[spoiler]Because why not. Hurr hurr.[/spoiler] [i]As the First Hunter proceeded to his location, he found...a familiar, heartwarming sight, really.[/i] [i]Leaning upon a railing that he was walking near was a lonesome female, older than she had been when she had last spoken with him - Gehrman could recall that event well: the sighs of denial, her eventual acceptance of the Hunter's fate, then the scythe passing through her neck and freeing her from the Dream.[/i] [i]She was bound in an article of clothing that reminded him of...Maria, oddly enough. It consisted of a dark grey longcoat, tattered and patched from tears and bulletholes, a velvet cape protruding from her right shoulder. A brass sheath, decorated with the symbols of old, hung at her waist alongside an unfamiliar weapon: a revolver. The woman sighed, looking up at the air as the left side of her face was seeable to the old Hunter.[/i] [i]...Irina?[/i]