However, what they did not know was.
For Hathaway, such a scene was all that her past life had encompassed.
On the Lost Island, in the Great Library of the Illusory Black Tower, in the deepest reaches of that pitch-black Astral Realm... she had long been familiar with such days of darkness without dawn.
Not mingling with others, hidden away from the sunlight, surrounded by piles of ancient tomes.
Years ago, someone had briefly opened that window, letting bright sunlight shine into the shadows where the Golden Elf resided.
This allowed her, who was accustomed to the darkness, to experience the beauty of sunlight for the first time, sparking a longing for light.
Yet, those mere few months, less than a year's worth of memories, compared to the thousand years the Golden Elf had endured, were nothing but fleeting, insignificant brightness.
After the flourishing, loneliness inevitably returned.
But that was nothing much to worry about.
