Chapter Text
Despite everything, despite Ventus being back and being there and present, not much changed besides the fact of having a full thirteen Nobodies in the Organization. Rather, Roxas’ joining changed little besides the fact that Saïx now had the pleasure of adding babysitter to the roulette of daily tasks within the Organization, much to the others’ chagrin.
Especially Axel. Saïx seemed especially sadistic in assigning him to join Roxas on his missions in addition to him already being assigned to show him the ropes of nonexistence, and Xemnas saw no better use for him at the moment.
Of course, Axel and Saïx’s scheming was less subtle than they thought, although less eye-rollingly obvious than Marluxia’s impending treachery.
“Superior,” he said, addressing Xemnas with biting sarcasm dripping from the title.
“Number XI,” Xemnas responded with equal disrespect in his voice, gloved hands tightening ever-so-slightly on the armrests of his throne. Marluxia was a continuous thorn in his side, only worth keeping around for his strategic mind (when he saw fit to actually help the Organization) and frankly astounding talent with his scythe. Sometimes, he idly considered sharing his insight with him; after all, it worked with Saïx.
Marluxia would only be more of an asset to them if he succeeded, but it could backfire and only cement his resolve in overthrowing him. Ergo, Xemnas continued to entertain the idea that Marluxia assumed he didn’t know of his carefully planned revolt.
“I was assigned to Roxas today.” He crossed his arms, slight frown marring his angelic face. Had it not been for his cool cerulean stare, he would have seemed like a pouty child angry about naptime. “Have you not seen my requests for my experiment mission?”
“No.” Saïx had most definitely given them to him, pages and pages of hypothesis and potential experiments to test his ideas off-location. All eight versions of them, in fact. “Did Vexen approve them for submission?”
Marluxia glowered up at him. ”Yes,” he said tightly, “Vexen not only approved them, but noted interest in pursuing them himself if given approval from the Superior. So here I am.”
“Then persuade me to approve.” Xemnas shifted in his seat, resting his cheek on his palm with his head canted at an angle suggesting boredom. “How would you accomplish your goals, what would you research, and what resources would you need from the Organization?”
“If your lapdog bothered to do his job and pass relevant information to you, you’d know.” Marluxia had a pleasant smile on his face, a beautiful mask for the poison in his words. He tilted his head as well, mirroring Xemnas. “We would study the shape of memories and use that data to attempt to create physical replicas of those memories. The main goal would be to create alternate versions of key individuals if enough memories are sampled. As for resources...”
That grabbed Xemnas’ attention. “How would you accomplish this?”
“Hm?”
“How would you acquire these memories to sample?”
“Oh.” Something in his smile turned devilish. “We would use Naminé, of course.”
The witch.
“Is she skilled enough in her ability to carry out the mission?” His tone was disinterested, as if asking something as mundane as what time of day it was. As if something in his throat was suddenly hard to swallow, as if Xemnas wasn’t suddenly acutely aware of each tiny movement he made.
“She was created from a Princess of Heart, of course she’s capable.” Marluxia waved him away, self-assuredness oozing off him like a smug cat. “We would perform the experiment off-site, lure Riku to gather his data without the witch, then bring her in for the real test.”
“Who would join your team?”
“Vexen and Larxene.”
Vexen was an obvious pick, but... “Why Larxene?” Xemnas asked in that same dull tone. He’d rather perfected the art of feigning disinterest, all things considered.
“She would use her charms to lure our subjects of research, of course.”
His honey eyes narrowed. “She has no charm to speak of.”
That catlike expression never left Marluxia’s face, unintentionally antagonizing Xemnas all the more for it. Or maybe it was intentional. Saïx was more agitated than anyone about faking emotions, but that thing he hated to acknowledge deep inside him was glowering at XI.
He didn’t have emotions, none of them did without hearts, but something in his very being dictated how he should react emotionally to various stimuli. Right now, the emotional reaction demanded - and being consequently repressed, as had been the case for the past however many years - in response to Marluxia’s calm disrespect was anger.
“She’s more capable than you’d expect,” Marluxia replied, “I trust her to perform her job well.”
”If I see fit to approve your plan.” Xemnas’ voice rang clear and cold between them. “I expect a better explanation of exactly how smoothly this mission will go in further applications.” And with that, he was gone.
He had a lot to consider.
---
Xemnas was found gazing at Kingdom Hearts. Specks of light like distant stars flowed up to join the growing cluster of freed hearts, courtesy of Sora’s unwitting assistance to their cause. It was a point of solace in its own right; the Chamber of Repose was his escape into the past, the observatory deck of the castle was his glimpse into the future.
There’s a vague bit of deja vu in the way he stood gazing at the sky, that he understands unconsciously. He’d stood with others then, something in his hand dangling from a leather tie. He couldn’t quite recall what exactly it had been, but he knew it had been important at the time. He didn’t dwell on it.
Quiet, familiar footsteps approached without their owner announcing himself. There was no need to. “Did you read Marluxia’s reports?” Xemnas asked without prompt, without looking away from the glacially growing moon.
“I did,” Saïx replied, “All eight.”
“And your thoughts?”
Saïx was quiet for a heartbeat. “His idea is worth pursuing, but he barely bothered to hide his ulterior motives. He wouldn’t need Naminé with the resources we already have for data sampling.”
Xemnas turned to face him. Illuminated by the soft light of Kingdom Hearts, Saïx wore his uniform neutral expression that walked a narrow tightrope between stress and displeasure. “Agreed.”
The younger man didn’t say anything for a moment, studying his Superior’s face. “You can’t seriously be considering approving it,” he said, tone aghast. He even made a face, looking something between surprised and disappointed.
“It’s an interesting proposal,” Xemnas said. Not defensively, but his lips curled up into a quiet, traitorous smile before he added, “We only have everything to gain from it if I assign Axel to the mission as well.”
“You would assign Axel to a suicide mission.” It was said flatly, without emotion. Nothing in his face betrayed any semblance of the bond Xemnas knew had been shared with him.
“I would assign him to keep watch of Marluxia and to smother a revolt if necessary.” He straightened his already proper posture, clasping his hands behind his back out of habit. “He has a certain talent for acting, I’ve noticed.”
Something in Saïx’s expression tightens at that. “He certainly does,” he agreed, a twinge of bitterness escaping into his voice.
Perfect. Their sham of a friendship had been a steadily growing thorn in his side that only loomed more as a sleeping threat by the day. Assigning Axel to Roxas duty was easily the best decision he had made in recent memory, judging by the discord that had been sewn between him and Saïx.
Better yet, it was Saïx who had officially given that job to Axel.
It was high time for them to stop pretending to be friends, it was simply pathetic by that point. It had been ten years since Lea and Isa had died, and the relationship they had insisted on pretending still existed as Axel and Saïx was nothing more than a pale mimicry of what once was and never could be again.
“He or Xigbar would be a sleeper agent and prune certain insurrectionary members if needed,” Xemnas elaborated, “Both are qualified enough for the mission.”
“Superior, permission to be insubordinate?”
He gave him a long, feline look before giving a slow nod to continue. Speak, but watch yourself, it said.
Still. Years of familiarity and hard opinions left little barrier between Saïx and honest communication, if less than flowery.
“Xemnas, playing into Marluxia’s hand is stupid beyond belief. We’re all aware of what he means to do, and you’re really considering giving him what he wants because you trust Xigbar to do your dirty work for you,” he said it bluntly, painting his nascence plan with shades of reality. “And I say Xigbar because you really can’t mean that you’d send Axel on this and leave Roxas to his missions alone, and I refuse to be assigned to babysit the toddler you saw fit to allow into the Organization.”
“That toddler,” Xemnas shot back, eyes narrow, “Is Sora’s Nobody and shares the same power of releasing hearts as him.”
“And yet we have Kairi’s Nobody and you’d rather induct a practical zombie into the Organization than her,” Saïx practically hissed, “I don’t understand your fixation on Roxas when Naminé is fully capable of her own power and has the potential to wield a keyblade just as well as Roxas could. And you would send her with Marluxia?”
The eleventh member’s name hung between them after Saïx finished speaking, unspoken implication obvious.
“You raise good points,” Xemnas said after a heavy moment of dead air, “But the moon is influencing you.”
A hint of something - fear, maybe? - twinged in Saïx’s gilded eyes as they flicked to Kingdom Hearts behind him for a split second. “You truly believe Naminé has the potential to be a viable member?” Xemnas asked, more coaxing the conviction from the other man than anything.
“More than that,” Saïx responded firmly, “She would be more effective than half our current members if given real training.”
“If Marluxia’s assignment is approved, I’ll send Naminé along with him.”
Saïx opened his mouth to object.
“And when she returns after a successful mission, she will be officially inundated as a member of the Organization,” Xemnas finished.
“An entrance exam.” Saïx lightly rubbed his chin in thought. “She’s capable, but you want to see just how capable she is.”
“Precisely.”
An unexpected chill of wind gusted lightly in the World That Never Was, slithering through Saïx’s long hair as his attention was drawn once more to the moon. “It’ll be over soon.”
Xemnas turned partially, just enough to be able to see Kingdom Hearts. “Soon enough,” he agreed, honey eyes intent on the sky.
--
It was only logical, after both Saïx and Marluxia insisted so, that he gauge Naminé’s ability himself rather than rely on word of mouth and scattered reports.
Not to say that he was rushing to her for his mind to be meddled with; Xemnas wasn’t a fool. He had to be careful, very careful, in his own determining of the situation.
Naminé was an enigma, an outlier such as Roxas and himself. She was unlike any other Nobody they’d encountered, and was promptly welcomed to their midst when she was discovered. Not as a member, more of a curiosity. A puzzle to discover the solution to rather than truly completed.
Zexion looked surprised to see Xemnas thumbing through his reports in the archive, though seemed less concerned with their leader’s unannounced presence than what he was doing with his unannounced presence.
“I sincerely hope you’re going to put those back where you found them,” he commented as he passed by in the narrow walkway with a moderately sized stack of mission and research reports neatly filed into individual folders.
Xemnas didn’t acknowledge the snide remark, only turning the page on the synopsis of the extent of her abilities. Memory alteration during transcription via-
Zexion sighed conspicuously. “I know we don’t truly exist, but would it kill anyone around here to have some manners every once in a while to just say hi?” He squinted at the label on the partially destroyed folder he was holding, angling the sad-looking thing to try and discern what was seemingly scratched into the surface of it. “And would it kill Demyx to have neater writing?” he muttered under his breath, striding down the aisle to where the Kingdom of Corona’s data was stored.
Xemnas ignored him again. -only able to affect memories of those connected to Sora’s h-
“Superior, where did you get those from, in case you don’t think and leave them out?” Zexion peeped around him, trying to glimpse a paragraph for an idea. Despite his irritation with Marluxia for the same sort of barbed words earlier, he simply batted Zexion away without any real malice, like shooing a fly.
“What do you want, VI?” Xemnas finally asked, giving in and giving him a scrutinizing stare even a Nobody like Zexion shrunk a bit at. “I don’t recall assigning you to being a librarian.”
“I don’t recall you assigning much of anything lately,” he retorted, arms crossed like a child. “Ever since Roxas joined, it’s like dad’s been out of town and left mom and the stick up her ass in charge.”
His upper lip twitched at that. “You’ve been spending too much time with Xigbar.”
“Maybe so. Doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been doing a distinct lack of truly leading the Organization lately.” The teenager settled back, leaning against a cabinet. He eyed Xemnas, single visible eye as scathing as he imagined his own glare had been.
“And what have I been doing in place of leadership?” He cocked an eyebrow, only really half-interested in what he was saying.
Zexion’s look was positively withering. “Reminiscing.”
“Reminiscing,” Xemnas repeated flatly.
Zexion glanced furtively to the entrance, and upon seeing that they were still alone, spoke in a low voice. “I always a good memory,” he began, “I still do. And I’m fairly certain you remember what I do. Likely more.”
Once again, there was that sensation of ice in his veins. Xemnas’ heart thudded loud enough he was certain Zexion could hear it, caught in his throat. “And what makes you think that?” he asked, voice strangely even and unbothered despite being on red alert.
“I suspected for years,” he said nonchalantly, “But Roxas being here makes it obvious. To me, at least.”
Zexion glanced at the door again. “I have a good memory and I pay attention. I have to, if I want my illusions to be convincing. I’m certain I’m not fabricating seeing someone who looked very much like Roxas asking around for someone that fit what you looked like when you first joined us before everything. Tell me if I’m wrong.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Ventus, he said his name was.”
A traitorous breath caught in his throat at hearing the name spoken aloud by someone else.
A pitying half-smirk appeared on Zexion’s face. “He wouldn’t have said that,” Xemnas finally said, words tasting bitter.
“Huh?”
Something squeezed inside him and it ached. “He would have told you to call him Ven.”
Before Zexion could respond, the contours of his face were lit from beneath with a soft red glow and whatever he had intended to say was cut off by his sheer panic.
He had been there, years before, when Xemnas had branded Saïx. He hadn’t been fazed then, watching on over the scarification with all the interest of a child watching his parents talk with a friend they’d run into at the store. Something in both of them had changed since then; Xemnas was more paranoid over keeping his very near complete recollection of his past from the Organization, and Zexion had
“Nobody else knows!” His voice broke and pitched high in a distinctly un-Zexion way. He had always prided himself on his coolheaded maturity; growing up as a Nobody had made him cling to whatever he could gleam from others. His ability to remain as collected as possible in any situation was a point of pride in what little he could cling to from being Ienzo. Without it, he truly was without anything marking Ienzo as having existed in the first place. “Nobody suspects, and I haven’t told!”
“I doubt so.” Xemnas advanced, ethereal blades humming to the pulse of his internal compartmentalized panic.
“Okay, Xigbar suspects, but I ignore him every time he asks me about you!” He clung to the cabinet, practically on top of it. “I’ll be good, please don’t...!” he was practically wailing, and he looked as if he were on the verge of passing out from terror.
Xemnas paused, if only out of morbid curiosity. “What are you doing?” he asked, befuddled at the display before him.
“I... I...” he struggled to take a shuddering breath, breaking into a coughing fit instead.
“What are you doing?” he repeated, more authoritatively cold.
Zexion forced himself to breathe steadily, breaking into short, panicked breaths every few moments. “Please,” he warbled pathetically between breaths, unable to say any more. “Please.”
Reduce him to nothing, he’s a failure and will only reveal you, the cold, analytic side of him commanded.
His blades hummed what seemed impossibly loud, maybe some of that was blood rushing in his ears and he hesitated.
He’s just a kid who did nothing wrong, help him! another part urged, quieter but still present.
He saw Zexion and he remembered Ienzo. He remembered waking up in Ansem’s study for the first time with a youthful face staring him down while eating an ice cream bar. He remembered how he used to bite his nails when he was scared, how he would refuse to let anyone near his hair or that side of his face, the dimples that would show with each rare smile. He remembered the day he started speaking again, remembered comforting him during storms, remembered his adamant defense from Ansem’s harsh critiques. He remembered Ienzo’s last smile, bright and brave, on the day of the experiment and he wavered.
The blades vanished from his palms.
“VI.”
A semblance of normality seemed to have returned to Zexion, at least. He was able to breathe normally again, it appeared, but he still looked almost pained as he tried to calm himself. “Superior,” he said when he was able to look up at him. He flinched almost imperceptibly at the expression on his face. “With all due respect, you’re a fool.”
Xemnas was taken aback. “You call me a fool for sparing your life,” he said flatly. “After an unnecessary show of false emotions.”
He took another deep breath and swallowed before continuing. “You know as well as I do that these attacks are pathetic conditioned responses,” Zexion said bitterly, “Not just playing Somebody for a scrap of pity.”
“It’s been quite some time since your last attack,” he noted.
“It’s been quite some time since I’ve been scared for my life,” he shot back, razors embedded in his voice rough with residual anxiety.
They had a silent contest of wills, Zexion glaring down Xemnas in a way that reminds him of when Ven wanted to come with to-
“Perhaps I acted too rashly,” he said, cutting off that line of thought.
“‘Perhaps,’” he echoed, scoffing and shaking his head, “Not even a real apology after an attempted murder. I tell you, no one around here has any manners anymore.”
Behind his sarcasm, he was obviously still shaken from the incident. “Is it truly murder if you don’t truly exist?” Xemnas mused.
“The answer is yes, because I’m sentient and would rather be like this than not be at all.” Zexion slid off the cabinet and straightened his coat, doing his best to act as though nothing strange had happened. “I’ll recover. Not that it matters to you.”
The atmosphere was heavy, wary apprehension thick enough Roxas could cut it with his keyblade. Xemnas’ eyes slid from Zexion to the files he’d left spread on the desk next to him.
A witch with the power to manipulate memories of those connected with Sora’s heart.
“What does Xigbar know?” he asked idly.
“Not even going to acknowledge what I said. Ouch. That really hurts me where it matters.” Zexion patted his chest ironically.
“Only one thing truly matters to the Organization.”
“Are you talking about Roxas or Kingdom Hearts?” he snipped.
Xemnas gave him a caustic glare. “Roxas is the key to unlocking the potential of Kingdom Hearts.”
“I’m sure there’s some psychological profiles around here that could help you out with that,” Zexion retorted, though his expression seemed a bit hurt. Merely ridiculous overacting of course, trying to guilt him into admitting things he’d rather not. They both know neither can actually feel anything.
“I don’t need to study psychological texts to understand my place in the worlds,” he said, a warning hidden in the baritone of his voice. “And you don’t need to question what I deem important or myself.”
Zexion’s face pinched, looking like he wanted to snap back, but sighed in resignation. “Yes, Superior.”
“Did Vexen assign you to archive duty?”
“Yes.”
“Is this all the data we’ve collected on Naminé?” He stepped back, head tilted at the desk he’d abandoned.
Zexion’s eyes slid to the desk, brows knitting. “You’re here for her?” he asked, confused.
“Evidently.”
His coat swished as he walked over, spreading the reports across the desk. “This really is all we have on her at the moment,” he said after skimming over each short report briefly, “Vexen tested her ability regarding memory alteration and found it somewhat similar to how my illusory attribute is structured.”
“Rather limited if she can only affect those connected to Sora’s heart.”
“That’s the current hypothesis,” Zexion furtively glanced up from the papers only to inadvertently meet Xemnas’ eyes. He averted his gaze back down to the desk corner near the Superior instead. “We haven’t exactly had the right amount of testing to nail it down, but that’s the theory Vexen and I settled on as of now.”
“Interesting,” Xemnas mused, drawing the word out languidly.
“Yes,” Zexion agreed, looking uncomfortable. He shifted his weight nervously for a moment, evidently waiting for dismissal that the Superior didn’t give. He held anxious position for a few weighty moments before edging away.
“I need to return to Vexen, he’ll be wondering where I am; we need to discuss retrofitting Lexaeus’ axe sword before his next mission.”
With no objection, the teenager took it as dismissal and hastily made his leave. Something in him half-heartedly wanted to call out an apology for his actions as he left, but Xemnas simply watched his back recede until he was crossing the threshold of the archive into the corridor.
“Number VI,” he spoke, and Zexion stopped stiffly without turning around.
“I won’t be so kind again. I understand we were close before the Organization, but my remaining patience with your attitude is waning.”
Zexion wilted almost imperceptibly at the words. “I understand, Superior. It won’t happen again.” His words were hollow
“See to it that it doesn’t.”
The door shut between them and Xemnas returned his attention to the reports littering the desk. If Naminé’s power was as theorized, Kingdom Hearts was as good as theirs.
He tucked the reports safely into the crook of his elbow after thumbing to the personnel report. She hadn’t been given any other clothing than what she’d been discovered wearing, which was far from protocol regarding stronger Nobodies. He’d have to rectify that soon; Xemnas made a mental note to order a new cloak be tailored for her. Small and feminine happened to be the natural opposite of the majority of the members, and a uniform customized to fit would be only proper for her.
Before he made his exit, he made certain to tidy the area as Zexion had so rudely asked.