[ the stalemate is not as long as xehanort assumed it would be. he makes his own moves quickly, spurred on by the roulette of thoughts in his mind that varied from completely harmless to threatening to tear him apart if the answers were as bad as he feared. the mellow atmosphere was really pulling its weight, here, to keep him grounded.

the game draws to a close, xehanort having not said a word since. there are too many pieces off the board for him to make a recovery, so he slides his remaining bishop into the only position he can. it's over. ]

It's terrifying, [ he begins, sitting back to accept his imminent defeat, ] because your memories and your heart that holds them should be thing you have the most confidence in.