Uploaded October 2022 | Updated September 2026, 16 hours ago
This is Rion's Recollection story. This was made for archival purposes.
Timestamps:
Part 1: 01:14
Part 2: 08:32
Part 3: 16:46
Battle: 24:21
Part 4: 25:50
Story: F-H Revolutionary
On that day, the boy discovered his light anew.
He faces the tragedy his own mistakes wrought
and the foolishness of the ideals he held.
He knows the intentional, organized cruelty
of the societal structures humans establish.
Consumed by despair, the boy lost his light.
Many sneered at his dream, calling it unattainable.
But no amount of ridicule could convince him to give
up on his dream, or saving those who need help.
Rising to his feet, he flings open the door before him.
"If conflict breeds conflict...
then surely dreams must breed dreams."
Weapon Story: Anamnesis of Dawn
The path home is coated in rust. A choice. A wheeze that scrapes
the throat. Forms. Numbers. Isolated light. Even the scent of
spilled blood is as a distant memory.
Unacceptable footwear. A boast. A murmur. The wind that grazes
my cheek and light that enter my eyes are rough comfort for an
ailing heart. A voice without a face. Curtains. Upside-down
footsteps. Darkness.
I turn my back to the shadow knocking
on my door and venture down a passage unknown,
casting myself into the void. A boundary.
A buzzing sound. A light trap. It is as wondrous as it is comforting.
Words. My name. My senses. Blurry scenery.
To me, perhaps it was all nothing but a convenient sham.
But even so, I will face my mistakes, embrace my pain,
and dream a dream that soars to the sun.
This is Rion's Recollection story. This was made for archival purposes.
Timestamps:
Part 1: 01:14
Part 2: 08:32
Part 3: 16:46
Battle: 24:21
Part 4: 25:50
Story: F-H Revolutionary
On that day, the boy discovered his light anew.
He faces the tragedy his own mistakes wrought
and the foolishness of the ideals he held.
He knows the intentional, organized cruelty
of the societal structures humans establish.
Consumed by despair, the boy lost his light.
Many sneered at his dream, calling it unattainable.
But no amount of ridicule could convince him to give
up on his dream, or saving those who need help.
Rising to his feet, he flings open the door before him.
"If conflict breeds conflict...
then surely dreams must breed dreams."
Weapon Story: Anamnesis of Dawn
The path home is coated in rust. A choice. A wheeze that scrapes
the throat. Forms. Numbers. Isolated light. Even the scent of
spilled blood is as a distant memory.
Unacceptable footwear. A boast. A murmur. The wind that grazes
my cheek and light that enter my eyes are rough comfort for an
ailing heart. A voice without a face. Curtains. Upside-down
footsteps. Darkness.
I turn my back to the shadow knocking
on my door and venture down a passage unknown,
casting myself into the void. A boundary.
A buzzing sound. A light trap. It is as wondrous as it is comforting.
Words. My name. My senses. Blurry scenery.
To me, perhaps it was all nothing but a convenient sham.
But even so, I will face my mistakes, embrace my pain,
and dream a dream that soars to the sun.
