A/N: Thank you to all that have read and reviewed so far – I read and enjoy every review. I wish I had the time to reply to them, but I barely have time to type up each new drabble as it is. Thank you thank you thank you everyone.

One of Zexion's favorite activities was to relax in the library, curled up on the couch with his cup of lemon tea and a decent book. His book of choice on this particular day was The Hunchback of Notre Dame, a novel he'd found to be intriguing in many ways. He was about two-thirds of the way through the work, and he simply couldn't bear to stop, especially since he was so close to the end. This resulted in him shoving all his assignments and required activities to the metaphorical back burner in lieu of finishing the work.

As such, the lexicon was lying several feet away, opened to the page he'd last worked on – Number IX, he believed, though it could have been something else entirely – whilst he turned each page of his novel, enthralled by the text. In fact, his attention was so focused on the book by itself, that he did not notice the sudden arrival of Number V via dark portal. Several silent minutes passed, in which Number V spent merely staring at one of the smallest members of the Organization. It wasn't until the larger man had become impatient, cleared his throat, and called out to Zexion did he even realize the other's presence.

"Ienzo," he said, for he had never quite adapted to calling any of the original six by their new names, opting instead to call each by the given name of their Somebody. "Whatever happened to working on the Lexicon?" The vocalization gave Zexion quite the start, though, as he jumped several inches off the couch and his book quickly fluttered noisily to the floor.

"I apologize," Zexion muttered, hand placed over where his heart should have been – should he have possessed a heart, it would have been an attempt at calming the frantic and erratic beating. But the sensation was completely absent, and so, the gesture was utterly meaningless.

"I assume you're here for the interview?" It was a question – one that was answered by a simple nod on Number V's part. After successfully calming his nerves, he scooted off the couch, the sound of his clothes rustling amplified by the spacious library, and with feline-like grace, strode over to his chair, sitting once more.

Number V: Lexaeus, The Silent Hero

Male

Axe-Sword, "Torn Heaven"

"There is little about me that you do not already know, Ienzo," Number V stated, his voice steady, calm – monotonous, even. Zexion only shrugged, dipping his quill in ink before beginning.

As Number V stated, there is very little that I do not know about him. But, in order to keep his section as truthful as possible, I feel his presence is a necessity, merely for verification of the facts.

Aeleus, like myself, was an assistant to Ansem the Wise. The six of us gathered from varying worlds, Aeleus originating from a desert-like world – though even now, he refuses to relinquish the name of this place.

The Somebody, Aeleus, and the Nobody, Lexaeus, are completely synonymous in behaviour; to know one is to know the other.

Number V recalled precisely the details of the very night that all six of Ansem the Wise's laboratory assistants were claimed by darkness, and upon describing the event, I realized that the experience was not unlike my own. He was working diligently, studying something or another – this was the only detail he refused to tell me, as we were all very secretive and kept all our progress from one another, a habit I assume is now quite ingrained into his mind – when there was a low rumble and suddenly the glass of the massive windows surrounding us exploded inwards. Not one of us escaped the intensity of the blast – Aeleus included. Bleeding, he remembered crawling towards the door in an effort to escape and find help.

He managed to crawl a distance of three feet before there was blinding pain, then, nothing.

Number V says that I know the rest – and I do, for all six of us woke up to familiar yet unfamiliar faces around us in a world that we did not recognize. It was not until later that the Organization was formed, a memory that I share with Number V, along with the others of the original six, and the details of which I find irrelevant and therefore will not pen.

Zexion moved back to allow Number V to read over the writings; Number V quickly approved, and the lexicon was closed.

"I thank you for your cooperation," Zexion stated, moving to pick up his book. As Number V was fading into the darkness of the dark portal, he said something that was nearly lost. It was only through the movement of his lips that Zexion knew what was said.

"Remember lasciate ogni speranza."

And with that, Number V was gone. Zexion's eyes were wide with what would have been shock, had he really been able to feel it. After a moment of dead silence, he moved to pick up his book and sat once more on the couch, curling up once more in the corner and picking up from where he'd left off.

Trivia Time! From what book did the above phrase originate, and what does it translate to?