[The first thing that hits Coco is a memory that doesn't belong to her. Viewed from a child in a training hall, but not one of the ones at Daybreak, an older man takes a metal cross and throws it at a target dummy down the hall, hitting it in its straw chest.
"More like that," he says. "And remember; they will tell you at school that not everybody has to take part in missions, once you're old enough to do them. They may be right. Not everyone must, and not everyone will."
"But I have to, right, dad?" asks the little girl.
He nods solemnly. "It has always been our line's duty to stand where others will not, to ensure that they have that luxury to choose not to fight. If you fear it, take heart; at least you will not be alone."
The scene fades away, with a far more menacing voice chiming in from another memory: "...often fight alone... die alone." And with that, she'll find a supply of such throwing crosses in the chest, which will last either until she runs out or until she leaves the dream. ...And a piece of fried chicken? What's with that?
The footsteps coming toward the theatre sound a lot more dangerous than the eyeball monsters Coco chased out of there before, though. Maybe she can try and hide in the wings, or somehow get up onto the chandeliers above the house.]
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"More like that," he says. "And remember; they will tell you at school that not everybody has to take part in missions, once you're old enough to do them. They may be right. Not everyone must, and not everyone will."
"But I have to, right, dad?" asks the little girl.
He nods solemnly. "It has always been our line's duty to stand where others will not, to ensure that they have that luxury to choose not to fight. If you fear it, take heart; at least you will not be alone."
The scene fades away, with a far more menacing voice chiming in from another memory: "...often fight alone... die alone." And with that, she'll find a supply of such throwing crosses in the chest, which will last either until she runs out or until she leaves the dream. ...And a piece of fried chicken? What's with that?
The footsteps coming toward the theatre sound a lot more dangerous than the eyeball monsters Coco chased out of there before, though. Maybe she can try and hide in the wings, or somehow get up onto the chandeliers above the house.]