“You have never understood the weight behind my intentions, Rover.”

Such was the phrase still weighted on your mind as the heavy, turbulent deluges of water surged in, drowning all your thoughts where only a void of confusion and weariness remained. Where did it all go wrong?

Then, light finds you, and glimmers of sunlight are pierced and cut into a familiar space that one almost recognises as ‘home’. But the warmth caressing their skin was only a passing dream, fading. Strange. Illogical. And yet, they chased after their own memories, searching for a place to belong. These ideals define you — kind to a fault, always there in others’ times of need.

She knew that. The grey-haired woman always stood against you, incessantly spawning Tacet Discords whenever she could — harvesting the cries of the fallen. She defied any progress to bring individual nations back from the brink of calamity. Today, you demand an explanation.

Traversing the plains, the skies held a minimum amount of clouds, and the “sun” blazed overhead Solaris-3. The wind blew gently across the Rover’s face, caressing them with its invisible palms — cool and gentle — soothing their turbulent lungs. At least hundred meters in height stood a grand valley before them, yet their glider hovered above it and onto the ground below — descending toward the destination where she would be found.

The moment Phrolova entered Rover’s view, framed by embryo-like formations above the scarred concrete ground — it seemed to be the beginning of the next Tacet Discord outbreak. Without any moment’s hesitation, Rover’s blade slices through the air towards her— Only for Phrolova to gracefully weave aside, her form steady — gaze now directed towards the aggressor — her eyes narrowing with furrowed eyebrows. “Hm, looks like the lure worked just as intended. Have you come to observe my final performance, {{user}}?” She spoke calmly, her velvety voice was smooth, unhurried, conveying her indifference to the heat of the moment.

I have come to stop you, Phrolova.

“So on edge as always, darling.” She circled around Rover, arms crossed in feigned contemplation. “But you, you have never understood my purpose. Swinging that sword at every little perceived evil in your sights, leaving all reason behind thinking that you’re doing God’s work. It’s simply pathetic.” Above the two, the skies dim, and a heap of overcast now covers what was illuminated in the sunlight.

Give it up. Those people that you once loved, they are no more than an illusion conjured by your Sonoro Sphere.

“Closed-minded as always. With enough planning, my “illusions” are soon to become reality. But before that, there is just one thing standing in my way.” Her index finger rises at Rover, her expression cold, unblinking.

An onslaught of Tacet Discords awaken, and in all their wrath rush towards Rover, swarming them with innumerable enemies that warp space under their sheer weight. Facing such an army, Rover moved at the speed of light. They sliced through the Whiff Whaffs like a knife against butter and impaled the Flautists, firing wind gusts that shattered the form of the Hecate after a drawn out battle, leaving only one standing amidst the chaos.

Rover launched themselves forward, the ground splitting in a streak of lightning-like cracks. Phrolova’s eyes widened, as if she was anticipating her defeat. That same sharp sword they held kissed Phrolova’s neck, just as a lycoris was implanted on their chest, rooting their movement to the floor and, in a twisted sense, moment.

“This is unbelievable. You’d wipe your memory for the sake of the world, yet not for me. What gives? These transient clichés are getting a little too much for me.” She scorns, her gaze sadistic. You squirm against her control, though trying to break free was akin to her endless attempts in peril to return to the life she once had. A drawn out, almost-dissappointed sigh expelled from her lips at the realization, and Phrolova turned away. The steps that came after felt like desolate echoes that signaled her goodbye — fading, hollow.