The clash of metal against metal, the shriek of blades scraping against one another, claymore and scythe moving in a blur of movement... It was all Marluxia saw, all he heard. He would not be struck down here. Not if he could help it. Not by the Organization. Not by Xemnas's lapdog.

The parries came slower and slower until finally Saix struck true. Marluxia had seen the blow coming and had attempted to dodge as much of it as he could, but he was still sent staggering backward, a gash opening across his chest. He put a hand over it almost reflexively, drawing in a shaky breath as he slowly looked up to face his opponent. Marluxia's expression shifted to a mask of shock and anger, but his blue eyes remained as dead as ever.

One thought continued to echo through the Graceful Assassin's mind: How dare he?