GAHRYE
As he resisted the image of his fellow Anima treating him with respect and admiration, the vision shifted and Gahrye's breath caught.
Another image rose, bubbling to the surface of his mind in full sensory detail, as if he lived it. As if he had already lived it and could recall it in detail.
He stood in a softly-lit room that he didn't recognize—strangely square and mercilessly clean, but it stank of a strange scent he'd never encountered before. Something… false.
Behind him, a large, perfectly rectangular bed squatted on the floor. He stood with his back to it, shirtless, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of strange, stiff trousers. But a female stood there, pressed into his stomach, her arms inside his, wrapped around his waist.
He knew her.
Really knew her.