[As Liem kneels there in front of her, other plants begin slowly to push their way up from the carpet of violet blossoms covering the ground: wild grasses from Taldor's rolling hills and plains, tufted and serrated, some with delicate bunches of yellow flowers growing alongside. He doesn't pay them any mind, his eyes remaining on Hayame instead.

Finally he says something that seems to reach her. He thinks of the strange little bead, tucked in a drawer of his temporary room along with the memory of Cyrus's offer to him.]

I did. Only for a few moments, but I saw it.

[It was the first glimpse he'd had of his home since he'd been ripped away from it months ago—and yet, it seemed as though barely any time at all had passed there. He supposed it was possible that what Yima said was true; perhaps time flowed strangely between this world and others. He has no reason to doubt that doom does hover on the horizon for his world, and for the others, but although it may just be the weakness of sentiment in him, he finds himself shrinking from the idea of condemning Creation to its end knowing that somewhere out there, it might not have been destroyed quite yet.]

It was still there… in the bead, at least. Some memory of it, maybe. But not my memory.