[The communicator clicks on to a hand pressing down on it, as though trying to push it into the ground. There's a moan, soft, pained, and then the dark is cleared away, centering in on a shoulder. It lifts and so does the body attached to it, Roxas slowly beginning to stand.
And just as quickly as he does, he collapses again onto the ground, knocking into the communicator. It rolls onto its side and onto his hand again, blacking out the screen. Again, the image is cleared as he gets up again, dragging the device to his knees. Briefly, his eyes meet the screen, blue hazy and lost.
He stares down at the screen, sighs, and stands, taking the communicator with him.]
Where...?
[And then, a longer pause, slowly awakening to a much more important question.]
...Who am I?
[The post times out.]
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