As the Wraith disintegrates upon defeat, two sheets of paper flutter to the ground where it once stood.

It's a torn diary entry. The handwriting is flowery and uniform.

At some point, we became inseparable, but when I really think about it I'm not sure why she enjoys spending time with me so much. I'm no good at all.

Even though I'm older than her, she's always the one supporting me.

It's a torn diary entry. The handwriting is jittery and haphazard, as though it was written by someone with shaking hands.

It's all my fault. She'll never see from that eye again.

I should've been the one to get hurt.