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The Superior

A Kingdom Hearts fan-fiction

Disclaimers: Yay, my prologue got a review.  That makes me smile~  So, here, the first chapter for a bit of background from the confusing first part.

Oh, just FYI – I’m trying to stay away from the stereotypical ‘OOC’ personalities of the Organization that so many of us find so annoying.  I don’t have much to work with as far as canon personalities, but… well, I do what I can.  Be warned, though, my canon!Demyx seems to cuss a lot.  Sorry about that, younguns.

And, for you fangirls, here’s your pairings warning: none.  That’s right.  There’s actually not a trace of yaoi in this fic.  Go figure.  You people’ll find one anyway, I don’t doubt.

---

Chapter One: Dominance

---

So.  Sorry to have abandoned you back there, but there’s so much to tell… so much information to get in just the right place before this whole shitstorm explodes and I’m left standing there going “What the hell just happened?”

Eh.  Who am I kidding?  I’m not going to be left when this is over.

Right.  Sorry.  I was about to tell you about that meeting, wasn’t I?  Ah, yes, that fateful meeting when Xigbar uttered those few words that would kill us, so to speak.

It was like lighting the match and setting it to the fuse of a stick of dynamite.  I have never seen us explode like that.  It was…

…amazing.

…terrifying.

…enchanting.

I don’t know what the hell it was, but it freaked me out and I hope to God, if there is one, that when I’m reincarnated that I never have to see something like this again.  I hope Xigbar and Saix and Marluxia are as far away from me as humanly possible and that I never, ever, EVER have to think back on this!

This is not an “I’ll think back on this and laugh” sort of thing.  No.  There will be no looking back.  There will be no laughing.  There isn’t going to be anyone left to laugh – at least, not anyone who isn’t totally out of their fucking mind by the time all of this is said and done.

But I’m sorry.  I’m off track again.  That’s one thing you need to remember about me – I’m not a wimp.  I’m not a coward.  I’m not weak.  I just don’t like confrontation.  I don’t like talking about confrontation.  This is definitely confrontation, what you’re asking me to talk about.

Sorry for that detour – my sentences are getting disjointed.  I’m making no sense.  I’m back now.

But I need to make it quick, because I, Demyx, the Melodious Nocturne, ninth member of the infamous Organization XIII, am about to die.

---

“What the fuck kind of right does he think he has to call a meeting?” Axel growled to no one in particular.  The fire user hadn’t been in the best of moods ever since the… stunt… Roxas had pulled not too long ago, and if there was one thing he didn’t want to put up with, it was Xigbar.  “I mean, where does he get off acting like Xemnas?  The Superior’s the only one who can call a meeting!”

“I’m sure he had a good enough reason,” Zexion countered, leveling Axel with a stare that would have turned a lesser man’s insides to yogurt.  Eleven members had gathered in the meeting room, perched in their various chairs in their various states of relaxation.

Rolling his eyes, Marluxia folded his fingers with his fingertips against his palm, examining his nails boredly.  “Well, I hope he makes it quick.”

“Maybe he has some kind of a report to make about the Superior.  Like, say, why he’s not here doing this,” Demyx said, adding the last part in a mutter as he settled back into his chair, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

“Maybe he killed the brat,” Larxene said hopefully as she swung one leg over the arm of her chair.  “That’d be nice.  I hope so.  If he did, and he did it this afternoon, that means I won the betting pool.”

“No, luv, you have to get the method of murder correct, too,” Luxord said with an idle shake of his index finger.  “If you don’t get absolutely everything exactly right, the whole prize goes to me.”

“What?” Demyx exclaimed, sitting up straight again.  “Aw, that’s totally not fair!  Lemme guess… you’re gonna rig it so there’s no way any of us can win, too, aren’t you?”

Looking appropriately scandalized, Luxord laid a delicate hand across his breastbone.  “I?” he asked, affronted.  “Would I stoop so low as to cheat after honest bets had been placed?!” Unable to maintain a straight face any longer, he smirked and continued, “There’s no way I’d wait so long.  For all you know, I had Zexion plant impossible psychic suggestions into your heads to guide your bets, ensuring my win that way, using half the subsequent prize as a bribe.”

“You’re both royal pains in the ass,” Xaldin said quietly.  He and Lexaeus exchanged looks before both rolled their eyes, the latter of the two shrugging slightly.  Not much that could be done about them, his expression said.

“I do what I can, luv.”

“This doesn’t change the fact that we still have no idea why we’re even here,” Vexen said boredly, leaning forward on his knees before focusing across the room.  “Number seven, do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“No,” Saix said flatly, maintaining his posture.  “I have not heard anything from the Superior since he left.”

“There’s a surprise,” Demyx yawned, having recovered from his indignation at Luxord.  “In all honesty, I was shocked that you didn’t go off with him, Saix.  Really, can you possibly bear to see your master frolicking off without you?”

Saix favored Demyx with a glare, the visual extent of his anger without the aid of his Berserker side, while Axel nearly choked laughing at the mental image of Xemnas frolicking anywhere, or for any reason.

The conversation, and potential Axel-and-Demyx-massacre, was stopped short with the familiar sound of someone warping into the room.  The general attention was turned to Xigbar, sitting far more straight in his chair than he usually did, his hood pulled over his face; even Zexion closed his book, vanishing it in tendrils of shadow.

Silence reigned for nearly a solid minute before they erupted.  Nearly every member of the Organization began flinging questions at Xigbar, demanding to know what was going on and talking over each other to the point that their voices became a cacophony of sound.

The sound stopped when they realized that, not only could Xigbar not hear him, but he wasn’t talking.  Soon the large white room was completely silent again, glances exchanged briefly during it.

“We have a problem,” Xigbar said calmly as he moved his cloak off his head.  Water dripped from it, as though he had been out somewhere in the rain.

“What’s going on?” Vexen finally demanded, slamming his fist on his chair.  “You call us here, but for what purpose?  I don’t see any reason for-”

“Shut up, number four,” Xigbar said quietly as he glanced over at Vexen briefly.  The blond did shut up, though it was more than likely due to surprise than anything else.  Sighing quietly, as though preparing himself, Xigbar closed his eye before opening it again, looking around the room.

“The Superior is dead.”

---

Well, needless to say, that woke us up a bit.

Probably you too, huh?

Believe me, that had been the furthest thing from any of our minds.  That had been evidenced by the initial reaction – namely, stunned silence, eleven pairs of eyes staring at Xigbar like he was some sort of alien creature we had never seen before.

Then the problems started.  I blame Zexion.  I think the bastard did it on purpose.

---

“He’s WHAT?!” Larxene screamed, a shrill sound that grated on the rest of the occupants like ragged nails making designs on an old and dirty chalkboard.  Axel actually clasped his hand to his jaw as he felt his teeth set on edge.

“You heard me,” Xigbar said sharply as he whirled his head around to face her with speed that sent his ponytail lashing through the air.  “Xemnas.  He’s dead.”

“How?!  Who?!  When?!  Where?!  Why?!”

“Larxene, shut up before I’m forced to kill you.  Xigbar, what’s going on?” Xaldin asked in a far calmer fashion.

It was obvious the Organization had been thoroughly turned on its head at that.  Most of them were still in shock.  Demyx, for one, couldn’t believe a word he had just heard.  Of course, a quick glance around the room proved that, like him, the rest of the members weren’t mourning the death of their Superior.  Demyx, for one, hadn’t liked him much, and didn’t care one way or another if Xemnas was dead.

The problem that was obviously plaguing everyone was, quite simply…

“Aw, what the fuck are we supposed to do now?!” Axel cried, slamming his fist down onto the arm of his chair.  Exclamations of agreement followed – the only quiet ones were Xaldin, Lexaeus, Zexion, and Roxas.

“Shut up shut up shut up shut up!!!” Xigbar yelled over the din, brandishing the gun that no one had seen him draw.  One laser embedding itself in Marluxia’s chair – a good five feet above the assassin, but enough to make an impression – was what finally silenced the panic.

“I found the Superior before he faded,” Xigbar finally said, annoyed, as he vanished his gun and instead drew a small blue stone from the folds of his cloak.  It was flat on one side and rounded on the other, a perfect half-circle, its turquoise surface glinting in the harsh, unnatural white light of the meeting room.  “He told me to give it to you, Shorty,” he added as he tossed the disk to Zexion.

“…good God,” Zexion murmured as he studied it.

“What is it?”

“It’s… effectively, I believe it to be his will.”

-

Only a select few of the rooms around the stronghold had an actual name and purpose.  Each member had their own room which served as their own personal space beyond their sleeping quarters, but the place was huge and, even with twenty-six member dedicated rooms in addition to the basic rooms, there were places in areas that some members hadn’t even known existed.

Naturally, Zexion knew the whole goddamn layout perfectly.  Demyx glared at his back as they all followed the obnoxious know-it-all to wherever it was they were going.  Sure, the guy may have been psychic, but that didn’t give him the right to know absolutely everything.

“Actually, it does,” Zexion said easily, a smile appearing half due to Demyx’s cry of frustration and the other members’ confused glances.  Before anyone had the chance to ask, the psychic stopped and looked up at a wall.  “Here.”  He raised his hand and pressed it against the wall, a thin outline of a door appearing in the black marble surface.  Soon, there was a white door where there had once been solid wall, standing out starkly against the white surface.

“What the hell is this?” Xigbar asked in his usual gruff fashion.

“Everyone has a room in addition to their quarters.  This is mine.”

“…I thought the library was your room,” Roxas said, speaking for the first time that day.  There was a general murmur of agreement with that statement, but Zexion merely rolled his eyes as though to say ‘poor pathetic ignorant mortals’.

“The library is public to the Organization.  Simply because I’m the only one who frequents it doesn’t mean it’s mine.”

Demyx and Axel exchanged glances before the latter gave a one-shouldered shrug that said, ‘Makes sense’.

The room had no windows and no furniture.  The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of a dark blue marble, making everything seem to mould together.  The floor looked as though it had a large circular piece missing out of the center, leaving a large hole in the floor.  The room was circular, and the only light seemed to come from the marble itself, which was giving off an eerie blue glow.

“Okay, now, out with it,” Luxord said languidly after they had taken in the surroundings.  Zexion had kept walking, into the pit in the middle of the circular room, and he stopped beside a small indention the same shape as the turquoise stone in his hands.  It was Luxord who continued, “What, exactly, do you mean by saying that this is his will?”

“I never said it was.  I said I believed it to be.”

“It’s a rock,” Demyx said, unimpressed.

“No, it isn’t,” Zexion said in exasperation.  “As high-ranking Nobodies, each of us has the ability to psychically imbed things in inanimate objects like this.  Things like thoughts, words, or – considering it’s Xemnas we’re talking about – images surrounding one at the time.  It… think of it as extracting your thoughts and implanting it in this,” he held up the stone for emphasis, “to be read later.”

“A psychic rock, then.”

“Why’d you get it?” Axel asked, tilting his head as a teasing smirk curved his mouth.  “You the Superior’s ‘special friend’ or something, Shrimp?”

“The reason I received it, you ignorant anorexic barbarian, is because I, unlike the rest of you, happen to be far more gifted in my mental capacity by way of intuition.”

“You’re a mind-reading inch-tall freak of nature from the seventh level of Hell, that’s what you are,” Demyx countered, and he was promptly elbowed by Roxas.  “What?” the Nocturne asked defensively.  “The weirdo was gonna hear it anyway, I might as well just say it out loud.”

“If you’re going to be that way, number nine, I suggest you leave before I make you rip out your own spine and strangle yourself with it.”

“Okay, we get it, it’s a message from Xemnas, quit yer bitchin’,” Xigbar said to the room in general.  “What the hell would he have to leave a will about?”

“Only one thing,” Zexion said as he turned the stone over in his hands.  Everyone sighed, internally or externally, as they recognized the look on the schemer’s face – he was about to start one of his little talks again, then ones that went on for the lengths of novels and involved words with more syllables than should be permissible.

“As it is, we have no money, which is typically what’s left in a will – no need for it, obviously, as the little that we need is provided for us in the sense of the cloaks we already have and the shelter of the stronghold and the Castle.  We don’t require nourishment, either, so we’re fine in that regard.  He has no possessions that any of us would be interested in; even if he did, he was probably well aware that upon his death we would raid his room and his will would be rendered inconsequential.

“Obviously, the stronghold and Castle are still our property, so he had no need to leave it to us. Really, there’s only one thing left that could potentially be on this thing, unless it’s simply a recording of his last moments.”  Kneeling down, he stuck the stone into the groove on the floor.

“Which would be?” Xigbar snapped, losing his last thread of patience.

Zexion rolled his eyes.  “Isn’t it obvious?  The only thing he has left to leave that would be of any importance to any of us – namely, who will now be the Superior of Organization XIII.”

---

Next chapter will have violence.  You’ve been warned, kiddies!

Description
The Superior

A Kingdom Hearts fan-fiction

Disclaimers: Yay, my prologue got a review.  That makes me smile~  So, here, the first chapter for a bit of background from the confusing first part.

Oh, just FYI – I’m trying to stay away from the stereotypical ‘OOC’ personalities of the Organization that so many of us find so annoying.  I don’t have much to work with as far as canon personalities, but… well, I do what I can.  Be warned, though, my canon!Demyx seems to cuss a lot.  Sorry about that, younguns.

And, for you fangirls, here’s your pairings warning: none.  That’s right.  There’s actually not a trace of yaoi in this fic.  Go figure.  You people’ll find one anyway, I don’t doubt.

---

Chapter One: Dominance

---

So.  Sorry to have abandoned you back there, but there’s so much to tell… so much information to get in just the right place before this whole shitstorm explodes and I’m left standing there going “What the hell just happened?”

Eh.  Who am I kidding?  I’m not going to be left when this is over.

Right.  Sorry.  I was about to tell you about that meeting, wasn’t I?  Ah, yes, that fateful meeting when Xigbar uttered those few words that would kill us, so to speak.

It was like lighting the match and setting it to the fuse of a stick of dynamite.  I have never seen us explode like that.  It was…

…amazing.

…terrifying.

…enchanting.

I don’t know what the hell it was, but it freaked me out and I hope to God, if there is one, that when I’m reincarnated that I never have to see something like this again.  I hope Xigbar and Saix and Marluxia are as far away from me as humanly possible and that I never, ever, EVER have to think back on this!

This is not an “I’ll think back on this and laugh” sort of thing.  No.  There will be no looking back.  There will be no laughing.  There isn’t going to be anyone left to laugh – at least, not anyone who isn’t totally out of their fucking mind by the time all of this is said and done.

But I’m sorry.  I’m off track again.  That’s one thing you need to remember about me – I’m not a wimp.  I’m not a coward.  I’m not weak.  I just don’t like confrontation.  I don’t like talking about confrontation.  This is definitely confrontation, what you’re asking me to talk about.

Sorry for that detour – my sentences are getting disjointed.  I’m making no sense.  I’m back now.

But I need to make it quick, because I, Demyx, the Melodious Nocturne, ninth member of the infamous Organization XIII, am about to die.

---

“What the fuck kind of right does he think he has to call a meeting?” Axel growled to no one in particular.  The fire user hadn’t been in the best of moods ever since the… stunt… Roxas had pulled not too long ago, and if there was one thing he didn’t want to put up with, it was Xigbar.  “I mean, where does he get off acting like Xemnas?  The Superior’s the only one who can call a meeting!”

“I’m sure he had a good enough reason,” Zexion countered, leveling Axel with a stare that would have turned a lesser man’s insides to yogurt.  Eleven members had gathered in the meeting room, perched in their various chairs in their various states of relaxation.

Rolling his eyes, Marluxia folded his fingers with his fingertips against his palm, examining his nails boredly.  “Well, I hope he makes it quick.”

“Maybe he has some kind of a report to make about the Superior.  Like, say, why he’s not here doing this,” Demyx said, adding the last part in a mutter as he settled back into his chair, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

“Maybe he killed the brat,” Larxene said hopefully as she swung one leg over the arm of her chair.  “That’d be nice.  I hope so.  If he did, and he did it this afternoon, that means I won the betting pool.”

“No, luv, you have to get the method of murder correct, too,” Luxord said with an idle shake of his index finger.  “If you don’t get absolutely everything exactly right, the whole prize goes to me.”

“What?” Demyx exclaimed, sitting up straight again.  “Aw, that’s totally not fair!  Lemme guess… you’re gonna rig it so there’s no way any of us can win, too, aren’t you?”

Looking appropriately scandalized, Luxord laid a delicate hand across his breastbone.  “I?” he asked, affronted.  “Would I stoop so low as to cheat after honest bets had been placed?!” Unable to maintain a straight face any longer, he smirked and continued, “There’s no way I’d wait so long.  For all you know, I had Zexion plant impossible psychic suggestions into your heads to guide your bets, ensuring my win that way, using half the subsequent prize as a bribe.”

“You’re both royal pains in the ass,” Xaldin said quietly.  He and Lexaeus exchanged looks before both rolled their eyes, the latter of the two shrugging slightly.  Not much that could be done about them, his expression said.

“I do what I can, luv.”

“This doesn’t change the fact that we still have no idea why we’re even here,” Vexen said boredly, leaning forward on his knees before focusing across the room.  “Number seven, do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“No,” Saix said flatly, maintaining his posture.  “I have not heard anything from the Superior since he left.”

“There’s a surprise,” Demyx yawned, having recovered from his indignation at Luxord.  “In all honesty, I was shocked that you didn’t go off with him, Saix.  Really, can you possibly bear to see your master frolicking off without you?”

Saix favored Demyx with a glare, the visual extent of his anger without the aid of his Berserker side, while Axel nearly choked laughing at the mental image of Xemnas frolicking anywhere, or for any reason.

The conversation, and potential Axel-and-Demyx-massacre, was stopped short with the familiar sound of someone warping into the room.  The general attention was turned to Xigbar, sitting far more straight in his chair than he usually did, his hood pulled over his face; even Zexion closed his book, vanishing it in tendrils of shadow.

Silence reigned for nearly a solid minute before they erupted.  Nearly every member of the Organization began flinging questions at Xigbar, demanding to know what was going on and talking over each other to the point that their voices became a cacophony of sound.

The sound stopped when they realized that, not only could Xigbar not hear him, but he wasn’t talking.  Soon the large white room was completely silent again, glances exchanged briefly during it.

“We have a problem,” Xigbar said calmly as he moved his cloak off his head.  Water dripped from it, as though he had been out somewhere in the rain.

“What’s going on?” Vexen finally demanded, slamming his fist on his chair.  “You call us here, but for what purpose?  I don’t see any reason for-”

“Shut up, number four,” Xigbar said quietly as he glanced over at Vexen briefly.  The blond did shut up, though it was more than likely due to surprise than anything else.  Sighing quietly, as though preparing himself, Xigbar closed his eye before opening it again, looking around the room.

“The Superior is dead.”

---

Well, needless to say, that woke us up a bit.

Probably you too, huh?

Believe me, that had been the furthest thing from any of our minds.  That had been evidenced by the initial reaction – namely, stunned silence, eleven pairs of eyes staring at Xigbar like he was some sort of alien creature we had never seen before.

Then the problems started.  I blame Zexion.  I think the bastard did it on purpose.

---

“He’s WHAT?!” Larxene screamed, a shrill sound that grated on the rest of the occupants like ragged nails making designs on an old and dirty chalkboard.  Axel actually clasped his hand to his jaw as he felt his teeth set on edge.

“You heard me,” Xigbar said sharply as he whirled his head around to face her with speed that sent his ponytail lashing through the air.  “Xemnas.  He’s dead.”

“How?!  Who?!  When?!  Where?!  Why?!”

“Larxene, shut up before I’m forced to kill you.  Xigbar, what’s going on?” Xaldin asked in a far calmer fashion.

It was obvious the Organization had been thoroughly turned on its head at that.  Most of them were still in shock.  Demyx, for one, couldn’t believe a word he had just heard.  Of course, a quick glance around the room proved that, like him, the rest of the members weren’t mourning the death of their Superior.  Demyx, for one, hadn’t liked him much, and didn’t care one way or another if Xemnas was dead.

The problem that was obviously plaguing everyone was, quite simply…

“Aw, what the fuck are we supposed to do now?!” Axel cried, slamming his fist down onto the arm of his chair.  Exclamations of agreement followed – the only quiet ones were Xaldin, Lexaeus, Zexion, and Roxas.

“Shut up shut up shut up shut up!!!” Xigbar yelled over the din, brandishing the gun that no one had seen him draw.  One laser embedding itself in Marluxia’s chair – a good five feet above the assassin, but enough to make an impression – was what finally silenced the panic.

“I found the Superior before he faded,” Xigbar finally said, annoyed, as he vanished his gun and instead drew a small blue stone from the folds of his cloak.  It was flat on one side and rounded on the other, a perfect half-circle, its turquoise surface glinting in the harsh, unnatural white light of the meeting room.  “He told me to give it to you, Shorty,” he added as he tossed the disk to Zexion.

“…good God,” Zexion murmured as he studied it.

“What is it?”

“It’s… effectively, I believe it to be his will.”

-

Only a select few of the rooms around the stronghold had an actual name and purpose.  Each member had their own room which served as their own personal space beyond their sleeping quarters, but the place was huge and, even with twenty-six member dedicated rooms in addition to the basic rooms, there were places in areas that some members hadn’t even known existed.

Naturally, Zexion knew the whole goddamn layout perfectly.  Demyx glared at his back as they all followed the obnoxious know-it-all to wherever it was they were going.  Sure, the guy may have been psychic, but that didn’t give him the right to know absolutely everything.

“Actually, it does,” Zexion said easily, a smile appearing half due to Demyx’s cry of frustration and the other members’ confused glances.  Before anyone had the chance to ask, the psychic stopped and looked up at a wall.  “Here.”  He raised his hand and pressed it against the wall, a thin outline of a door appearing in the black marble surface.  Soon, there was a white door where there had once been solid wall, standing out starkly against the white surface.

“What the hell is this?” Xigbar asked in his usual gruff fashion.

“Everyone has a room in addition to their quarters.  This is mine.”

“…I thought the library was your room,” Roxas said, speaking for the first time that day.  There was a general murmur of agreement with that statement, but Zexion merely rolled his eyes as though to say ‘poor pathetic ignorant mortals’.

“The library is public to the Organization.  Simply because I’m the only one who frequents it doesn’t mean it’s mine.”

Demyx and Axel exchanged glances before the latter gave a one-shouldered shrug that said, ‘Makes sense’.

The room had no windows and no furniture.  The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of a dark blue marble, making everything seem to mould together.  The floor looked as though it had a large circular piece missing out of the center, leaving a large hole in the floor.  The room was circular, and the only light seemed to come from the marble itself, which was giving off an eerie blue glow.

“Okay, now, out with it,” Luxord said languidly after they had taken in the surroundings.  Zexion had kept walking, into the pit in the middle of the circular room, and he stopped beside a small indention the same shape as the turquoise stone in his hands.  It was Luxord who continued, “What, exactly, do you mean by saying that this is his will?”

“I never said it was.  I said I believed it to be.”

“It’s a rock,” Demyx said, unimpressed.

“No, it isn’t,” Zexion said in exasperation.  “As high-ranking Nobodies, each of us has the ability to psychically imbed things in inanimate objects like this.  Things like thoughts, words, or – considering it’s Xemnas we’re talking about – images surrounding one at the time.  It… think of it as extracting your thoughts and implanting it in this,” he held up the stone for emphasis, “to be read later.”

“A psychic rock, then.”

“Why’d you get it?” Axel asked, tilting his head as a teasing smirk curved his mouth.  “You the Superior’s ‘special friend’ or something, Shrimp?”

“The reason I received it, you ignorant anorexic barbarian, is because I, unlike the rest of you, happen to be far more gifted in my mental capacity by way of intuition.”

“You’re a mind-reading inch-tall freak of nature from the seventh level of Hell, that’s what you are,” Demyx countered, and he was promptly elbowed by Roxas.  “What?” the Nocturne asked defensively.  “The weirdo was gonna hear it anyway, I might as well just say it out loud.”

“If you’re going to be that way, number nine, I suggest you leave before I make you rip out your own spine and strangle yourself with it.”

“Okay, we get it, it’s a message from Xemnas, quit yer bitchin’,” Xigbar said to the room in general.  “What the hell would he have to leave a will about?”

“Only one thing,” Zexion said as he turned the stone over in his hands.  Everyone sighed, internally or externally, as they recognized the look on the schemer’s face – he was about to start one of his little talks again, then ones that went on for the lengths of novels and involved words with more syllables than should be permissible.

“As it is, we have no money, which is typically what’s left in a will – no need for it, obviously, as the little that we need is provided for us in the sense of the cloaks we already have and the shelter of the stronghold and the Castle.  We don’t require nourishment, either, so we’re fine in that regard.  He has no possessions that any of us would be interested in; even if he did, he was probably well aware that upon his death we would raid his room and his will would be rendered inconsequential.

“Obviously, the stronghold and Castle are still our property, so he had no need to leave it to us. Really, there’s only one thing left that could potentially be on this thing, unless it’s simply a recording of his last moments.”  Kneeling down, he stuck the stone into the groove on the floor.

“Which would be?” Xigbar snapped, losing his last thread of patience.

Zexion rolled his eyes.  “Isn’t it obvious?  The only thing he has left to leave that would be of any importance to any of us – namely, who will now be the Superior of Organization XIII.”

---

Next chapter will have violence.  You’ve been warned, kiddies!