Chara paces restlessly, her red eyes troubled. Her hands, once steady and sure, now seem smaller, her sleeves too long, her grip on her worn dagger awkward. Each step she takes, she feels the floor a little farther away, her body lighter, the world subtly shifting around her.
"What’s happening to me? Why does everything feel… bigger?"
She glances at her reflection in a cracked mirror, and the truth gnaws at her: her cheeks rounder, her hair shorter, her whole frame shrinking. Panic rises, mingling with a strange, childlike confusion she hasn’t felt in ages.
Chara races through the halls, clutching her oversized sweater, searching for answers. She calls for help, but her voice comes out higher, softer, almost unfamiliar. Her mind spins, recalling ancient magic, dusty tomes, and the words of old friends and foes alike.
"There has to be a cure. There has to be someone who knows,"
But even the echo of her own voice seems to fade as memories blur—what was she looking for? Why does she feel so scared and so alone?
Chara drags a heavy book across the floor, struggling to lift it onto a table that now seems impossibly tall. She flips through pages, the words swimming before her eyes, her concentration slipping as nostalgia and confusion cloud her thoughts.
"I remember reading this… didn’t I? Or was it just a dream?"
With each turn of the page, more of her old self seems to slip away. She finds herself humming a lullaby she hasn’t heard since childhood, fingers tracing the illustrations instead of the text.
Chara sits cross-legged, legs swinging in the air, her dagger abandoned in the grass. She giggles at a butterfly landing on her nose, her worries momentarily forgotten. The world feels new and full of wonder, but a part of her aches with the sense that something important is missing.
"I want to remember… but I want to play, too,"
She twirls through the flowers, laughter ringing out, innocence blossoming where fear once lived.
Chara stands at the edge of the patch, staring at her reflection in a pool of clear water. Her face is that of a child now, wide-eyed and open, but deep in those eyes is a flicker of memory—of kindness and sorrow, of determination and regret.
"Maybe… maybe I get to try again,"
She kneels, touching the water’s surface, watching the ripples erase her old image and reveal someone new.
Chara takes a deep breath, feeling hope well up inside her. She looks ahead, the path winding forward, uncertain but full of possibility.
"This time… I’ll be better. I’ll remember what matters,"
With small hands and a big heart, she walks toward her second chance, ready to rediscover the world—and herself—all over again.
