Saïx wasn't sure who had brought Xion to this place, much less why. It hadn't been on any orders he knew of, and thus the only logical conclusion was that it had been summoned by whatever was responsible for bringing the variety of people in. Why it had chosen a puppet over someone more interesting he could no more guess than stop the sun in the sky.

But it wasn't important. The thing had collapsed in the middle of the street. Broken again, no doubt, but a broken puppet could always be fixed. His course was clear.

No one stopped him as he approached the fallen Xion, and picked her up like so much dead weight. Why should they when he apparently either knew her or felt like being a good samaritan? As an afterthought he stooped to pick the journal it had been given, before turning a corner and disappearing down an alleyway before vanishing through a portal. He wasn't ready to be seen as an Organization member while in the clothes he was currently wearing.