The news travelled quickly. Saix informed the remaining members of the Organization as he checked up on them on his rounds. None of them took it quite the same way as the blond man with the bronzed skin and many silver earrings. Whilst most of them said it was a shame, or whatever, Luxord said nothing. He was back at that world in Demyx's stead, and had just finished searching for the Grim Reaper.

"Luxord…" muttered the shorter of the two hooded nobodies.

"Saix." Responded the other, giving nothing away.

"Demyx has perished at the hands of the Keyblade Bearer at…" but the taller man was walking into a portal, and onto the beach. Saix let him go.

He teleported to a hidden Island, Isla De Muerta. There was a tool here that might help him... There they were: in a cavern with a gaping hole in the roof, through which moonlight poured, bathing a chest gleaming with gold in a silvery light.

He headed forward, to take the chest, but someone else, in the world's native clothes, was already there. He cleared my throat, as his long strides took him to the other, and he turned around and backed away, as the hooded man closed in. He drew a pair of very large playing cards in response to the other man's sword being drawn.

The filthy man, with his long wet brown hair and grubby clothing, laughed, but for less than a second. He was weak: with a slight twirl, I swung one round face onto him. The joker of the deck ignored air resistance, and as it made contact, he fell into the picture. His face took shock, and he moved around his two-dimensional one by one third meter realm, trying to push his way out, to no avail. He picked him up, laughing cruelly.

This was the only thing that made him feel even a little better after my bad news. And relishing in it, he picked up the card in one hand, and two of his miraculously appearing Gamblers lifted the heavy chest of the medallions, and carried it outside. They quickly headed through the narrow tunnel, with its holes showing off a healthy amount of moonlight.

Outside, he saw the man's just off the coast, accessible only by the tiny rowing boa tethered to a miniature pier. With a snap of his fingers, more nobodies, dusks and creepers too, this time, manifested all over it, and giving them a moment to buckle under my attack, teleported to it myself. There were some people who'd jumped overboard with some massive splashes, and one or two corpses, even, on the deck, but a healthy portion was still alive, and battling his force. They all jumped at his sudden appearance, and as he held up the card, they all shouted "Mr Turner!" and "Will" out.

"If you wish to end up like this man: continue to fight. If otherwise, jump overboard now." The hooded man called. They didn't need telling twice, and most simply legged it. The few remaining were simply struck down by the sheer pressure of the small army, and the rest were thrown overboard by dusks. The card's captive, he needed, though, was spared.

He left it on the rail of the ship, and allowed Will – as he'd learned his name as -to return to his old form, but he wasn't looking well, and couldn't move, even once freed. He didn't care anymore. He'd seen the Keyblade Bearer board the pirate ship, but it would be constantly moving, and might easily miss it by teleport. With a ship like this, however, he might easily attract the young boy's company, but needed to sail it first.

In his time at Castle Oblivion, Luxord had learned how to read both hearts and memories. Closing his eyes, he focused in on the memories of the injured man. His childhood, mysteriously appearing on the ship was uninteresting, but later on, as he began to sail one, he slowly concentrated on the remembered thoughts, and summed up what was on the boat, how it was used, and what it did once used, too. The nobodies took stations around the ship, and prepared it for sail, hoisting anchor and other piles of whatnot. Next, I checked his heart…

Someone was searching for him. A young woman, named Elizabeth Swann, with whom he'd spent his childhood, and was in love with, was coming straight to the Isla de Muerta to rescue him. Sweet, but not what the tenth member of Organization XIII was interested in. But then, the name of the pirate ship became apparent in the thoughts: Black Pearl. The Keyblade Bearer's ship. The nobodies were ordered to sail in the direction of the pining heart, and soon, after a near miss with a minute island with bits of rock, they were within range. However, the cannons on the Interceptor were not up to those of the Black Pearl. Mr Will Turner's memory told him so.

How convenient that he'd found the Grim Reaper, then. As the ships pulled next to each other, he hid in one of the cabins, and summoned a portal for when the time was right. Listening out for them helping the wounded man back onto their boat he stepped into it, and materialized on the deck of the ship, taking the chest of medallions with him.

"Don't remember inviting you." If the Gambler of Fate had thought Will (being helped into the storeroom by the woman) was dirty, this pirate was indeed more than something else. The Keyblade Bearer, and the two ugly morons accompanying him looked at the hooded figure with utter distaste.

"So it was the Organization!" said the boy, glaring at me. I chose to ignore their banter.

"The Darkness of men's hearts - drawn to these cursed medallions; and this Heartless - a veritable maelstrom of avarice:" Off the boat, the Grim Reaper appeared from the waters, swinging its axe menacingly at the pirates. "I wonder, are they worthy to serve Organization XIII?" he asked rhetorically, meaning that there was indeed going to be a fight. The filthy pirate responded, asking whether they had to, but he insisted that they needed to.

As was the plan, the Grim Reaper was brought down quickly, by the combined efforts of the Keyblade, a goon's shield and the other's magic, and the pirate's revolver, and it sank to the waters again. However, immediately after its defeat, he called "Parley!" and they were forced to bargain with him. How useful scanning the memories had been.

They bargained over the medallions, but Luxord, with his hood now drawn back, finished negotiations.

"I just want a few... for the memories!" A couple of Gamblers jumped aboard, and pinched medallions, and five were taken, one dropping one into the oceans. As the Grim Reaper, having caught it, rose from the salty depths once more, and blasted them onto the Interceptor with a gust of powerful wind. The nobodies changed ships rapidly, and moved to the below-deck on the Pearl. Instantly, Luxord cried "FIRE!" relishing in his revenge. He sent the nobodies with medallions to lounge around the islands, and the Grim Reaper to the port, and with that, returned to the World That Never Was.