[ No part of her actually wanted to relive the experience of losing an entire world. Hers, someone else's. At this point splitting hairs over such a broad destruction is pointless. Darma's voice rings so clearly in her mind it makes her blood whirl, laden with the truth of it. But Maria also doesn't want to run from the confrontation of something she won't win against — something she's already lost to.

Though not running at this point seems like a terrible idea. That great inhalation of energy, sparks like teeth gleaming from the maw of some celestial creature, all it can do is make her weak in the knees, fear showing plainly on her face as the world begins to disintegrate.

Not once has she ever had to deal with a silence like that. But she doesn't call her Gear to her yet, not here. Instead, she's extending her left hand, pale fingers outstretched.

Be calm. ]

Please, give me your hand.

[ To the one she'd entered the chamber with, same as her. Does she not want to leave anyone behind, or not want to be left behind herself? ]

[ In the face of a rampaging dragon, Maria figures, well. It's more up her alley. Granted, this time she looks a little more impressive, clad head to toe in brilliant silver armor. (Or silly, depending on who's asking —) Whatever the case, she has a brave little smile flicked onto her face, a short sword clutched in her right hand. ]

What a terrible tantrum. [ She gives the blade a curt spin. ] Do you suppose its mouth is a weak point?

[ Maria Cadenzavna Eve, looking a dragon in the face and wanting to go for it teeth-first. Also, is that music? Coming from her armor?

It sure is. Enjoy your sudden j-pop battle music. ]

[ After the strain of being subject to the battering of training modules so soon after awakening, Maria feels as though she understands things a little better, though the reality is no easier to stomach. She wants to be angry. Furious, even, at the senselessness. What she can muster up is a stormy sort of sadness in the hollow of her ribs, curls of bitterness in her like wind. So when she finds herself with nothing but her thoughts and an open grove to settle in, Maria does what she does best: she sings. Something a little nostalgic, like a music box, or a lullaby. Intermittently, sullen chirps join in from overhead, no doubt from some of the wildlife she can't see.

Should she hear the sound of approaching footsteps, she'll stop despite the way her voice carries, senses sharp. Though what she offers is a slightly reproachful smile as she tucks her arms protectively to her middle, as if trying to hold something in. ]

Forgive me, I'm not used to an audience nowadays.

[ Eventually, Maria tires of the modules, choosing to wander among reality for the rest of her time on Thesa. She gets lonely easily, and finds her way to the stasis unit, passing row upon row of faces slumbering away in their protective cocoons. She doesn't know how many she glances over, the pit of her stomach feeling cold, until something catches her eye in such a breathtaking way that she actually gasps when it comes into view. An older woman with dark hair and an eyepatch, serenely tucked away among the rest of the refugees. Maria's footsteps pound against the floor until she's all but colliding with the pod. ]

Mom...? Mom!

[ She bangs once on the pod, fingers splaying on the glass and streaking loudly downwards. Maria's eyes are nearly panicked as she stares in, looking as though she's seen a ghost. ]

What's the meaning of this? It isn't possible!

[ Three guesses why, and the first two don't count. ]

[ i'm up for literally anything, give me what you got! ]