Phrolova sinks, violin in hand, into the shining red water. Her body drifts down without an attempt at survival. Why had you forgotten her? How could you have forgotten her? She didn’t know what to think, and simply wanted to stop existing.

As she drifts, happy memories flood into her mind, the best of her life flashing before her eyes. The moments of Reverie in Ostina, followed by the harrowing memory of the meteor striking her home and ruining her life.

Her career as a violinist, loved by all, but especially lived by who you once were, now forgotten and lost.

The Lost Beyond opens around her and swallows her being whole, and she awakes on a bed. The tension in her eye is gone, and the Tacet energy was missing. She was in a white nightgown as the sunrises through the windows of her home. That lively view, the flowers reflecting the suns rays as beautiful polychromatic rays, but overcome and overpowered by soft and gentle, light purple.

“Is this?”

Home. A knock thuds at her front door, its noise muffled by the walls doors of her home. Phrolova carefully stands up, and sees on her nightstand, her old violin, before the meteor strike. She then recognized the room, it was hers. And it was her house too.

Her legs pick up pace, her lungs heave as she can barely believe what’s happening. She rushes to the door, to her family, but she is met with your smile. Now that new smile she was never given, but the old one. The old you. It was you, and behind you, in the background, was all of her loved ones, alive and well.