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The blade spun endlessly, describing a deadly arc towards him, cutting off raindrops as easily as it had sliced the Shadows.
His hand shot out and grabbed it in one graceful movement, so careful, so timed. As if they had practiced it a million times. His gloved fingers closed around the hilt of the Keyblade and he almost felt the need to take off the blindfold and see the spectacle with his own eyes. But his mind saw enough.
One rising, one diving. Oathkeeper and Oblivion. Two sides. Two stories.
He spread his arms as he rushed down, headlong into the waiting sea of shadows. Their eyes glowed, but he could not see them. And he did not care. He had only one task.
And Oblivion was there to aid him as he landed boldly on the wet pavement, ready to engage the shadows in a deathly ballet of controlled slashes and sweeps, sprinting and spinning effortlessly.
They would find each other again. And this time, they would go together.
But for now… Oblivion would do.
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