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…
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≻≻≻ 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

A long, long time ago…

“Mem…“
”?”
Hehe, what a mysterious encounter to start our story with.
…

“Travel, like. With you, together?”
“Memories… collect. Piece together, whole.”
We embark on the journey, and write about those years of Flame-Chasing with the Chrysos Heirs.

With the weaver, weave time into gold.
Beneath the lance of Strife, warriors of Kremnos blazed a brilliant path forward with blood and flames.
If time were a flower, the Holy Maiden created a thousand fragrant tomorrows.
For the truth, the sage shall cast his life to flames. A gentle embrace, at least, makes farewells a little more beautiful.
When evernight descends upon Okhema, as the physician and cat look up at the sky, perhaps they share but one simple wish: long may rainbows adorn the sky, as lies dance on the breeze.

At that final destination, we bid farewell to Aedes Elysiae's dream scented in wheat.
Like the combustion of dawn, the blank hero stands against the ashen sky as daybreak rises from your shoulders.

Countless memories awakened me in the moment of Era Nova.
Like the thirty million cycles before, it is still filled with sacrifice and sorrow. But this time, because of you, it was bathed in a warm light.
You inherited the divine authority of Worldbearing, and I settled in the heart of the Time demigod.
From the past to the present, we can finally step forward into the future.

In the epoch etched in golden blood, that entity, considering themself as a god, receives their due punishment for the first time.
Explore, understand, establish, and connect.
Ah, when that child of Remembrance threatened to drown the world, I witnessed once again the resolve of the Trailblaze.
The destiny of Amphoreus is no longer a futile cycle. It has become inextricably linked with the faith to move forward.

At the end of the story, all the Flame-Chasing heroes joined hands to face the headless giant of Destruction…
With the love of thirty million worlds, everything that was destroyed transformed into a page of Pure Land, reborn from our memories…

Hehe, it's been such a long, long journey. I wish we could just wrap up this story with a perfect ending right here.
But you know, my “love” isn't perfect, and it's not the answer to everything. But together, we can do anything, right? ♪

If… “love” shatters in order to have an embrace, would it transform into the world's “light”?
Perhaps it's a stroke of wistful loss, but those countless rays of light will surely write an ending unlike any before for this world we so deeply love. ♪

— A story written by Cyrene and the Trailblazer

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