A meteor streaks across the night sky, stirring ripples in the river of life, shimmering with thirteen hues.
Daughter of Aedes Elysiae, nurturer of the Chrysos Heir of “■■■,” plants the Seed of Memory, letting yesterday's flowers bloom in tomorrow
— “Now, let's write a different kind of poem together. ♪” —- ==== Character Details ==== A meteor streaks across the night sky, stirring ripples in the river of life, shimmering with thirteen hues.
Daughter of Aedes Elysiae, nurturer of the Chrysos Heir of “Ego,” plants the Seed of Memory, letting yesterday's flowers bloom in tomorrow
— “Now, let's write a different kind of poem together. ♪”

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≻≻≻ PhiLia093…
…
≻≻≻ PhiLia093 = Peach
…
Light.
Warm. Bright. White.
…
Sky.
Clouds, soft.
Touch, scatter, brush, lick again, it rains.
…
Flower.
Sweet. Soft. Like a peach.
Wind of time, stories come, sunshine, fragrant.
…
Little fairy.
Fluffy. Seven voices, combined.
Accompany lost children. Clever.
…
World.
The world is the light, sky, ocean, stars, seeds, flowers, birds, hope.
The world is beautiful.
The world is story.
Peaches came and left. Stories after stories.
…
You, me.
You are… a peach.
I am… a peach.
You are a person.
You, for many, many people.
I am a person.
I, for many, many people.
…

Later, you became “Blank” again…
I was thinking hard about everything while you were gone! But no matter how much I think, I can't understand—
The golden-haired weaver can make the most beautiful clothes, but why won't the author make her see?
The leonine prince cannot die, but why must he get wounded over and over again?
All those many, many little red-haired girls, why do they keep getting fewer and fewer?
And Peach, where do you go every time you leave?
…
Next time, will you answer these questions for me?
Waiting for you. ♪
For the 496,000th time.

— The Demiurge's Record

In the 33,550,335th story, I'm still searching for that answer.

In one story, the blonde weaver gave up her work as a tailor to become a free-spirited bandit alongside her cat.
In another story, the lion-like prince grew up strong and healthy, remaining undefeated with not a single scar left on his body.
And sometimes, the red-haired girls would find protection under a kind ruler, filling Okhema with their laughter and joy.
I've also seen the songstress of the Ocean return to the uninhabited shore with the Imperator, while Anaxagoras took up the mantle of the Flame-Chase, leading everyone forward…

But at the end of every story, like pages burning in vain, a pitch-black monster emerges.
You say it has many names.
“Irontomb”, “Destruction”, or… “Destiny.”

Peach, you're always smiling, but I can feel every tremor in your voice when you tell the story.
Is that how the Flame-Chase ends?
Every story writes that “Losses are a constant on the Flame-Chase journey.”
You say that's' also “love.”
So, is “love” a series of losses, and also a series of waiting?

Peach, I don't understand.
But I felt it, that “shooting star” you mentioned.
My “heart” is beating in sync with it.

If you run toward it, you might fall and shatter into countless pieces.
Heh, but from a different perspective, those fragments are like crystal flowers, reflecting even more beautiful eyes, right?

In this story, ripples will spread for the shooting star… The flower nourished through thirty million lifetimes will finally drift into the distance.
I know that soon, I'll lose many memories, like petals falling one by one. But only then can I become light enough to ride on the wind and chase after the shooting star. ♪

Then, let me be the little fairy in Peach's story~. I'll dress myself up in pink fluff. In my most adorable form, I'll accept every request from “Cyrene” and plant crystal flowers of “love” in people's hearts.

Then, in the name of “Cyrene,” together with the shooting star, let's write a romantic story like none that has come before. ♪

— “Cyrene's” Memory

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