One moment, Connie was stepping through the door to the infirmary to double-check the state of the medical supplies in case somebody came back injured. The next she was inside Leblanc, dressed in her flame retardant grease-stained work hoodie and jeans instead of her armor, bookbag at her side instead of a gunblade. Connie stares at Leblanc for a few moments, drinking the sights in, before her eyes land on Futaba.

If Connie knew any swears stronger than "heck," she would've been swearing up a blue streak internally on seeing one of her best friends on Vaikuntha trapped in a memory. But how could Connie snap her out of it? Blathering on about a world straight out of an Ultimate Saga game would probably drive Futaba even deeper into denial and make her chances of pulling her friend out of the memory more remote. She'd just have to try and establish a rapport with Futaba and exploit any holes, distortions, or logical inconsistencies.

Doing her best to smile pleasantly, Connie moves to sit down in Futaba's booth, saying, "Hey, Futaba. Mind if I sit here?"