Chapter One

Chapter One

The ground was cold beneath him. No, not cold, freezing, but also wet with some strange liquid. It was a dark red color, thick, and creeping out from under him. It looked so familiar. Its smell was so strong, rough and full of iron. He knew he should have been able to recognize it, but he couldn't concentrate. The world around him was distorted. If he tried to concentrate on one point it immediately changed, or gave him a horrible sick feeling. Closing his eyes made it give away slightly, before a strange metallic taste entered his mouth.

He would have tried to move but the ground was starting to feel warm and he was so tired. There was no need to move, he could stay here. The pain would go away and he'd be overcome by a feeling of bliss. After all he was absolutely exhausted from—wait. How did he get here?

"From what?" barely escaped from his lips. That is when the world went black.

There was a quick, dull pain on his ribs. If it had happened once he may have ignored it, but the action was repeated. "VI, get up." Said whatever was harming him, "Come on there's no time to be lying around"

The voice cut off abruptly before saying again, this time in a more panicked, manner, "VI, get up right now!"

He opened one eye and wished he hadn't. Immediately he felt as if he were going to be sick, the light felt like two needles were stabbing into his eyes. He grunted, covering his eyes until the pain had ebbed enough for him to speak. "One…moment."

VI, Zexion, rolled on to his side where he felt a horrible pain shooting through his arm. He winced as he got to his knees and managed to stand up, though very shakily. He pushed hair out of his left eye, in a feeble attempt to improve his vision. Some of the locks felt extremely rough and slightly wet. Moving his hand into his sight he saw his fingertips were stained a rusty color, not unlike how dried blood looked. Suddenly the connection was made. Something had happened to him, something bad. He was bleeding from his head, which implied he had either been hit or fell hard. There was a more-than-likely chance that he was concussed, and had quite a few broken bones or heavy bruising along his left side.

He looked down to see his Organization coat was torn, revealing a wound that was freely bleeding. The incisions were short but deep, as if whatever had happened got cut off. That stuff could wait until he got back to Castle Oblivion, for now he was more curious as to whom his "savior" was.

The person turned out to be a man quite a bit taller and broader then him, dressed in a the same style coat as him. His hair was shoulder length with a feathered texture, pink-auburn hair. His normally arrogant expression now was knotted in what looked like to be concern. It was none other than XI, Marluxia, the very Lord of Castle Oblivion himself. Regardless of his position, he was nothing then a mere neophyte, and in Zexion's opinion, underneath him. He couldn't look weak, especially to the most egotistical member of the Organization, despite how much pain he may be in. Channeling as much of his energy as possible he maintained a perfect, straight posture. "XI," he said in slow, controlled breaths, "what are you doing out here?"

"Apparently saving your ass. What on earth are you doing out here?" Marluxia challenged.

"Having a tea party." He replied, "Now if you would excuse me." Inhaling deeply, he mustered enough energy to be able to manage a few steps before he was pulled back. Hands gripped his shoulders and spun him to face the other nobody.

"Now listen here," Marluxia glared, "You are going to stay here until I can get Lexaeus to carry you back. You are in no condition to walk."

"I'd rather not." Zexion replied icily.

"That's an order!" XI commanded

Instead of giving a reply, Zexion shrugged Marluxia's hands off of him and proceeded with his slow, and heavily strained walk. He closed his eyes for a moment in a vain attempt to rid his throbbing headache, though soon enough he ran into something, or rather someone as cold metal brushed against his cheek.

He opened his eyes to find a scythe and its owner. "You just don't give up, do you?" he grunted.

"If you're not going to cooperate then I am going to make you." Marluxia said dangerously, "I'm sure Superior wouldn't like the fact that he was down one of his precious six just because he was being an idiot."

"XI, I am fine. There is no need for--" his surroundings seemed to be melting, the ground didn't seem solid. He stood up, feeling as if he was okay again. Though he ended up tripping on the step he had intended to take and ended up falling forward into what he hoped was Marluxia.