You lied on the ground, crimson sorrow pouring from your broken body. Terra had no mercy for those who had given in to the darkness, yet his own master, Xehanort, was far more evil than you would ever be. Terra walked towards you and rolled you upon your back as gently as one can using one's foot. "Where is she?" he asked with his gargantuan Keyblade pointed at your neck
"Who?"
"Aqua. Who else?" he shoved his weapon in your face. "Tell me or suffer the consequences."
You subtly moved back. You knew exactly where she was, but you were a good liar. Unfortunately, Terra was a better prosecutor.
Terra stepped back. Blood was now dripping from a long, but shallow gash on his face. An ideal warning strike, and made so quietly...only one person could have spilt blood so perfectly.
"Let her go. She doesn't know a thing."
The speaker stood a few feet behind him, wearing a pitch black mask with a steel frame around it. It was dappled in the light of the street lights, and it reflected in several directions. You know who this masked boy was. You were his informant. His name echoed through your mind a few times, eventually finding its way out your mouth.
"Vanitas," you mumble in your gratitude.
Terra turned to face him and asked with a chillingly calm voice, "How exactly would you know?" Vanitas spun his Keyblade in his hand and replied, "Because I already asked her, idiot." He gestured to the surrounding area. "She's just a local resident of Radiant Gardens. All she knows about our mess is that it involves the Unversed."
Terra looked at you as if to ask if he were right. You backed up and nodded quickly and made a feeble attempt to put pressure on the gaping wound in your chest. You cried out in pain upon your hand's contact with the wound, and looked down to see your own ribs.
Vanitas continued. "And you stabbed her just because she didn't give you the answers you wanted. Some hero you are."
Terra took a few steps backwards, and then took off running, ashamed of his own actions. Vanitas watched him run and, when he couldn't see the Keyblade warrior anymore, walked over to you and knelt, examining your wound. He held his hand over the gory hole in your chest, muttered a simple "heal", and it didn't hurt as bad. He then took off his mask, revealing his face that you had never seen. He had spiky hair that was even darker in hue than his mask, and golden eyes that twinkled in resonance with the stars in the sky above his head. "It's gonna be alright. I won't let anyone hurt you again."