A paper boat stranded by the water side. It is unfolded to reveal a message. It seems to have drifted all the way from Inkford Hermitage.

If you find this paper boat, please help me deliver it to ■■■■ Street, 46-■■, Dovebrook District.

My dear child,

How have you been? I'm sure you're more than capable of taking care of yourself. But even so, you've gotta let me worry about you a little.

This hotel, Inkford Hermitage, turned out to be an even better place than I imagined. From the lobby manager to the other guests, most people here are pretty friendly. No one's gonna come banging down my door with a weapon in hand, and for the first time in ages, I'm sleeping in an actual soft bed. But here's the thing: I just can't fall asleep.

It's not that I'm terrified of my Wishpower running out… It's those scenes from the past that keep playing on loop in my head.

Back then, you yelled at me, “You're old and useless,” “Staying here will only ruin my plans,” insisting no sending me to this hotel. I cried looking at your face feigning heartlessness, because I was worried that you hadn't slept in ages just to afford my stay at the hotel. And for you to pull off that act so convincingly, you must've secretly practiced it countless times.

Bet you didn't see that coming. I actually knew it all along.

If I'm gone, you'll finally be free to do what you've always wanted: revitalize Dovebrook, create a sanctuary for imagenated creatures who've been through what we have.
Even though I'd hate to see you hurt others, I won't stand in your way if it really comes down to that…

Y'know what? They say Inkford Hermitage and Dovebrook District are on opposite ends of Planarcadia, but here's the kicker: The water here is actually the mainstream of Dovebrook.

I hope that waters of Dovebrook, along with those playful wispae floating downstream, can carry this letter into your hands.
Or maybe the Security Bureau will find it and pass it along to you. Either works.

Farewell, child. May the God of Elation above bring you good fortune.

• To the Sender:
The address provided in your letter turned out to be an empty house. According to the neighbors, the owner went missing years ago and remains unaccounted for to this day. A streamer took quite an interest in this case and organized an offline search event. People everywhere joined in voluntarily, hoping to find the missing homeowner or anyone who might have a clue about the letter's contents, but it all led nowhere.
We're sorry to say we'll be sending your letter back via the wispae that delivered it.
(The postmark on this letter is now several decades old.)