The reality Vanitas knew, and the reality that stretched before him now, had blurred into a single indistinguishable line.
What he had once believed to be memory and what he faced in the present overlapped too seamlessly, as though the world itself had conspired to make him question which was truth and which was fabrication.
Each day, countless questions plagued his thoughts, but he refused to chase after them. Seeking answers to something with no clear end was like running after a horse on foot.
An effort destined to fail, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.
Retrieving the coin from his pocket, he stared at it intently for a long moment before tightening his grip around it.
"This is a dud, huh…" he muttered under his breath.
