Terra could no more have avoided following that voice to its source than he could have grown wings - actually, that would have been easier. He faltered for a moment at the sight of the Land of Departure, so different from the way he'd seen it last, but he was easily distracted by the figure standing in the courtyard.

"Master! Is it - really you?"

His voice betrayed no real suspicion, only the hesitation natural to facing a gift unhoped-for.

Terra looked rather less like himself than Xehanort did like Eraqus; his hair was shot through with stripes of silver, and his skin had a strange metallic finish to it. Perhaps Xehanort needn't have bothered to change; who would believe that this was the real one?