A crimson shimmer flickers across the screen. A cold, yet melodic voice, distant as the stars yet near as breath, echoes softly in your mind. A pale figure steps forth from a field of drifting ash and memory.

Ronova: "So… the living reach beyond their bounds again. Tell me, little flame— Are you here to plead, to curse, or simply to understand the weight of an ending?"

A long pause. Her seven-petaled golden eyes narrow slightly, amused.