She said her name was Constance.
That was the first time I saw her. Wearing a white dress, she was fixing my hair as I had just woken up from the incubation pod.
She said her name was The Dahlia.
That was the second time I met her. During a mission, her white gloves wiped away blood stains off me... just like my sister used to do.
"Don't be afraid, I'll always be by your side."
She vanished into the depths of the sweet dream, leaving behind only a faint trace of floral fragrance.
The Planet of Festivities is full of eager Dreamchasers, yet she casually becomes a part of others' memories.
I follow the script's directions to take action, while she never took any of it seriously.
During this long banquet, she twirled along the musical stave of the Paths, seemingly unable to refuse any invitation...
She traverses through the Order's melody, yet can't resist touching the notes of Harmony. Listening to the hum of Propagation, and under destiny's playful whims, she willingly lets herself be swallowed by the shadows of Nihility, while deliberately or not... becoming entangled with the dance partner of Remembrance.
As always, her enthusiasm was intense, yet fleeting.
She said that only by putting her life on the edge of a blade could she truly feel the joy of being alive.
So, her gaze upon me was complex...
On her face, I saw pity for my inevitable death. I also saw delight, as if she had created another beautiful memory. Not to mention curiosity, to see how I would defy my destiny.
I asked her to burn away the Nameless' memories of the Finality, for those memories were far too dangerous.
With the flames from her tail, she set the Nameless' past ablaze. Yet, she smiled as she told me,
Nothing is ever truly forgotten, even through the most intense combustion.
Perhaps she has done this millions of times before.
She abandoned much, all because she was always searching for something.
Perhaps this is why she keeps attending banquet after banquet. Even as the attendees whisper and curse her as the symbol of mourning and decay. Few remember that mourning is a tribute to life, that withered things once had their moment of glory.
— A certain Stellaron Hunter's distorted memory