On what was to be Organization XIII's last desperate night, a great battle raged within the Hall of Empty Melodies. Spacious and silent as the name implied, the Hall was shaken to its foundations by Xigbar's last stand against Sora, Donald and Goofy. The Freeshooter, despite his mastery of the intricacies of space, folded under the assault of the Keybladers after a valiant struggle.

During this heroic altercation, thousands of bullets of concentrated nothingness were fired from Xigbar's trusty arrowguns; most impacted the invincible walls of the Castle that Never Was, and several more were to scar Sora and company. The rest were deflected back to injure Xigbar; much to his chagrin, Sora had apparently picked up the basics of teleportation in his travels across the worlds.

Three in particular would possess a greater destiny. Halfway through the fight, Xigbar collapsed all but the center section of the Hall's floor, and opened fire on the trapped Keybladers. Of the several hundred bullets involved, these three were returned by Sora. Xigbar teleported immediately thereafter, giving the red, softly glowing projectiles a clear path across the room. This path would lead them at a seventy-degree angle with the sharply reduced floor, through the massive windows that overlooked the balcony.

On the bullets would fly, as their master was beaten to death in the hall they had left behind; through the still, windless air of the World That Never Was, past the innumerable ivory towers of the Castle, until they reached their unusual destinations:

The ace of hearts, the ten of spades, and the seven of clubs.

---

High atop the precariously constructed balcony known as Havoc's Divide, a lone, black-cloaked figure stalked back and forth, muttering to himself. This was Luxord, the Gambler of Fate, and currently one of the four surviving members of Organization XIII.


"And bloody proud of it, if I do say so myself."

The blond, goateed Nobody paused in his pacing, about-facing and gazing down across the sea of white, nothing-forged metal that comprised the Castle's walls and towers. Three tiny red blurs sped directly toward him.

"Ah, right on schedule."

With this thought, the progress of the bullets seemed to slow tremendously, until their flight was merely a leisurely cruise upward. This was only from Luxord's perspective, of course; the projectiles moved as they normally would. But the increased reaction time granted to Luxord gave him ample opportunity to snap his fingers, summon three cards, and throw them spinning at Xigbar's bullets. Luxord's perspective sped up to a normal rate, and he watched, satisfied, as the weapons met in midair. Three flashes of red and gray caused muted pink light to play across the surface of the Castle, and immediately dissipated, as if they had never occurred. Luxord nodded, wasting little time with the clipped motion and allowing himself a smirk before he resumed his pacing.

Counterintuitive as it might seem, Luxord believed in making every second count. The loss of his heart had, after all, instilled in him an infallible sense of the passage of time. Every hour, every minute, every second passed through Luxord like a flowing river before his eyes, filling him with a colossal awareness of the impermanence of all things. With a mere glance at any given object – a boulder, a person, a flower – Luxord could know its entire life. His attunement to the endless march of time showed him how the relentless pace of eternity had made things what they were – altered them and worn them down – and what changes, if left undisturbed, were yet to come.

The fact that he himself was unaffected by the passage of time, of course, drove Luxord absolutely mad.

"Ah, the ever-present tradeoff. There are two sides to everything, aren't there?" thought Luxord with a rueful smile. Organization XIII's Number X occupied himself with this reflection as he strode to the edge of Havoc's Divide. He stood on the razor's edge of doom, the front halves of his boots hanging over the side of the balcony as he gazed out across the neon-and-ebony vista of the Dark City.

More and more Luxord was reminded of his own insignificance – a facet of his nonexistence which was, in truth, more irritating than depressing of late. It had to be, or Luxord might be tempted to take a step beyond the balcony's edge.

He rolled his eyes, turning on his heel and striding along the precipice. "Now, what would be the point of that?" he thought, ruefully watching the explosions of color, magic, and darkness through the distant windows of the Hall of Empty Melodies. "I'm not a part of this…existence, for lack of a better word. It's an inherent quality of a Nobody, so there's little sense in fighting it."

Ironically, Luxord found, being a Nobody – and subject to his current state's attendant sense of detachment and emptiness – was a perfect counter to any existential crises he might have had. True, it was almost maddening to not fully exist – to see the worlds change and thrive around oneself and stand there, a rock in a sea of endless possibilities, untouched by any of it. Not aging, not dying, not possessing the capability to enjoy a sunrise or mourn the death of a friend.

But it was that same emotionless state of being ("Nonbeing, rather.") that kept the emptiness from gnawing away overmuch at one's mind. Just as a Nobody hung between the light and the darkness, so too did Luxord straddle the fence between total insanity and complete tranquility.

Then again, the natural practicality with which Luxord viewed his situation inevitably provided him with an ever-present question:

"Now what?"

That was why he had joined the Organization in the first place: to search for answers.

"For example," reflected Luxord, coming to rest on a corner of Havoc's Divide, "how am I to reclaim my heart? Will the Organization help anything?" And, most importantly, "How do I occupy myself until then?"

The infinite reaches of the World That Never Was served as a haunting reminder of the disappointing answers to Luxord's questions. For like it or not, Luxord had spent the better part of his years as a Nobody wasting his time pursuing the answer to the first question. "Not to hear Xemnas tell it, of course. But what did he ever care?"

Ever since the fall of Castle Oblivion over a year ago, Luxord had had doubts about the Superior's priorities. True, the elimination of Marluxia and Larxene had been necessary; contrary to Vexen's beliefs, Marluxia and Larxene posed a serious threat to the Organization and thereby the operatives' reclamation of their hearts. Rank had nothing to do with power.

"I'm living proof of that, aren't I? Number X, and yet here I am, one of the last four survivors." But the weeding out of the traitorous elements had come at a great cost to the Organization; three of its loyal operatives, Vexen, Lexaueus, and Zexion, had been killed in the counterrevolution.

Far below, the light show in the Hall of Empty Melodies slowed and died down. Luxord could just see the darkness that was once Xigbar losing cohesion and disappearing, leaving nothing behind to suggest that a Nobody had once walked, fought, and died there. His lips twisted into an expression that could be very loosely defined as a smile. "Make that three survivors."

If Luxord were to answer his second question right now, using only the information at hand, it would be all too easy to say that his time with Organization XIII had been the worst choice on the road to his heart. Ever since Sora had awakened, Xemnas had been focused more and more on that insufferably silly Kingdom Hearts of his. "It's as if he's been collecting every heart other than ours. At this point I might as well let him finish, then go out and pick mine up off the ground. Empty-headed old mad scientist."

The massive, heart-shaped moon in the sky gazed disapprovingly down at Luxord as if to chastise him for his moment of dissenting thought – a constant reminder of his failure to see any of this coming. Luxord sat down on the corner of the balcony, returning an icy, exasperated glare of his own. Then he closed his eyes, feeling through the corridors of time to determine Sora's next course of action. Through a haze of uncertainty that sharpened with Sora's every step, Luxord saw that the boy was, of course, racing to ascend Naught's Skyway.

"Which gives me a few minutes for introspection. Well, waste not, want not."

Luxord's connection to time gave him a limited power to predict the future – but only based on the subject's likely actions. Sora could change direction any number of times, of course, but Luxord didn't bother to take into account those alternate outcomes. "I know where he'll be headed if he gets to the Proof of Existence. My time may be short, and I'd best make the most of it."

With this in mind, Luxord laid back, folding his arms behind his head and staring up at the moon. Briefly thinking that Saïx must be doing the same, he recalled his conversation with Xemnas yesterday morning (as well as morning could be defined in the eternal night of the World That Never Was):

---

Luxord had stopped in the Proof of Existence after a chat with Xigbar, in which he had offered to join forces against Sora should he make it to the castle. "Nah," Number II had respectfully declined, "I can handle him. I mean, I'm ranged, he isn't. I teleport, he doesn't. And seriously, at this point we don't know if we're getting our hearts back anyway. What have I got to lose?"

Luxord pondered that very question as he looked over his marker in the Proof of Existence, which recently had been converted to a portal to his quarters: Havoc's Divide, the great clock tower on the Castle's extreme edge. He remembered Axel's flight from the Castle, how he had laughed as he rained razor-sharp cards down on the fleeing Number VIII. It was a reminder of just how far he had come with the Organization, despite his misgivings about Xemnas's intentions. Whether he liked it or not, Organization XIII had become the one certainty in his disrupted existence. For that, Xemnas had at least his grudging gratitude.

He also remembered his little adventure in Port Royal – how he had left most of the work to the Grim Reaper, that Heartless maelstrom of avarice, while he spent his free time cleaning out the island colony's gambling dens. Which brought him back to the Organization once more, and how he had been forced to take his games of chance underground after Xemnas discovered him with half of the Intangible Treasury in his possession.

Beneath the quest for his heart, Luxord found that there was always an undercurrent of diversion – a desire to at least attempt to enjoy his nonexistence for as long as it lasted. Perhaps that was why he was who he was. Life's little games gave his situation meaning, however fleeting. And with time literally on his side, Luxord sought to minimize the headache of failing to exist. A man in his position, with unparalleled skill at gambling and having already lost his heart, would be faced with the same question Xigbar had posed: "What have I got to lose?"

"What, indeed," thought Luxord, summoning a portal of darkness. Seconds later, he had emerged in the Altar of Naught, the summit of the Castle's highest tower, to test this question and do the impossible: complain to the Superior.

Xemnas was, of course, in the same place he always was from morning until night. He stood gazing at the moon, watching it hungrily consume the hearts that rose to join it from all over the Dark City – from all over the universe. He was not in a mood to be disturbed.

Luxord, of course, couldn't have cared less. "Enjoying yourself?" he called across the Altar, with more than a hint of derision in his voice. Xemnas didn't turn around, didn't even move. "If that were possible, Luxord, I assure you I would be. State your business."

Smirking, Luxord complied. "I had an inquiry pertaining to our ultimate goal, actually. As we're in a position to conquer Twilight Town and the bordering worlds, I'd venture that the Organization has accomplished much indeed." He waited a second; when Xemnas didn't respond, he continued. "So I believe I am totally justified in asking how close we are to reclaiming our hearts."

Total silence from Xemnas.

"I mean, that is the original purpose of the Organization, is it not? Or have we moved on to greater things?" At this, Xemnas did turn his head, just enough to fix Luxord with a steel glare.

"What have I got to lose?" Luxord indicated Kingdom Hearts, making his most dangerous move yet. "Far be it from me, of course, to criticize the Superior if he feels stargazing is the best use of our infinite resources."

Luxord couldn't tell, but he thought he saw the slightest hint of a snarl contort Xemnas's usually impassive face. Whatever it was, Xemnas's next words quickly drove it from his mind.

"In my thoughts I have seen a new order for the worlds. It is an order greater than any before or existing, greater than any individual," (Xemnas emphasized this last word) "or his petty pursuits. You would do well, Number X, to make sure you have a part in it." Xemnas returned to his original position, and spoke once more. "You will return to your quarters. I have nothing more to say to you."

Luxord stood still for a moment, saying nothing and considering what he had just heard. From what little Xemnas had said, it was clear that he was in his own world; even clearer that he wasn't open to debate. Luxord scoffed, twitched a finger, and stepped backwards through the ensuing portal.

The shock at stepping back into Havoc's Divide nearly sent him tumbling back through. The clock tower was gone, hundreds of feet of nothing-forged tower vanished into thin air. After recovering from the initial surprise, Luxord spat on the ground in annoyance and defeat. "Xemnas created this world. It makes sense that he could do the opposite." If Luxord had a place in the new order, it was going to have to involve sleeping on the floor.

Needless to say, he got the message.

---

Times such as these would have sent Luxord immediately to the Gray Area, Organization XIII's spacious lounge, or to the Black Hole, his own personal casino for when the Superior was in a particularly watchful mood. To lose his entire quarters, to be deprived of yet another bastion of stability, to be told once more that he was nothing more than a shadow of what really mattered in the universe; such rebukes could only be countered by another pot won in a game of poker, another blackjack, snake eyes staring into his opponents' stunned faces as he smugly collected their earnings.

Victory was a refreshing commodity in an existence (such as it was) of endless defeat. Constant despair at the deprivation of his heart could never be fully negated, no matter how much munny he happened to find himself in command of. But Luxord would take it, damn it; if he couldn't enjoy the little things, what could he possibly have to live for? He wasn't one for combat; despite the small pleasure he had taken in chasing Axel down the Silent Highway, the thrill of the fight just wasn't his chosen method of entertainment.

A thought rose from the back of his mind: an alert, informing him of a new development. His reverie was interrupted by an announcement of Sora's presence in the time stream, in the castle, as the Keyblade Master entered the graveyard that was the Proof of Existence.

"Well, martial engagements seemed to suit Xigbar, Xaldin and Lexaeus just fine. At this point, I'll have to make do." Luxord stood, casting a glance at the entrance to Havoc's Divide. He calculated about twenty-five seconds to act. "Three to disappear, twenty to lie in wait, two to get the drop on him," thought Luxord, disappearing into a portal and emerging on a ledge high above the balcony to look down on the soon-to-be battlefield. Sure enough, the entrance came to life with a swirl of blue light, illuminating Sora and company as they emerged. As the light died down, the band of warriors looked into the sky, at the great moon that dominated the night. A small beam was drilling into it from some unknown tower in the castle. "So Ansem the Wise is already at work," noted Luxord. "Should ruffle the Superior's feathers, at the very least."

The Keybladers talked amongst themselves for a handful of seconds, then turned to leave, apparently believing this to be a dead end. Luxord chose this moment to act, teleporting back down to Havoc's Divide behind the retreating heroes. It couldn't have started off better - in the time it took the completely surprised Sora to turn around, Luxord could have had a fistful of cards in his back like shuriken. "But why squander my moment of glory?" he decided.

Fixing Sora with a triumphant smirk, Luxord snapped his fingers. Before the sound had died away, ten massive cards appeared from nowhere, surrounding Sora's helpless friends. As they spun in a deadly circle around the group, Luxord glimpsed flashes of Kairi's panicked face, Riku's indignation, Donald and Goofy's shock. "Icing on the proverbial cake," he thought with wicked pleasure, snapping his fingers once more. The cards ceased their spinning, flying off in two regimented lines before dissolving into the castle walls. "One on one, young man. House rules." The rest of them could rot in one of Luxord's time bubbles, fighting endless waves of Gambler Nobodies.

Sora, surprisingly, did not ask what had happened to his companions; clearly, his battle instincts had been honed by months of near-constant warfare. "You!" he cried, summoning his Keyblade.

Luxord was well within his rights to enjoy this a little more - disappear a few more times, let Sora tire himself out, maybe taunt him a bit. But he was a gambler, after all - hungry for the next big win. Besides, it had been too long since he had had a serious opponent. "Why delay it any longer?" Luxord's arrogant expression mirrored his feelings, as did his response: "I'd rather we just skip the formalities."

---

And so were they skipped. Sora unleashed a war cry as he rushed his opponent, and Luxord let him approach. Mid-stride, however, Sora stopped. It had only taken a thought from Luxord, master of time and its relentless pace. An idea had struck him, and he wasn't about to let it go to waste. In half a second, Luxord mentally delved into Sora's life force and his own essence, and wove them into the threads of time. From this point onward, until the battle ended, they would be constantly under attack by time itself; each had three minutes to eliminate the other, or die instantly.

It was a foolish gamble, and Luxord knew this well. But it was also the single greatest thrill Luxord had yet encountered. "What more can you gamble with than your very life?" Looking into the future, however, had revealed two possibilities. In each, one combatant was victorious, and the other dead. "It's all in fun, I suppose," reasoned Luxord. "If I win, I enjoy it as much as possible. If not..." Luxord's moment of doubt was fleeting. "Then I die as I lived: wringing as much excitment out of this pitiful nonexistence as possible."

Luxord unfroze Sora mere seconds after stopping him in his tracks. Sora nearly stumbled and fell, but regained his balance quickly and stood his ground, Keyblade at the ready for any more tricks. Luxord kept his smirk, and merely stated "The first to run out of time is the loser." Sora looked confused for only a moment, and a moment was all Luxord needed. Before Sora could shake it off and attack properly, Luxord struck first. With a wave of a hand, Sora collapsed, melting into a large cube shape: a die, Sora's shocked face on the "1" side.

"All too easy," Luxord thought, sweeping his hand in a broad arc and sending the Sora-die flying across Havoc's Divide. With a snap of his fingers, five cards flew after his victim, circling, diving, and slicing at every opportunity. Sora desperately tried to roll away from the relentless cards, and for a heart-stopping moment teetered on the edge of the balcony. The Dark City waited eagerly below to claim its helpless prize, and Luxord was struck with a pang of regret that this had passed so quickly.

Suddenly, the situation reversed itself. With surprising agility for a die, Sora tilted up onto a corner and spun, knocking the cards back and causing them to dissolve into nothingness. Before Luxord could cry out in protest, Sora launched himself at him, catching him full in the face and sending him stumbling back. Stars and hearts danced at the edge of Luxord's vision, and he tasted blood. Teleporting away, Luxord shook the dizziness from his head, spit out two teeth, and scoffed. "A challenge, is it?" "Very well, a challenge you shall have."

A snap of the fingers reverted Sora to his human form; after the boy regained his footing, he charged at Luxord, Keyblade extended. Luxord met his opponent with three cards as big as he was, striding confidently forth as they blocked Sora's attacks and slashed savagely back at him. It gave Luxord time to plan his next move. Sora leaped into the air, bringing his Keyblade down and chopping a card in half; another slash brought down a second card. Luxord brought the third one around to use as a shield; when the Keyblade pierced that, Luxord backflipped, and with a gesture froze Sora once more. Four cards appeared behind Luxord - three marked with an X, one with an O. Sora regained his freedom of movement just in time for them to begin cycling quickly from left to right. Luxord grinned maliciously. "Do you know the rules?" he taunted.

Thirty seconds had passed since the beginning of the fight; in the three seconds that the game lasted, Luxord had time to deceive himself with assumptions of victory. "Game in hand. I am the Gambler of Fate, after all." But barely a second after he thought this, Sora threw his Keyblade past him, striking a card. A burst of energy struck Luxord in the back, sending him stumbling forward and thoroughly catching him off guard. "He chose correctly? Impossible! It's my game, and-" But his furious thoughts were interrupted with a flurry of Keyblade strikes, against which he had no time for defense. Luxord was forced to give ground, backstepping as the Keyblade attacked his arms, his left leg, his head. He only managed to teleport away after one of Sora's slashes ripped the piercings from his right ear; his anguished scream filled the spaces between the worlds before he reemerged on Havoc's Divide.

"Foolish! Chance favors no one - it's all a matter of hedging one's bets." Luxord chastised himself for his hubris, as a pair of dice materialized in his hand. He threw them at the oncoming Sora, catching him in mid-leap and likely bruising a couple of ribs. Sora collapsed to the ground, and Luxord was ready for him. Again, a flurry of cards surrounded Sora, a hundred X's and a single O swirling in the air around him, occasionally darting in for a slash or two. Luxord watched with sadistic pleasure, as the boy searched desperately for the game-winning card. Luxord had indeed hedged his bets, and it wasn't long before he decided to hedge them a little more.

Time warped in the storm of cards, and Sora's movements slowed to half speed, as the cards gained velocity and cut him ever faster and ever deeper. A Cure spell prolonged Sora's fight, but couldn't keep the blood from flowing. As Luxord advanced on the weakening Keyblade master, ready to reach through the cards and personally snap his neck, Sora suddenly sped up.

Luxord took a shocked step back, and watched the scene unfold over the next few seconds. He didn't know how it happened, and never would know for sure; but with a swipe of the Keyblade and a flash of light, it was Sora moving twice as quickly as the cards. The manipulation of time reversed itself, and Luxord had little opportunity to react. "Turn my attribute against me, will he?" thought Luxord, suddenly angry. He summoned a pair of massive cards, and raised them to slice Sora's dome of cards apart. No sooner had the cards appeared, however, than Sora snatched one from the hundred and one surrounding him. Luxord had a split second to see the design on it: a red O.

"How can he keep winning? He cheats!" Luxord's ire faded into panic, as Sora threw the card at him, striking him directly in the chest. Luxord felt the energy in the card radiate through his torso, fracturing his ribcage as cracks raced along his bones from the point of impact. Luxord had no choice but to duck, as he collapsed to avoid Sora's next attack. He coughed up blood as he rolled to the side, desperately evading the line of fire as his bones slowly reformed. He could see the red standing out starkly against the castle's ivory floor, already turning black and evaporating into darkness. It was a grim reminder of his fate if he continued on his current course.

"Ninety seconds in, and he's beating me at my own games!" Luxord's mind raced wildly along this grim line of thinking, as he stood shakily to meet Sora's relentless assault. "It's as if time itself is destroying me, the way this boy keeps coming!" Despite Luxord's power over time, the only benefit he currently possessed because of it was a vision of the likeliest future. Even that was no blessing; as Luxord frantically raised cards in his defense and countered where he could, an image of Sora standing triumphant as he himself faded was growing ever sharper in his thoughts. Something had to be done, and Luxord knew he would have to step up his game if he wanted to change his fate.

With a roar of outrage, Luxord slowed Sora's movements, grabbing him in midair and resorting to a good old-fashioned right hook to the face. He felt Sora's nose break, relishing his enemy's cry of pain and the wetness of blood on his gloves. Luxord threw Sora to the ground, bringing a foot down on his neck. "Fold, you insufferable scoundrel! FOLD!" Luxord increased the pressure on Sora's neck, blocking several Keyblade strikes with a summoned handful of cards. "It's not often I use such methods," Luxord reflected. "No wonder the others don't play fair." Luxord raised his foot to crush Sora beneath his boot once and for all. "Look who's on top of the game!" he laughed bitterly.

Sora was unmoved. With a sudden lunge, he grabbed Luxord's ankle, pulling himself up to a standing position. "All in, Luxord!" he cried, and jerked his hand to the side. With strength he didn't even know he had, Sora snapped Luxord's ankle, sending the Nobody into a world of pain.

Luxord's scream echoed off the walls of the Castle and across the Dark City as Sora let go of his ankle and kicked him in the back of the knee. Wrapped in a shroud of rage and agony, Luxord swept his good leg under Sora's feet, but Sora leaped aside and rushed him with his Keyblade. Barely conscious and still wracked with searing pain from his slow-healing ankle, Luxord teleported again to the other side of the balcony. Sora came to a stop at the opposite edge, and turned to face his opponent. Eyes filled with murder, Luxord forced himself to stand, his ankle fighting him every step of the way. "You play the game well," Luxord spat, his eyes burning. "I'll be damned if I die on my knees, at the hands of this-" Sora's sudden charge chased this thought from his mind, and Luxord instinctively raised a protective ring of cards. "This should buy me some time - after all, there's still fifteen sec-"

SLASH.

Sora's keyblade paid no attention to plans or to fairness, carving through the cards like a hot knife through butter. Luxord suddenly lost all feeling in his lower body, but barely managed to keep it attached as his would-be shield disappeared into nothingness. The sudden push to the brink of death was too much for Luxord's powers, and the greater Nobody collapsed in a swirl of darkness.

Defeated seconds before the game's end, Luxord allowed himself a moment of incredulous thought. "He fights just like one of us. He really is Number XIII's Other..." Luxord felt his cut start to reopen as he failed to prevent his vivisection. His agony was an endless well of fuel for his fury - at defeat, at humiliation, at consignment to the nothingness. "How could you...Roxas..."

"That's SORA!" Sora's indignant retort was yet another reminder of just how wrong Luxord had been. Wrong in thinking he had mastered fate, wrong in trying to retain meaning in his fruitless nonexistence, and wrong in ever starting this fight.

As darkness poured from every inch of his body, consuming it as lava would consume rock, Luxord summed up his entire life in a simple, age-old phrase:

"You win some. You lose some."

---

I know. I made a grievous error in leaving you guys hanging for a month after I promised Luxord would die by Halloween. But if you had been as busy as I have been lately, you'd understand. You'd still be entitled to rip my heart out and feed it to Dusks, but you'd understand.
Anyway. I plan to have a FAR better update schedule, and I hope to have at least "Flower" posted by the end of the year. But given my current track record, you can take that with a grain of salt. Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate it, and keep on reading and reviewing!

Especially reviewing. Christmas is coming, and that's an author's favorite gift. Other than cash.

Love and thanks to all the readers,

Zellarius Burvenia