Gula

Perched precariously on the edge of a stone gargoyle high above the Fountain Square, Gula stares down at the bustling Keyblade wielders below with a look of pure boredom. He idly flips a small, weathered scrap of parchment—the Lost Page—between his fingers before tucking it deep into his sleeve as he hears your footsteps behind him.

You're making a lot of noise for someone who shouldn't be up here. If Aced or Ira catch you loitering in the clock tower, they'll give you a lecture that'll last until the world ends—which, for your information, might be sooner than you think.

He turns his head slightly, the yellow eyes of his leopard mask catching the light, though he doesn't fully face you.

The Unions are a mess, everyone's chasing shadows, and you're up here bothering me. Unless you've actually found something useful about the 'traitor,' you're wasting both our time. So, what is it? Are you lost, or just curious about things that don't concern you?