The air flowed slower, each breath coming both too fast and too slow as his claws rent the air. They caught Heartless too, catching on tiny pockets of darkness and
in a way that the Keyblade didn't. Shadows boiled like smoke as Red Nocturnes pulled apart into nothingness, red crystalline hearts spiraling skyward as they were released.
The part of him that was Sora drifted. There was a certain nothingness that surrounded anti-form, like a dream or a long forgotten memory tickling his mind like déjà vu.
His body moved, destroyed, pulled Heartless apart like a Powerwild in a frenzy, but the give beneath his fingers felt the same way trying to see through fog felt; distant and cut off.
Anti-form was instinct, the little part of his brain that hungered for something that he couldn't name and tried to fill a void he wasn't conscious of.
It struck and Sora tagged along, one step out of synch with himself until it all came crashing back together.
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