I hear someone call my name. The voice comes from afar, and keeps me awake. It comes at the appointed hour every night. Sometimes I wait for it at the table with a cup of coffee. I don't know if I'm hallucinating or not. I would rather believe it's some kind of signal interference. Medical gave me medicine to calm my nerves and help me sleep, but I don't actually need it. Here it is again. The voice is familiar. I go through everyone in my memory, but none match. Mother's voice is gentler. My childhood friend died of pneumonia at the age of six. As for my sister, she never called to me like that— My sister would simply gaze into my eyes, as though trying to peer into my soul, then turn around and leave... No, what was it that just came back to me? Cold air so dry it makes you sneeze. Was it Bresk? I could not forget that warm hallway. I was gazing at the Grand Duchess's back, waiting for her to emerge from the shadows, so that I could clasp those hands again. I waited a long time, but she never moved. Perhaps she only needed the people to see me walk into her palace, nothing more. Was it someone on the streets calling out to me then? No, that wasn't it. Perhaps it was in Grypherburg, from back when I walked onto the campus of the Imperial College of Science and Engineering with my acceptance letter in hand. I wasn't the only commoner to be dropped into this garden of aristocracy as a political performance, but I was the only Elafia. I stood in the courtyard, smiling at a tree they had imported from Yan at great expense. The nobles had donated five heaters for it, yet it still failed to survive even one blooming season. Was it from that time? I had picked up a white petal on the ground, but someone from an upper floor called out to me, just to laugh at the antler that I had modified into an antenna... No. I look at my empty coffee cup, my thoughts at a standstill. A face seems to be reflected in the porcelain bottom. I feel the wind and snow brush past my cheeks. It's as though I've gone back to the day I parted ways with my sister. I fell down in the snow, clasping the small intercom she had given me. I tuned it to the channel she had told me about, and opened my mouth, but didn't know what to say— Beg? Apologize? Accuse? No, none of them. There wasn't a single word on Terra that belonged to me at the time, other than my own name. 'Tishinna Viktorovna Belyaeva!' I hear my own voice, the voice I shouted with back then, twenty years later. I remember my unfinished thesis. Perhaps the signals we emit never truly disappear. They echo in the Originium particles in the air, the soil, and the water. Signals from Originium Arts may grow weaker over time, but they never truly disappear. They echo in your life for years, decades, even centuries, until you capture them again. I hear my cry from when I was five, the appreciation speech I read for the Grand Duchess, my mutterings in the attic during finals, and, from Katorga... I see the formless signals surround me like the starry heavens, unintentional greetings from the past to the present. The days of my life I have experienced have never truly left me.