*
In the same old dream on an indistinct night, Lastia stood against that fated door once more, keeper of an unimaginable secret. Memories of her past life unfold like a recasted theatre, inevitably forgotten the next morning to meet with pure indifference. There was never a way to retain these memories, thoughts borne of a fantasy where one returns to a significant point beyond multiple lives.
In other words she had to try her best each time, to get as far as she could before she wakes up, before it all slips away. If she reaches an end birthed by dreams, will that change the status quo? She isn't certain she'll gain anything at all, but she isn't one to be deterred from trying because of that.
Above all, the door has to open. She has to step through, she must face the past. The past that ties her to Arin, the origin of her relations that begun far before she realised. Firmly, she pressed her strength into her arms. The weight of the door, the texture of its material and decor fashioned from reinforced durable elements. The scent that pervades the castle, the slight breeze dissipating in her hair. Soundlessly, the door gives in and light wanes under numerous hues, shifting and ebbing into her gaze.
Blood, the stinging pungent scent of steel and iron permeates the air. Even if her olfactory senses weren't assaulted, her sight would still tell a deeper story. A corpse upon a throne once more, how many times will she look upon this tragedy? How many times would it take to break out of the loop? To rid herself of these dreams? Is there an ending to this? Was there ever a goal to reach for?
Immense helplessness invades her heart, crushing it under the foot of despair. A tragedy from the past especially this many years back couldn't be changed. As if her goal was to shift an immovable mountain, but she lacked the strength to do so, that was how she felt as her determination was shredded to bits in front of her. There was no chance to change the ending, because she was the product of this ending, a consequence of a tragedy.
The mere sight tore her resolve from her, told her that she could never win, never change what had happened here. Made her feel powerless, unable to change the outcome, unable to achieve anything of value. No! She inhaled sharply, stimulating her cognition with a dull pain in her lungs. This was a dream of the past, it was vital to gain intelligence rather than dwell in the in cited emotions.
Arin was clear enough, her indecision told Lastia everything she needed to know. Arin couldn't make up her mind, it's because she might get in Lastia's way if she were aware of her efforts. In other words, this was a solo mission. One contained in a dream, one that's automatically purged right after, neither party would ever find out if she dreamt of the past again. Her objective is clear then, reach deeper into the dream, into the past. Grasp Intel with her own hands, penetrating the mysteries further than ever.
She walks into the throne. Before she died to The Calamity, her dream always ended as the door opened. This much, she knew, because back then she could at least remember that much after repeating the same dream as her other incarnations. What prompted this drastic change, what allowed her to enter the throne room? The largest most blatant difference is that the current Lastia has 'died' once. Rather, it was rare for her incarnation to be born with the magical girl gene awakened, it was only this singular life that she became a magical girl in the Era of Abundance.
"I see, it's because I'm different, this time I grew to S grade after [assimilation]." (Lastia)
She spoke aloud to no one in particular, but her eyes betray her aloof act. She was intently scanning her surroundings for an enemy, moving her body with the intent to fight at any moment. She hypothesised that her dreams ended early because the Lastia in the dream was killed. How obsessive... Likely the result of a mystical artifact place by her predecessor... Still, to make the dream occur and adapt independently to each Lastia, it's a nasty and tightly secured lock on her past life memories placed by herself from a previous era.
Unless she was above a certain level, she would never have reached this far into the throne, this close to reaching the truth of the past. The conception of everything, 'this knowledge might spark chaos in the next era and any future beyond that', these were likely the thoughts borne by her predecessor. Ensuring a certain level of strength is needed to regain these memories, meant that that level of strength was needed to survive. Conversely the danger might never come if she doesn't learn of the Intel, the circumstances make it sound like forbidden knowledge that could destroy the world.
Footsteps, faint but firm. They have heels but they don't click against the ground obnoxiously, it's a warrior, a person attuned to traversing in silence to route the enemy. Could be an assassin, could be any creature, regardless they are someone who is capable. Capable enough to kill an ordinary Lastia who lacks magic powers.
"{Envy}." (Lastia)
"{Wrath}." (?)
Two opposing lights, crimson and grape purple crash into the air, sparking a shock wave that spread light scratches across the walls and floor. The throne room itself was reinforced with arcane methods so it could withstood nuclear bombs and remote curses. Only an S grade and above could scratch it, and it wasn't with a conservative amount of strength.
The lights clashed once more, tearing the entire room into two halves with kinetic force, cleaving the air apart with a persisting vacuum. She couldn't see the enemy's appearance, but she has been sensing their presence for a while... Ever since she entered the room. The other party couldn't hide their existence, she didn't know what they looked like but she knew they were here. The murderer of the queen...
It wasn't so simple. How did that person get this far? Consider the material this room is made out of, how was it that the ruler could remain defenceless? They certainly lived with caution hammered into their lifestyle, the only way {Wrath} could get in... Sabotage. Someone in the inner circle of the kingdom turned traitor.
She could remain calm now as 'Lastia', but how did her predecessor truly felt about it? Did she restrain herself? The lights clashing in the centre explode into a thick cloud of dust, obscuring the entire throne room. Her vision grows muddled as her legs and chest lost their strength. Oxygen deprivation, an immediate brain death? So that's how it worked last time...
Her conscious gradually slipped into the darkness.