[ Vash awakens with a jolt, his last fragmented memories a confusing blur of Wolfwood and Knives and his gate, open and reaching out. The room is unfamiliar but that barely registers -- most rooms are unfamiliar these days. What’s more important is the man sitting next to the bed, the man who is also unfamiliar in the strangest possible ways.
That’s him. Vash rubs a shaking hand over his face, absently noting the neat and snug bandages wrapped around his arm. He’d been hurt? …No, his gate, his monster, he’d… he’d tried to pull it out again. He’d tried to rip it out, because of what it did to his brother. Because of what it had shown his brother.
Knives, laughing at the Great Fall. Knives butchering the town of bandits. Knives tearing his gate open.
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That’s him. Vash rubs a shaking hand over his face, absently noting the neat and snug bandages wrapped around his arm. He’d been hurt? …No, his gate, his monster, he’d… he’d tried to pull it out again. He’d tried to rip it out, because of what it did to his brother. Because of what it had shown his brother.
Knives, laughing at the Great Fall. Knives butchering the town of bandits. Knives tearing his gate open.
He’s going to be sick. ]
Where’s Knives?