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At first, there was nothingness. Nothingness tainted with the vague memories of the Organization, and his demise.
It had started with the illusions, forged from deep within his intelligent mind, and based off of important data sampled from the darkness encasing Riku’s scattered memories. Within Castle Oblivion, he stood in the deepest basement, the company of his thoughts occupying the empty space as he mourned his fallen comrades. For the first time since his childhood, Lexaeus was absent from his side; the stalwart hero no longer watching over his young companion. For the first time since childhood, Zexion began to experience the deeply apathetic displeasure of abandonment at the looming absence of Vexen’s constant interference. Truth be told he missed his hero and his father figure, although he only justified the emotions as regret for unfinished business, and not from the dawning realization he’d lost yet another family to circumstances out of his control.
It was an undeniable fact that he was now left to his own devices, left staring at a blank set of plans he couldn’t execute without some horrid betrayal to his fellow members. What he knew, deep in the hollow of his chest, that any betrayal meant to happen would not be unjust. Numbers VIII, XI, and XII had greatly diverged from the Organization’s plans, and were currently constructing a ploy to suit their own selfish goals. The information Vexen had supplemented him with as he infiltrated the trio in the upper levels opened an entirely new set of doors to the Schemer, broadening his knowledge on the true heinousness of Axel, Marluxia, and Larxene’s actions.
He wanted revenge, and he knew just the dark tool to utilize. Riku, the counterpart to Sora’s infallible light, was to become his pawn to wreak havoc among those who betrayed himself and his comrades. Zexion knew just how to pry his way into the boy’s mind, and retrieve the deepest, darkest memories to foist upon him; forcing him to relive the most terrible moments of his life over and over again until he was a pliable as the replica Vexen had constructed.
When the time came to turning Riku’s strong will to putty in Zexion’s hands, his plans fell through and sundered as viciously as the islands Riku called home had. Taunting the boy, pulling at the sensitive nerves recalling his ties to darkness, was a useless tactic on Zexion’s part. His will had grown more powerful than the Schemer had anticipated, and after a wicked strike from the dark weapon the boy wielded, it seemed his plans were in dire need of an entirely new construction if he wished to take Riku as his pawn.
In a last ditch effort to preserve his own life, Zexion abandoned the island illusion, returning to the castle basements with a significantly weakened body. How, was the million dollar question plaguing his mind, and forcing a physical display of agitation; something nearly unheard of for the Schemer. He never expressed the true nature of his own so-called feelings, but this was something beyond his comprehension. The darkness he wore encased him like a second skin, and it nearly destroyed Zexion in one fell swoop. There was an impossibility Riku had learned to tame the darkness within him- Vexen had discussed it in length –but somehow, he had actually done it.
New plan. A new plan needed to be constructed, and quickly. With the three in the upper levels advancing themselves further each day, Zexion found himself grossly outnumbered on the playing field.
In an instant, the basement filled with the potent smell of darkness, much stronger than Zexion’s own, and his eyes darted up to a sight that forced his body into a panic; his muscles coiling defensively as the wall became his safe zone. Staring blankly at him, Riku stood in the basement with his aquamarine eyes boring holes into all that he was.
Panic flooded his body like a tsunami, but when he caught sight of vibrant locks glaring brightly against the darkness, his mind flipped a switch; eagerly constructing a new plan to get him the pawn he so desired. The replica, Vexen’s replica, would be perfect. Using the tool to defeat the pawn, and Zexion might consider sharing the gain if Axel proved his loyalty. Pushing himself from the wall, Zexion questioned number VIII’s intentions, considering the field laid out before him.
But as fate would have it, the playing field was to remain vastly unjust, and Zexion found himself forcing his weakened body forward to confront Axel. The words that dripped from his mouth were poison, but to the replica’s ears, they were hope.
The Schemer, determined not to fall the hands of a fellow member who’d betrayed him with Vexen’s annihilation, mustered up the last of his strength to defend himself. He was absolutely determined not to go down without a fight, but he barely had a moment’s notice to react until it was too late.
The replica’s hand reached for the front of his cloak as Zexion limped towards Axel, slamming his body against the wall he’d been clinging to only moments earlier. Moans of pain spilled over his lips, turning quickly into strangled sounds of agony. His hands grabbed for the replica’s arm, fighting weakly against the grip. The task of breathing was soon a labored one, and Zexion felt his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his feet no longer made contact with the floor. The sheer strength the replica possessed was apparent, and Zexion damned all Vexen was for creating such a formidable puppet.
With his breaths numbered, barely able to make it past his lips, Zexion felt the unholy hotness oozing from the replica’s hand into his body, consuming every last bit of his physical form in a dark power more dangerous than any illusion Zexion could’ve constructed. The faint adenoidal sounds of Axel’s voice rang in his ears, and soon his world was a wholesome nothingness.
How long he was drowning in that nothingness, he couldn’t tell. It could’ve been a couple seconds, or a couple of years. For all he knew, the darkness was his rebirth into something even more unholy than the physical form he’d been residing in since his demise as a child. Would he wake up again, caught up once more in the Organization’s clutches, with yellow staining his pristine blue eyes? Would he awaken to Lexaeus and Vexen in the same state of disrepair? Would there even be a second chance for a Nobody like him?
Consciously aware of all he thought about, as well as the consuming blackness engulfing his form, the nothingness he’d been floating in seemed to warm gradually over what could have been a millennia. Starting at what he imagined to be his chest, a hollow sound soon echoed around the warmth like clockwork; starting off barely there, but gradually rising as if somebody had been turning a volume dial.
Softly, slowly, the hollow nothingness was soon echoing with a faint thumping. As if somebody were tapping from inside of him, knocking on his ribcage like a front door. The warmth trickled up, bringing awareness to his torso, his neck, and the crown of his head.
Louder, the thumping began to take a solid beat as more warmth oozed its way down, again bringing awareness to what he assumed to be his lower abdomen. Louder, louder, the warmth trickled into his arms, his hands, and his legs. A thick fog lifted languidly, and louder still the thumping oozed conscious warmth into his feet; bringing an unheard of consciousness to his entire body.
In the darkness, his ears began to search in desperation for something to pull him out from beneath the drowning sea of nothingness, and he began with a deep breath; harmless water seeming to pour from his lungs with a strong exhale. In place of the loud, indiscernible thumping a sound came into his ears clearly.
…Lub dub, lub dub, lub dub…
Suddenly, a flashbulb of light. A burst of warmth. A clearing of the thick fog he’d been wading through.
Ienzo groaned, feeling a static buzz in his fingertips, his toes, and pouring down his body like a slow drizzle. Something cold was biting against his cheek, his palms, his legs clad in some foreign material that felt rough against his skin. His eyelids fluttered as if he was drawing himself out of a nap, only to flicker open at the familiar sound of Aeleus’ voice close to his ear.
Blinking the haze from his eyes, Ienzo pushed himself up on a single elbow, looking to the side of him where he became subconsciously aware of a presence. Lying face down against the cold tile floor was Even, his body position vaguely reminiscent of a drowned memory from his corrupt childhood.
He knew this place. This lab. This exact spot, all those years ago, was where he’d lost his heart. And here he was once more, the faint throbbing in his chest filling the hollowness he’d been so acquainted with reminding him he was only human.
Lying on the floor was the most counterproductive thing he could think of doing at the moment, and he forced his arms to hold his weight as he brought himself to sit on his knees. His body quivered with a fierce anxiousness he couldn’t place a word to, but his brain became far more concerned with Ansem’s study. Where he’d grown up, sitting on the edge of the desk, gorging himself with sea salt ice cream as he debated with the wise master that darkness of the heart must be tested on.
“I had made…” Ienzo muttered, his voice slurred with a thick uncertainty. “A grave miscalculation as a child.”
Next to his form, Ienzo watched from the corner of his eye as Aeleus’ great figure stumbled on two feet, pausing to catch himself on his knees. He was as graceless as a newborn deer, and it would have been humorous had the youngest apprentice not been drowning under a sea of overwhelming thoughts consuming his brain.
Dilan and Even began to stir from their resting places on the floor, both emitting groans at varying levels of discomfort. It was if they all had just awoken from a deep sleep, and their human forms had welcomed the presence of their lives back in after an all-too-real nightmare.
“Ienzo,” A white gloved hand was offered to the young man on the floor, a steady hand provided by the stalwart protector resuming his duties as if he’d never once left. The smaller male’s hand grabbed for that of his protector, and he found himself standing again on two feet. His balance was a pitiful display of weakness, and he faltered, only for Aeleus’ hands to clasp over his thin shoulders firmly but gently. Holding steady in place, Ienzo met the warm blue in his protector’s eyes; clearing his throat in a manner of snarky professionalism. “There you are.”
“Do assist Dilan and Even.” Ienzo stated, brushing off the large hands holding his shoulders. “I am going to examine the study.”
“Ienzo, don’t you think that you better—”
“I am quite competent to take care of myself, Aeleus. Assist Dilan and Even. I must…I must go. Bring them into the study once they are stable. Something is not quite right within these halls, and I must return to my duties. An apprentice’s work is never finished.” Ienzo seemed to be talking more so to himself than Aeleus as his tone dropped lower until he was all but mumbling beneath his breath.
Turning on his heel, Ienzo adjusted the ascot resting crookedly around his neck, his boots making a distinct noise on the tile floors. The concrete echo seemed to burrow itself into his body, and he worried on his lower lip as his right hand met his chin; almost habitually. His lips seemed to take on their own mind then, pursing sharply in a near pout of sheer concentration. The left hand was useless except for cupping his right elbow to hold his arm steadily in place as he walked, the crisp lab coat draped flawlessly over his body swishing behind every sure step he took.
Ienzo needed no map, no reintroduction to the hallowed halls of a long forgotten relic of a castle, as he led himself up a set of stairs that seemed much less perilous than he recalled as a child.
His body was a machine, set on the single task of cleaning up the mess he had made as a careless child. Convincing Ansem to construct that laboratory, the experiments he’d conducted himself before he’d even seen his first decade, they were all poignant reminders he was part of a grandeur problem. With a damaged reputation thriving in the broken halls of a damaged castle, Ienzo unofficially appointed himself the wielder of solutions.
While that numbing itch at the back of his mind became a faint reminder to the power he once exploited in his Nobody form, he began to challenge the notion he was a truly heartless monster. He was reconstituted now, by any and all definitions, but what if a lingering smidgen of his powers remained? They had been budding inside of him since he was a corrupt child, and lest they interfere positively with his work, he didn’t care much for the idea of destroying somebody’s psyche from the inside out. At least, not anymore.
Making his way to the study, and blinking back the brightness not present in the lower levels of the castle, Ienzo nearly felt his heart stop within his chest at the sight presented before him.
Everything he could remember about this place was incorrect; it was as if some strange force of nature had come through and destroyed everything he had attached his roots to. Books that were once neatly placed on the shelves were strewn about the floor, frames hung at awkward angle on the walls, broken glass littered the floors and the top of the desk. This state of decrepitude was inexcusable, and Ienzo felt his eyes narrow into slits while his brain worked overtime in his skull. If he ever wanted to see this place habitable once more, it would require a feat of deep cleaning.
“Master Ansem never would have allowed the castle to become this dilapidated.” Ienzo mumbled to himself, lowering his arms, though keeping his eyes narrowed as his face contorted around his concentration. He took a few cautious steps over some menacing looking shards of glass littering the floor, heading to stand at the front of the desk his wise guardian had once took residence; filling a much younger Ienzo’s mind with fanciful tales of darkness and light. The memories brought a faint warmth to his chest, and he ran the tips of his fingers over the desk’s surface. “He never should have indulged idea of testing upon the darkness within people’s hearts, and he may be sitting here now. Would I have come before him, presenting my new findings, had I never been victim to the darkness myself? What a predicament I am in.”
Ienzo stood there for a moment, letting his eyes comb over the ruins of what was once a beautiful home to science and unbridled curiosity. His fingers seemed to meld with the desktop, and he closed his eyes with a heavy exhale. A strange sensation began bubbling deep inside of his chest, like bile climbing his esophagus in ladder rungs. From behind his eyelids, again his brain began buzzing excitedly with the realization he had become whole again, but for what? At what cost did he need to pay to redeem himself, to forge a long dead light of purpose? Here he was, brought back to a lab in ruins, but with no more experiments on the darkness in people’s hearts what purpose would he serve now?
“—and another thing, where on earth is Ienzo? You simply let the boy wander off again? Have you no memories of his childhood, how utterly careless he was? Ienzo! Ow. Ienzo, answer me!”
The young Somebody picked up his head, unveiling his eyes as his long bangs brushed delicately against his cheek. Even’s stentorian voice wafted through the whispering halls of the castle, drawing Ienzo’s attention towards a door where the elder male burst in; Aeleus and Dilan following almost obediently at his heels. His blond hair flowed against each step he took, and Ienzo nearly had to swallow the urge to smile. With as much of an aberrant relationship the two shared, it was no wonder Ienzo found himself speaking in such length, and crossing his arms as he concentrated. Nonetheless, it was almost soothing to know his four closest companions from his younger days had been reconstituted unharmed.
“Even, do relax. I am right here, unscathed and breathing. I see you’ve brought along Aeleus and Dilan. Nice to see both of you are doing well. I was almost concerned we might need to bring in further measures to pull you from the floor.”
Dilan made a gruff noise of affirmation in his throat, which fell on deaf ears to Even. He simply narrowed his eyes, blond brows lowering in irritation, as he gave Ienzo a stern look. “That isn’t funny, Ienzo. Just look at this place! Oh, I am sure aging too quickly to be entrusted to rehabilitation projects this grand. But this, this glassware, just in pieces! How in the name of all things that are touched by light are we supposed to make any use of such expensive glass when it’s merely shards? I was the one who shelled out the amount necessary to purchase these pieces to begin with! Who would disrespect such fine craftsmanship? I have half of a mind to—”
Even cut his own tangent short, a feat somewhat improbable to the other apprentices in all of the years they’d known him, but it wasn’t for a needless cause. Because at that moment, without warning, in walked the one person Ienzo would have not minded to see become a vessel.
“Woah, am I late for a meeting?” That adenoidal voice, it rang over the disorganized room like a bell toll, and Ienzo felt his body tense with an uncharacteristic defensiveness. That voice was the last thing that he could recall before the darkness, and here it was again, ready to haunt him like a reoccurring nightmare.
Dilan ushered Even towards a bookcase as his face contorted multiple times through multiple stages of outrage; meanwhile, Aeleus took a few hearty strides towards the youngest apprentice. Lea seemed uneasy, and put his hands up as if to portray some sort of innocence, but none of the other four in the room were convinced.
An inelastic tension fell uneasily over the room, and nobody uttered a word for a solid thirty seconds; that is, until Even finally registered who he’d been glaring at during this time. “And who the hell allowed Axel in here?! Does nobody recall what fate befell me at his hand?!”
Dilan gave the redhead a stern look of disapproval, and Aeleus jutted his chin upwards in an attempts to appear even larger than he was; a tactic used in nature to scare prey away from the rest of the pack. “Calm down, Even. That was when I was Axel. The name’s Lea now—got it memorized?”
Nobody cared much to tread on the road of unasked questions, and Lea’s uneasiness began to quiver in his stomach. His sparkling green eyes darted between all the faces of the apprentices, meeting Aeleus’ blue eyes with a curious uncertainty. Aeleus, in return, brought his hands to the front of his massive chest, applying a heavy pressure to his knuckles until each individual joint popped with a resonating intimidation. He repeated the action on both hands, his eyes never once faltering from the acrid green.
“Lea,” Ienzo said, repeating the word like it left a bitter residue on his tongue. The vowels rolled off the wet muscle in a languid distaste of the word, and he grimaced. “It’s good to see you whole again.”
A stunned silence fell over the room, and even Aeleus’ face showed traces of surprise. The absence of hostility from the slate haired man seemed to slump Lea’s shoulders in a display of relaxation, and he smiled. “Nice to be back, Ienzo. So, uh, this place is looking a little worse for the wear, huh?”
“Indeed it is.” Ienzo answered, his tone hospitable, calm. “I was just about to tidy up the study. As you can plainly see, it’s in a state of near disrepair. Aeleus, Dilan, I was going to inquire for your assistance, considering the extent of the damage here. Lea, you’re welcome to stay and help if—”
“Actually,” The redhead said, running his tongue over his canine thoughtfully. “I was going to give the castle grounds a sweep. It seems we’re two hearts short.”
“Very well then.” The younger nodded, his long bangs tickling over his cheek with the bob of his head. “Do report back once you’ve completed your search. Oh, and Lea? I accept your apology. Perhaps my curious nature should be reigned in.”
Lea’s face seemed to cycle through three stages of shock before he was left wide-eyed, mouth gaping, and face slightly more pink than usual at the young male’s words. “S-sure, yeah.” He answered, rubbing at the back of his neck. Lea opened his mouth as if to say something, but promptly closed it, turning and heading out of the room.
In the wake of Lea’s absence, the remaining three apprentices were left almost dumbfounded. Had Ienzo really just acted so calmly, even with the knowledge of how Axel had betrayed him, and his cohorts?
“Ienzo, just what happened after Aeleus and I were eliminated?” Even’s hoarse voice asked, shooting an icy glare at the space Lea’s body had just been occupying.
Ienzo turned his body away from the door, away from the desk, and began to pace along the bookshelves; his hand meeting his chin. “Axel’s betrayal to Even, in his Nobody form, was not the only blood of his fellow members to stain his hands. After both Aeleus and Even had been eliminated, Axel had soon figured out I was still serving my dues to the Organization, although I was fully aware of all he, Larxene, and Marluxia had planned. I attempted to convert Riku to my pawn, but he had grown to be a formidable force, and to my shame, I was defeated. After returning to the basement in a weakened state, Axel appeared with Vexen’s replica. He used the replica to essentially absorb my life force, thus killing my Nobody form. From then, I awoke here, and that brings us to where we stand now. Dilan, you were not at Castle Oblivion, correct? Do you recall any news spreading within the ranks of the reduction in the Organization’s size?”
“It was a daily reporting. We were always informed when another member was felled.” Dilan replied in a calm voice, furrowing his brows. “Axel was the only member to return. He and Saïx seemed unconcerned with the loss of five members.”
“Mm.” Ienzo answered, kneeling to examine a bookshelf, and running the tips of his fingers over the taut spines. “Were these books in alphabetical order?”
“You were just civil to the one recompleted person who deserves punishment, and the most you’re concerned with is the order of books?” Even burst out, his green eyes holding a potent acidity.
“I agree with Even.” Aeleus added in a gruff voice, crossing his arms over his chest. “We should bring him here and make him atone for his betrayals.”
“Even, are you experiencing a headache?” Ienzo asked in a calm voice, standing from his lowered position, a few books cradled in his arms. “Perhaps you should lay down and join us once again after you’ve stabilized more.”
“We are not through discussing this, Ienzo.” Even stated in a matter-of-fact tone, almost sounding as though he were talking to a child again. “I am far too old for outbursts like this…” He muttered to himself, brushing by the youngest apprentice on his way towards the door.
Ienzo shook his head at Even’s antics, realizing then that some people never really change; heart or not. He walked over to the desk, dropping the books gingerly onto its surface, and began to leaf through the aged pages. He hummed a nameless tune to himself, letting his eyes skim lazily over the pages, as if to double check the book contained all necessary information.
Behind his back, Dilan and Aeleus shared a similar look of confusion and slight worry, neither sure what to make of the youngest apprentice’s actions. “Ienzo, are you—”
“Fine!” He answered a little too quickly, and with just a little too much gusto. “Fine. Everything is perfectly fine. Aeleus, would you help me organize the study? It’s dreadful in here. How could any right minded person concentrate under these conditions?”
“I…sure.” Aeleus answered simply, sighing. This jumpy, anxiety ridden adult wasn’t the Ienzo he knew, and it actually drew some concern to the surface. The Zexion that Lexaeus had known would have crawled inside of Lea’s mind, and disemboweled him with illusions of the most painful death he could construct, forcing him to relive an endless stream of scenarios over and over again until he begged for mercy. Ienzo, granted his powers weren’t under so much influence of the darkness in his heart, most likely still had some ability to eviscerate a person’s psyche; and Aeleus wondered why he hadn’t sought some kind of elaborate scheme to make Lea suffer for indirectly killing him.
“Have you ever noticed that—oh my. Wow, look at this! There’s an error here in this formula. How fascinating…” Lost in his puzzled thoughts, Aeleus looked up to the sound of the young male’s voice; standing hunched at the shoulders over papers scattered along the surface of Ansem’s desk. Aeleus knew that stance, he knew it meant something was deeply troubling Ienzo, but he was determined to remain on the upswing. He was truly a puzzle, but Aeleus knew he come to senses…eventually.
Pursing his lips, the older male made his way to the bookshelf, kneeling by a pile of books that needed to find homes within the shelves. Dilan attempted to assist in the cleaning process, but he found himself swaying, faltering, on two feet.
“Dilan, do go and rest with Even. Ienzo and I can manage the clean up here. It’s best not to overexert yourself quite yet.” Aeleus said in a neutral tone, earning an appreciative nod from the black haired male. Dilan followed in Even’s footsteps, heading out of the door to find a comfortable spot to rest until he was fully recuperated.
Meanwhile, Ienzo busied himself with flitting around the study; placing a book here, sweeping glass to the side with his boot for later removal, and muttering to himself about illogical formulas. He seemed just too busy for somebody recently reconstituted, and the strange optimism he wore was a larger cause for concern the longer he busied himself, and spouted strange affirmations. Ienzo seemed too eager to answer Aeleus’ concern with quick subject changes, and even went so far to saddle the older nobody with menial book duties.
It took less than five minutes of Ienzo’s behavior before Aeleus had absolutely enough. He stood from his task at hand, walking over to the slate haired male, and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Ienzo. What has gotten into you?”
A silence panned over the room, swallowing the two Somebodies whole. Ienzo’s body stiffened beneath the touch, to his shoulder, and he let go a shaky exhale before speaking. “I’m trying to be alright, Aeleus. Being a part of the Organization was the only purpose I’ve had since I was barely eight years old. Now that I’m whole again, I’ve lost any sense of purpose I thought I had. I need to do something; keep myself busy or I may just disintegrate. Now, please, just help me organize the study.”
The impending existential crisis hovering over Ienzo’s head like cloud became more apparent to Aeleus with each word the younger spoke, and he nodded understandingly. This was not something he’d thought about, his own sense of purpose, as he’d been concerning himself with just making sure everybody else was alright. Clearly, instability was a common theme with newly whole Somebodies.
Aeleus removed his hand from the other’s thin shoulders, removing himself from near Ienzo’s body entirely, and resuming his task of shelving books. He tossed worried glances over his shoulder every few moments, watching the blur of his white coat and slate hair attempt to finish however many tasks he’d already begun, while starting one after another. Aeleus hadn’t really noticed this trait in the youngest apprentice before, but he always needed a purpose. Whether he was Zexion or Ienzo, his purpose was filling a goal, reaching for some sort of higher purpose in life. It was a thought strong enough to furrow his brows and make him really wonder what went through Ienzo’s brain on a regular basis.
Focusing on rearranging the titles, Aeleus listened to the subtle turning of pages Ienzo created by leafing through various books as he picked them up. They remained together in a calm silence, busying themselves until the sound of footsteps echoed through the halls.
“Hey,” An all-too-familiar voice said. “Are the other two out cold?”