First, the girl knew only darkness. She flew through the void without direction or meaning, the only sounds being the gentle flutter of gauzy wings, and her own soft breath in her ears. She did not know for how long she'd been traveling, but time did not carry meaning now. In her presence, it broke the basic restrictions of the universe, no longer a dimension, but a tool to be wielded in order to achieve her ultimate purpose, unaware as she was to what that might be. For now, she had only the mission that she had been tasked with, and the duties that it entailed. She was not the master of this misson, to be certain. Rather, she was a servant charged with the responsibility of seeing it to it's completion, a maid, if you will.
The girl peered into the blackness, scanning the featureless landscape for what she knew couldn't be all that far off. Her last stop had been a brief one, but full of memories. The faces of the dead were ever present in her progression, even more so since her journey had been nearing it's completion. It was her duty to observe them and learn what she could from the people they had been, as well as those they might of been had things proceeded differently. She knew their presence should sadden her, but for whatever reason, it did not. Sadness was an emotion reserved for the years passed, and one she had not felt since the time of her revival.
As she ruminated on this, the girl noticed a faint light, flickering on the edge of her vision. She moved toward it eagerly, drawn like a moth to a flame. As she neared it, the light grew larger, expanding across her field of vision like a transparent, shimmering sun. It was no sun, however; the girl knew it's true name and nature. A dream bubble. She drew closer, skimming her hand across its surface. It was light, almost insubstantial, and she could see movement inside, shapeless figures and bright sunbursts of color slipping and sliding across each other, like raindrops on oil, or ripples on a pond. The girl had seen plenty of them her travels through the furthest ring, enough to know that it was not a question of what it was, but a question of whose. She stretched out her hands, spreading her fingers wide across the bubble's smooth, buoyant surface, and gently, with the precision of someone who had done it a thousand times, she pushed.
The bubble quivered, swallowing her as she was a part of it, letting her slide smoothly through it, almost as if she was brushing aside a curtain. There was a moment of slight turbulence and a disorienting spinning sensation, as the girl's environment shifted around her. Suddenly she was standing on a craggy peak, overlooking a barren wasteland. The sky was dark and devoid of stars, though two moons glimmered brightly through a veil of clouds, high and full in empty sky. Her flyaway charcoal hair brushed skin like burnt embers, and a pair of impossible red-gold horns spiraled from her brow. Aradia Megido stared up at the sky of her decimated homeland, and, unable to help herself, she smiled.