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“My, my…if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were just suggesting we engage in some intentional friendly fire.”
Saïx remained expressionless, save for the slightest quirking of an eyebrow. “Friendly fire? Of course I’d never suggest such a thing,” he said flatly, folding his arms across his chest. “Why should there be anything friendly about it?”
That got a laugh from Axel, loose and upsettingly good-natured, given the subject matter. “Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I was over here thinking that the goal of this whole Oblivion deal was to let Vexen play mad scientist far, far away from the rest of us.” He threw himself into one of the room’s wide-seated chairs, smirking as he sprawled out sideways. Settling in with his legs over one of the armrests, he met Saïx’s gaze once more, “Then again, I’m not as high up the ladder as you, am I?”
He remained perfectly unmoved, having long ago learned that ignoring Axel’s baiting often yielded better results than indulging it. “It’s been brought to our attention that there may be some traitors among the ranks being sent to Oblivion.”
“Really? Huh. Well. Let me just sit here and try and puzzle this one out with you.” Leaning back, Axel let his head loll off of the chair. He stared at the ceiling with a mockingly serious crease between his eyebrows as he flexed the fingers of one hand as though doing math on some imaginary board. “Could it be…the three founding members who literally--literally--doomed their entire world just because the Superior told them to, for funsies…or could it be…the two newbies who don’t talk to anyone else…Hmmm.”
“Axel.”
“Nonono, shhhh. I think I’m close to crackin’ this one for you. Hang on, I feel it…the answer’s coming to me…”
“Axel.”
Smirk as hooked as ever, he swiveled his head back to look at Saïx. “You still really got it out for him, don’t you?” When he said nothing in response, Axel laughed again, shaking his head. “So what is it? What is it really? Is it that he got one rank higher than you? Or is it that Xemnas still likes him just a litttttttle bit more than you?”
To the untrained eye, Saïx was unaffected. But Axel was anything but untrained when it came to him--the skin around the deep slashes of his scar had furrowed just enough to signal that the jab had hit home, the corners of his mouth had tightened just enough to suggest he was stopping himself from snapping out a response before fully thinking it through. Axel couldn’t help but wonder if Saïx, so used to having others cower before his expressionless wrath, had already forgotten how very, very easily he could read him.
And then–-less coincidence, and more proof of their being sympatico, “Have you already forgotten Radiant Garden?”
Clucking his tongue and rolling his eyes, Axel heaved a sigh, “If this was about Radiant Garden, you’d be asking me to put the thaw to Vexen, too.”
“Who am I to stop you?”
That gave him pause. He narrowed his eyes, watching Saïx’s slow pacing. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? You really want me to go in there and fry Dr. Frankenstein and Igor.” Swinging his legs over to the front of the chair, he slouched forward, elbows on his knees. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s something I’ve considered.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“But what makes you think that I can, A: get into Oblivion? B: separate Zexion from his…giant monster of a bodyguard long enough to seal the deal? And C: convince Xemnas that his two golden boys were justifiable kills? Because I’ll be straight with you, that sounds like…a whole lotta work for me, without a whole lotta payoff.”
Something in Saïx’s posture changed, then. There was an electricity about him, a sudden furious energy. Like a starving predator scenting blood nearby. “You’ll be sent to Oblivion. I’ll see to it.”
“Fantastic. I can’t tell you how excited I am to get an assignment where I get to spend…well, any amount of time, really, with all my favorite teammates in one, concentrated location. What fun we’ll have!”
Whether listening or not, Saïx continued talking. “I can’t help you get them alone, but how difficult could it be?”
Axel quirked a brow, “Clearly you’ve never had to spar with Lexaeus.”
“As for Lord Xemnas.” His tone became unnervingly calm, almost serene. “I’m sure we have…some reason to believe they may have been traitors.” He pursed his lips for a moment, “After all, it does appear to be a pattern with them. Look at what happened to Ansem.”
Axel scoffed.
“There will be no repercussions. For you, at least.” Saïx straightened himself up, glancing momentarily out of the glass panes of the room’s walls, training his eyes far above them, at the large, gleaming heavenly body looming over them. “It should be a simple enough task for you.”
“Mhm. Thanks for the vote of confidence. But uh…as fun as murder is–-and boy howdy, I do know it should serve as its own reward-–you’ve neglected one teeny, tiny, little detail.” He set his chin in his hands, smiling in a manner more saccharine than sincere. “Why would I do this for you?”
Saïx regarded him for a long moment, searching for any sign of sarcasm, of humor, of mirth. He realized, then, that Axel was serious. It almost took him aback. “Because we’re friends,” he stated simply.
Leaning back against the chair, Axel crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh,” he remarked, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly. “Are we, still?”