Regret had been a constant companion to Sylvarie, since the events of nearly eleven years ago. Seeing the Empress now, with those distinct purple eyes, it coursed through her again as she berated herself internally. She should have told more people about her trip in the Dream Width, shared her fears that the Goddess of Death was indeed reborn. The group she had initially told were long gone, but she’d done nothing to advance that knowledge further—what a foolish girl she was.

“You told me you believed in reincarnation. You believed Sir Chandius likely wasn’t aware of why he chose us to work alongside him, and now we have memories that aren’t ours.”

A small but bitter smile twisted her lips, seeking the Empress’s eye. “You say we’re lucky, not remembering previous lives. But if everything is true, then we no longer have that luxury. You know what else we also have now?

We have the knowledge that Kalki was defeated. If this really is a repeating cycle as you say, then we’ll defeat you every time. Hope has always and continues to persist, look around you.”

Shaking her head, she breathed in as she recalled a conversation that had haunted her... yet still kept kindling comfort in its seeming innocence, all while casting Protect on herself. “‘But then when you remember another name you had or when you're given a new name, who "yourself" is becomes kinda an issue.’ Is this really what you want, ‘Ramaa’?”