[She's not a creature he's all too familiar with himself, even with the vague, disjointed memories both this world, and the conscious world could offer him.

But he's alright with that.

Different species, different people, outsiders, Vullards - each was different, and yet the same in their own, personal way. Something deep in the back of his mind, a fragment of his old self, warns him not to be so close. Though it's easy to pack away in the presence of someone who truly, genuinely wanted to be part of a good cause.

Slowly, he releases his grip, sitting back on his knees to watch the tar slowly start to eviscerate. Though it's still spreading like wildfire, and the term fire in itself brings nothing but a haunting memory - something to drive him to help protect this world more.

Scooping up the flower in his robotic hand again, he gives the young lady a questioning gaze.

What were these flowers here for, in a plane of nothingness? Why was she here? Something bad was happening, yes, but none of it could truly add up.]