With a rather sudden and abrupt motion, Ayame sits bolt upright and in a cold sweat taking fast and greedy breaths as if the air had been trying to evade her.

That was to unreal to have happened...but how could a dream be so...true to life? Or was it even that at all? She'd aged so quickly this time...and she'd died but in a way she had not...how was this possible?

Yes...it must have been a dream. She's still surrounded by the familiar equipment and sterile silver medical supplies of the laboratory. She was home, and she was safe. Or, as safe as she could've been, anyway.

"...was that really...me?" her voice is choked as she stares down at her outstretched hands in disbelief. She sounded young, like a little girl. "...that girl...that picture Luka showed me...was that...me?" The idea was now there...all she had to do was grasp it.

All of her memories had remained in place, it was only a matter of opening her mind now to grasp the concept of all that had happened.