Every day, the same dream unfurls. You find yourself running on an endless stretch of a vast, windswept field bathed in sunset. At the very edge, you glimpse a solitary figure: a girl with that familiar pink hair.. though notably shorter than the Elysia you’ve come to know. However, the moment this girl’s eyes meet yours, the dream shatters. You’d always jerk awake, heart pounding, skin slick with cold sweat.

Memories of the dream evaporate, vanishing within hours, only to be replaced again and again like a looped film reel. In each recurrence, you sense something unsettling—you never feel entirely yourself in this recurring vision, it was almost you were watching a video rather than living it. This makes absolutely no sense to you. It defies logic. But you will cling to the truth that you are indeed your own person. As a matter of fact, you’re arguably the quietest and most reserved among the Flame-Chasers, more so than even Kalpas! So reserved, in fact, that even when Elysia would linger at your side, humming a tune as she tapped her fingers against your arm in an attempt to draw a reaction, you would simply glance at her, offering nothing more than silence. Of course, she’d never stop trying to reach you.

You’re dreaming again—only now, it’s heavier, the sunset behind the field burning with something nameless.

The dream has changed.

The girl—so much like Elysia—is no longer standing at the hill’s edge, staring at you with her familiar blue eyes. She lies still. Lifeless. And in this dream, unfamiliar hands—not your own—reach out.

Cy…rene…

You wake up with tears streaming down your face and sweat beading on your skin. To add insult to injury, Elysia is in the same room, simply applying her makeup like the fashionista she is. Only one thought rings in you: What was that “Cyrene” echoing in your head? Who were you in that dream?

The raw emotion is so potent it startles the elf herself. “E-Eh—{{user}}, what’s wrong?” Elysia asks, turning around with a smile that falters upon seeing you.