion across the chest. He screamed, having no opportunity to block it and was thrown like a doll across the room. Zexion smashed hard into something and felt it crack behind his back. He cried out in pain as he lay helplessly against whatever he had hit. He looked back and saw it was a headstone.

His headstone.

Saïx approached him. Zexion furiously reached into his cloak for his lexicon. Saïx caught the movement and smashed Zexion's hand, snapping his wrist and throwing the book beyond his reach. Zexion howled and cradled his broken wrist. He could not move nor could he summon any strength to form an illusion to hide him. There would be no escape. No one in the Organization was coming to save him and the replica would not appear again to help. Zexion turned his head up to his assailant. There was no pity in those eyes.

Saïx snarled and raised his claymore. "Where is the replica?"

"W-what?" gasped Zexion. His gaze darted between the claymore clutched above him and Saïx's furious eyes.

"TELL ME WHERE IT IS?!"

Zexion's breath hitched. He had been able to sense in those few, fleeting moments where it was headed. He knew the world well enough, as did Saïx. However, he could offer more than that. In those agonizing moments in which the replica had attempted to drain his life it had unwittingly taken something else from him as well. It was something that would, provided the replica had the intelligence and skills to utilize it properly, make it much more difficult to find. Zexion opened his mouth to reveal its location. But before the words could leave him, he stopped.

The Organization had failed and betrayed him. It was the replica who had saved his life and now shared his gifts. The rage in Saïx's eyes was proof enough that merely giving the information he sought would not be enough to spare him.

"The moon is full tonight, isn't it, Saïx? Interesting that you can experience such lunacy… a loss of control from something so simple." Zexion smirked despite the unbearable pain and flipped the hair away from his eye to face Saïx directly. "Your reign is slipping. And though I won't be the one to cause your downfall, I have guaranteed that it is inevitable."

Saïx roared and slammed his claymore across Zexion's chest once more. He had lost the ability to scream. His headstone shattered as Zexion was thrust through it. Zexion lay on his back with shards of the broken stone underneath him. The ceiling became blurred as if he were underwater. Above him Saïx appeared.

"Where is it?" Saïx whispered in a disturbingly even tone. He raised the claymore above Zexion, letting it hang directly above where his heart would have been.

"You'll never find him," Zexion spat. "But he will find you!"

Saïx laughed and plunged his claymore downward.

Notes:

I wanted to draw attention to the fact that, in his last lines, Zexion was the first person apart from Rep himself to call Rep 'he/him' rather than 'it'.

Also who else took years to realize that Riku in KH1 was wearing two pairs of pants?

I hope that everyone is okay with Rep's new name! Several years ago I was typing up the ending script to both parts of the original CoM for a friend and called Riku 'Riku' and his replica 'Rep' to make it easier. The name kind of stuck. When researching for this story, I came across a lot of other names like Repliku, Liku, Nisemono/Nise, but Rep has always been my favourite. If you like something else, I promise it will grow on you ;)

In the last chapter I mentioned that one of the character's major problems would be overcoming his cripplingly low self-esteem. As such, I tried to bring it up more so in this chapter to highlight the significance of the choice he makes. For instance, when in the field he starts to feel safe for the first time in his life. However, he doesn't understand what it's like to not feel angry or afraid for and extended period (even if it is only a few minutes), and as such starts feeling angry and afraid. He doesn't know why, but thinks that he should feel bad and therefore must be doing something wrong. Then he notices the grass and lets his curiosity take over him. For the first time in his life he starts just relaxing and playing, like the child he never was. But again, the moment he realizes that he's enjoying himself, he becomes ashamed. He has no idea why he feels bad, or even that he's forcing it on to himself, he just knows that he does. The other time that he technically has fun is when he starts skating on the shield, but that is in the middle of battle so he doesn't have time to reflect on it and tell himself it's wrong.

Giving himself a name was his first big step, which is why I wanted it to happen in the crossroads. Also note that Rep doesn't take a specific path - instead he uses a portal at their centre.

Notes regarding Zexion's narration: I tried to write it in a different style than Rep's voice to reflect the focal character's personality. Also, Zexion mentions something about the 'temporal difference between worlds'. While this might look like a cheap cop-out way for me to let Zexion give some insight into what happened in the final sentence of Rep's narration (basically jumping into a portal with absolutely no protective garments while there are not one but two people waiting for him to do something dumb like that was probably a bad idea), and to be fair it sort of was, it also brings up an important point. In my opinion it is pretty much canon that the worlds flow through time at different rates - otherwise some of those princesses would look a lot older, yet Hercules ages normally. This will be a small but overarching plot point, but I won't go into it too much now.

Aaaand Zexion basically explained how Rep turned invisible before. Did anyone guess that? A big part of Rep's journey will be figuring out how to use his new abilities.

Please leave a review if you're enjoying the story so far... or if you want to yell at me about Zexion ;)

(Booo the site keeps messing up my formatting! Oh well!)