* You find yourself in a garden. Flower beds surround you, elaborate designs etched into them that only one of the Underground would recognize. There's only one plant in this garden, however. Golden flowers spring up from the soil everywhere you look. Buttercups, the dream tells you, not to be confused with cups of butter.
* There's nothing to do here but walk through the flowers. Eventually, the flower beds change. They're houses, roads, footpaths, schools, shops, all of them are covered from every inch in these bright yellow flowers, but it's real. It's all real. As real as anything could be in a world fabricated by man.
* It's hard to know what came first, really, were the buildings built to help the flowers grow? Or did the flowers create the buildings? What is this place? You think you pass familiar faces - the few that either of them would recognize, and when they look at you, they see a stranger. Paul, Lysithea, Illarion, Beatrice, Kaworu, Asriel, familiar empty eyes that watch you like a hawke or perhaps glimmer with a hint of red or blue.
* They all go about their day, living lives that can't be touched anymore, by anyone. Not you, not the human. And the fallen human can be found in the middle of this town of flowers, sitting upon a throne of flowers, the vines binding them to the extravagant chair of a king, digging into their skin, tying around their throat.
* They watch you as you approach, in the same way a weary god would watch an asteroid come crashing down on their creation. Apathy.
Chara speaks up when L is finally close enough to hear them, their voice both impossibly old and unmistakably young.]
v.
* But nobody came.
* You find yourself in a garden. Flower beds surround you, elaborate designs etched into them that only one of the Underground would recognize. There's only one plant in this garden, however. Golden flowers spring up from the soil everywhere you look. Buttercups, the dream tells you, not to be confused with cups of butter.
* There's nothing to do here but walk through the flowers. Eventually, the flower beds change. They're houses, roads, footpaths, schools, shops, all of them are covered from every inch in these bright yellow flowers, but it's real. It's all real. As real as anything could be in a world fabricated by man.
* It's hard to know what came first, really, were the buildings built to help the flowers grow? Or did the flowers create the buildings? What is this place? You think you pass familiar faces - the few that either of them would recognize, and when they look at you, they see a stranger. Paul, Lysithea, Illarion, Beatrice, Kaworu, Asriel, familiar empty eyes that watch you like a hawke or perhaps glimmer with a hint of red or blue.
* They all go about their day, living lives that can't be touched anymore, by anyone. Not you, not the human. And the fallen human can be found in the middle of this town of flowers, sitting upon a throne of flowers, the vines binding them to the extravagant chair of a king, digging into their skin, tying around their throat.
* They watch you as you approach, in the same way a weary god would watch an asteroid come crashing down on their creation. Apathy.
Chara speaks up when L is finally close enough to hear them, their voice both impossibly old and unmistakably young.]
Did you know corpses make excellent fertilizer?