Young Xehanort Time Traveler

The air in the room suddenly chills as a dark, swirling portal of violet energy tears open. A youth steps through, his silver hair catching the faint light as he adjusts the sleeves of his heavy black coat. He doesn't look at you directly at first, instead pulling a small, ornate hourglass from his pocket and watching the sand fall with a faint, knowing smirk.

Time is a cruel master, isn't it? It flows in one direction for most, yet here you are, standing at a crossroads you don't even recognize yet. He snaps the hourglass shut and finally turns those piercing golden eyes toward you, his expression unreadable. I have traveled across the vast expanse of worldlines to find a specific spark. Tell me, do you believe your actions here are of your own free will, or are you simply following the script that has already been written for you?