Two robed figures stand amidst a semi-circle of pillars surrounding a statue. To call it a room would be a struggle. It seems to float in a void of swirling black clouds and purple light. One is a blond male with very dark skin while the other a fair skinned woman with dark hair.

The latter, for those who have seen Gaia before, might be considered... related? Perhaps not an 'older' version of the girl in question, exactly. But she's definitely an older person. Certainly familiar in some ways.

"Oh, Lohgrif, how long has it been... How long have I dreamed of this day," speaks the man. His voice warm and gentle.

The woman turns her head away.

"Is that you, Mitron? Forgive me, I didn't recognize you..." But 'Lohgrif' does look Mitron's way again and gestures in an apologetic manner. "In my defense, my memories have only recently been restored. My mind is still a little hazy."

It's clear there's no need for that apology though. Mitron understands. But then he too experiences the same thing time and again. That they go through time and again.

"Hardly surprising. No matter how many times we are reborn, it is disorienting to have everything change around you." But then he smiles warmly. "Even so, I immediately recognized your resplendant soul. And I cling to the hope that one day you will likewise remember mine. You always were a forgetful one."

Lohgrif sighs and turns away again while crossing her arms; an expression of feeling that anyone having a conversation with an exasperated Gaia has seen at least once. A peturbed expression but... there's absolutely no force behind it.

"I could never forget you," she says dryly. "Try as I might." She holds her pride for a moment more.

"But tell me," Lohgrif begins as she glances back Mitron's way. "What do you know of my past? I admit, my memory may... need refreshing."

Mitron nods before looking up at the statue they stand near the base of. As Lohgrif follows the direction of his gaze, the man opens his mouth.

"ARTE!" A very Gaia protest breaks in, "What are you doing!?" The scene very abrupt and suddenly focuses again on more Trench-like surroundings. A warm kitchen with possessions strewn about being either used or repaired or cooked; despite progress on the rest of her home over the months, she still has a habit from the winter hardship to use the kitchen near the hearth as her common area. Her omen focuses on the dismayed teenager's features. Dismayed and... maybe a trifle embarrassed?

"What was that?"

"I... don't know? It came from you, I think. But..." there is certainly some confusion on the omen's part.

"I don't remember--- Wait... are you still broadcasting over the network? Shut it down, Arte!" There's also a mutter under her breath, "Oh please nobody have seen that!"