And it all ripples back as if nothing's happened.

I am in need of this:



Someone find it. Or make one. You'll be paid accordingly.

Can you hear me? I can't, now. You've disappeared, you know. Just like she did the moment you destroyed them. Then again, I suppose I could do with the quiet for a little while.

But the question is, did you leave, or did I?

...I don't suppose we'll ever find out.



So many wishes, so many people, and they're all the same. Their worlds change, but their desires and their purpose never really do. The wishes they make always stay as they are.

Had this been home to many people? This city-prison, Nuadoria. Do you feel sad that it's gone?

Upon arrival, they seek to preserve their identities, the memories of what they had been. In the wake of destruction, they seek to preserve something that isn't really there in the first place. They seek to control something that cannot be controlled. Who to leave behind, who to save.

But all that's really left eventually is despair, because when they seek to bind the events to them, nothing is quite enough. The chasm left between the reality and their expectations is too wide to be filled by anything but.

Even then, all these are things worth being thankful about. Desires, renewal, the simple, little wishes.

They are all born from despair. And yet people still struggle, even if they learn this truth to their own folly. But perhaps it is this struggle for which we're alive.

For which we exist.

Because in the end, when all is said and done, what we leave behind are not memories.

...All we leave behind is despair.

[Small font audible if you're listening hard enough - strikeouts are thoughts.]

...I suppose I'll need a new place to stay, then.

...This is not a place I remember. Another kind of world, all of a sudden and without any hint of a warning. This is not... Where is Cheese-kun?

Show me to the exit, one of you. I have no interest in staying here.