=> Cronus: Rekindle.
[Prior to SGRUB, Aranea theorized the existence of phantom spirits. Even after death, she wanted to confirm the preexisting idea that the bubbles were only but a construct formed by the game versus any true aftermath of death. Perhaps double death was merely a fear that kept us from truly escaping the hells of the Furthest Ring, she mused.
During high and mighty rambles, you’d walk away from the Serket as she blabbered at her booth. You had no reason to believe her, nor the idea to truly care.
However, you’ve discovered plenty of things during your second ghost phase; some important, some not. Some, proven.
Ghosts are real.
Actual ghosts are real. ]
[None of this dream bubble shit counts for a pure phantom’s living arrangements. Ghosts were unsatisfied, ignored spirits, cold to the wispy touch with a hum over the horizons; they didn’t reach the afterlife until they were content with leaving. After that, well, who knows?
In the very least you were indeed never satisfied. Ignored. A fitting role.]
[You had many more questions, the expanse of what you had discovered only scratching the surface. Was this influenced by the game at all? Were there just trolls around here? How long could one remain unsatisfied?
You wonder if your brown blooded friend was around; his angular shades among many Striders were never hard to miss. That, and you doubt he died satisfied with the raging presence of the dark wizard he had hoped to defeat within an army of many.
Hell, maybe he was alive. Maybe he was still trapped in the limbo of the game’s plane. Maybe. You prefer his status to be ambiguous but hopeful.
Unlike another.]
[You had hoped to find the second brown blood who’s disappearance you mourned pathetically. Maybe he was stuck in the limbo as well. Maybe he was truly, truly gone.
Fate was urged to be hopeful, but hell if you wanted an ambiguous conclusion.
Why did he had to leave so soon like the tease of your first kiss? Why did he have to leave you waiting as did the postponing of your eventual quading? Why did you suck so much shit at this whole “saving your pals” schtick?
Saving your mates when they needed you?
You’re still left wondering, as if your unanswered responses would eventually be answered with his missed presence. Maybe one night?]
[ Your eventual demise in the far future better be as welcoming, breath taking, and pacifying as when you first dropped to the floor in a cool wisp.
The euthanization would be too kind. ]
