Beacon. What an unpleasant world. What an awful name.
Dawn Cicada stood there for a long time, staring at the receding world dock where only the outline of vines remained. She had once believed she no longer cared about that world at all.
She always seized every opportunity to emphasize why she would never rebuild Beacon.
"Beacon is a failure I can never forgive myself for. Why would I rebuild proof of my own failure?"
"Dawn is the spoils of the Vineborne. I do not want to interrupt their celebration."
She had given answers like these to BS Rita, and to every player who ever asked why she refused to rebuild Beacon.
Only when answering the former did she add an extra note of feigned surprise and satisfaction. She had assumed Deceitful Bloom would object, but instead, Deceitful Bloom had tacitly accepted her choice.
Yet none of those were the real answer.
She said those things simply because they sounded strong. Because they sounded reasonable.
