"Silence!"
Hedonia claps her hands to regain their attention. "We need to know why we are here and why the people who were supposed to be dead are now alive! I would really appreciate it if the people I killed stay dead." A man with raven hair and grey eyes decides to ask. Hedonia snorts at that.
"Well, that, I can agree with. To address your inquiries, all of you are here because Project Heavenly Chance has been successfully completed. The main objective of the project is to reset the universe, encompassing the entire multiverse, to restore the balance of good and evil. Additionally, it aims to rectify the mistakes of the previous generations. So, by resetting the cosmic order, the deceased will come back to life, with the assistance of Khaos and the Fates. All of you are here to live another life because, apparently, you all deserve a second chance—although I beg to differ. Don't mind me; it's a personal opinion."
In the realm of questions, another voice arose, seeking the truth's price in this cosmic rebirth. Hedonia's gaze found familiarity in the white, fluffy-haired figure, a specter of nostalgia that widened her eyes. Closing her eyes, she took a breath, grappling with memories. A pink-haired youth ventured another question, pondering the resurrection of those stained by darkness.
"Why resurrect the nefarious?" he asked, his query echoing through the hall. Hedonia, still focused on the white-haired man, replied, "For the balance of evil, and for the second chance that even those steeped in shadows might deserve, as ordained by the Fates."
Addressing the albino man directly, she cautiously posed, "Might you be Mr. Kim, Kim Hongjoo?" The man affirmed his identity, prompting a sharp intake of breath from Hedonia. Averting her gaze, she sought to clarify their connection. "Are we familiar, perhaps through the threads of assignments to my universe?" A shake of her head dismissed that notion. "No, we are strangers. However, there exists someone who once held knowledge of your universe. Mr. Kim, do the echoes of time still carry the name Lana within your memories?" At the mention of that name, Kim Hongjoo's countenance shifted, his dark sunglasses failing to conceal the deep frown etched on his face.
In the tapestry of revelations, Hedonia danced with secrets, her chuckle a melody of knowledge. The tension in Kim Hongjoo's frame echoed the suspense, and his inquiry cut through the air like a blade. "How do you know that name?" he questioned, each word laced with a subtle venom. Hedonia, the orchestrator of revelations, met his gaze again.
"I know her. Truly and intimately. And I know the role you play in her tale," she declared, inviting the shadows of the past to dance in the present. Kim Hongjoo, gripped by the strings of curiosity and concern, demanded, "Where is she?" Hedonia, the mistress of unveiled truths, teased, "Ah, such concern befits a father. Yet, did anyone from your universe fathom the existence of a daughter within the corridors of your story?"
A symphony of gasps, yells, and surprised expressions adorned the hall. The reactions painted Hedonia's canvas with the colors of satisfaction. Kim Hongjoo, after a moment of silence, admitted, "No. They don't." Hedonia, the maestro of revelation, embraced the moment with a smug smirk. "Figures. Well, the cat is out of the bag, isn't it?" she uttered, leaving the room resonating with the echoes of a clandestine family connection.
"Teacher, you have a daughter?"
"This manchild has a daughter? With who?"
"That woman must be insane. Whoever she was."
Amidst the tumultuous questioning from Kim Hongjoo's three astonished students, another voice chimed in. "How could I not know about this? Hong?" The voice belonged to another woman, dark long brown hair framing her face with a beauty mark beneath her eyes and a set of pronounced eyebags. Her inquiry was followed by a chorus of additional questions from various onlookers, including a tall figure with long, dark hair tied into a half bun—an outsider curious about the unfolding spectacle.
Hedonia, reveling in the chaos she'd orchestrated, decided she had indulged in enough entertainment. Redirecting her focus to the entire audience, she declared, "So, please wield this second chance wisely, and beware—I-Landers are omnipresent. Don't even entertain the notion of engaging in unsavory activities here. You're free to pursue your desires, and each family is endowed with a home and all the necessities of humanity. Fear not the constraints of finances; you're welcome to work here as well."
In the midst of the swirling chaos, her words resonated, a poetic proclamation within the cosmic theater she'd orchestrated.
"Pray, elucidate the genesis of this cosmic drama," the long-haired man inquires, seeking answers within the tapestry of the unfolding revelation.
A sardonic smile adorns Hedonia's countenance. "Ah, the curiosity blooms at last! I was almost convinced silence had become the chosen symphony. But fear not, for the unraveling of this grand tapestry awaits its time. As for the cost of this serendipitous rebirth," she jests, her words dripping with playful mockery, "it comes not without its due. Blood and soul are the tender, though completed is this mysterious transaction. Be grateful, embrace this gift, and follow the cosmic symphony of rules set forth."
The detective manchild, with closed eyes yet perceptive demeanor, ventures forth. "Pray tell, what currency paid this cosmic debt?"
"Ah, a saga spun from the strands of fate and the essence of existence. The blood, sweat, tears, and souls of certain souls have constructed the scaffolding of your happiness and newfound chances. A testament to sacrifices made for the dance of destinies. Take it for granted, for such is the ephemeral nature of cosmic bargains." Amidst this cosmic ballet, Kim Hongjoo steps forward, a figure amidst the multitude, ready to navigate the intricate threads of fate.
In the symphony of the cosmos, Kim Hongjoo steps into the spotlight, his voice an inquiry infused with paternal concern. "Where is my daughter? Is she involved in this too?" A ripple of anticipation courses through the audience, and Hedonia, the enigmatic orchestrator of cosmic tales, casts him a sidelong glance. Exasperation sighs through her before she answers, "Glad for you to ask me that. Yes, she did get involved. Now, where she is? I shall tell you. But first, answer me this: Do you miss her?" Hesitation flits across Kim Hongjoo's face before he concedes with a nod, "I miss her."
With that, Hedonia commands the attention of the cosmic stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to weave a tale. A saga as long as the threads of fate entwining us, a tale of the sacrifices and tribulations that led us to this cosmic crossroad. If you yearn for the veritable truth, brace yourselves, for the journey is long and the revelations profound." The audience, like eager patrons anticipating the opening act of an epic play, responds with a crescendo of murmurs and yearning, each soul eager to unravel the enigma of their existence.
In the shadows, Hedonia's cadre of agents nods in collective encouragement, a silent affirmation of the cosmic odyssey about to unfold.
In the cloak of darkness, Hedonia's voice resonates like a haunting melody, her figure enigmatic in the single spotlight that cuts through the cosmic void. "Prepare yourselves, for the intricacies of this tale shall be etched not in words, but in the canvas of memories."
A white-haired boy, bearing the enigma of black lines, dares to question the method of this cosmic revelation. "Show us? How?" he queries. Hedonia, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, directs a knowing smile at Atsuki, the Japanese boy. "Atsuki-kun, do you truly believe you stand alone in wielding extraordinary abilities?"
With an orchestrated clap, the cosmos succumbs to a vast abyss of darkness, save for a singular, subdued spotlight that casts its glow on Hedonia. In the faint luminescence, she stands with a regal poise, the keeper of an arcane prowess. "I bear the gift of Memory Manipulation. A power that transcends the boundaries of recollection. I hold dominion over memories—mine and others', a maestro of modification, fabrication, suppression, influence, repair, restoration, erasure, detection, and observation."
Her voice, a sonorous incantation, reverberates through the void as she unveils the scope of her capabilities. "I can weave the tapestry of reality by altering memories, inducing confusion, wiping away recollections to shroud minds in amnesia, discerning and provoking nostalgia, and orchestrating visions that plunge the victim into the depths of psychic reverie. I can even extend my reach to share my own memories. Yet, amongst the symphony of abilities, the dance of memory restoration captivates me most—where I can pilfer, duplicate, and hoard the memories of others as fragments of cosmic remembrance."
As the cosmic stage is set, the audience finds itself on the precipice of revelation, surrounded by shadows of memories yet to be revealed.
In the cosmic theater of memories, Hedonia, the maestro of recollection, pressed her index finger against her temple, a solemn prelude to an ethereal revelation. Slowly, she orchestrated the delicate dance of astral threads, drawing forth luminescent strands from the recesses of her mind. With a grace befitting a cosmic sorceress, she cast them into the void, where they burst into a celestial fireworks display.
The cosmic audience, hushed in anticipation, witnessed the transformation of ephemeral luminosity into a radiant, undulating screen—a celestial tableau woven from the very fabric of her memories. The cosmic symphony resonated with the collective gasps and whispers of the audience as the astral display unfolded.
"Now, bear witness to a tale as ancient as the soil beneath your feet," Hedonia proclaimed, her voice a melodious invocation echoing through the cosmic expanse. The nebulous glow took form, coalescing into vivid scenes that transcended the boundaries of space and time.
In the cosmic theater, the astral projection manifested the opening act—a tale etched in the annals of existence, as timeless as the cosmos itself.