In where there is no battle, no celebration, no funeral. Where there is no joy, no pain, and no regret. There is only nostalgia, and something akin to longing for that world which has become no more than a whisper in your mind.
There was a time, where you would come home and do nothing but fight. You were the proud Sorceress, and yet you were still the loyal Cleric. You were both the nimble Archer and the sturdy Warrior. Your name would be forever remembered, and you were looked upon as one of the six heroes. But they never knew the truth.
For there were never four different heroes who belonged in four different classes and had four different abilities and were four different people, for there was only one the whole time. That was you.
But yet, at the same time, all four were their own separate entities.
It is a strange thing, this world you play in. For you can be four different people and still be you at the same time—you are the puppet-master, the ones pulling the strings. You know how everything goes, and you control them, and they are you.
But you are not the Archer, the Sorceress, or even the Warrior or Cleric…you are only a normal civilian. You have no supernatural powers, nor can you defy the laws of physic.
You were never as arrogant as the Sorceress, or as loud as the Warrior.
Not as fast as the Archer, and hardly as loyal as the Cleric.
Because you may be all four heroes of Altera—but in the end, you are still you.
Yes, I mean you, the normal, everyday schoolgirl or boy. The one who sleeps at night, hoping to truly be a hero…or the one who just stares and wishes that life was…different.
And it is the harsh reality that this is life and it doesn't get any more different that breaks you.
And as the window closes, and the program uninstalls, you feel something close to guilt.
And that feeling stays with you until time goes on and your character—which you were sure you would never forget—is forgotten.
And time goes on.