The Hatchling walks among us. Are these dreams? Memories? Foretellings? Time and reality swirl together like estuary waters, and we Chozo know not what to believe. She appears as ghostlike as the Chozo, but at times the mists clear. We see her wounded eyes, and remember the child we found so long ago. What has she become, this Newborn? Clad in Chozo armor, wielding weapons our hands once held, does she dream of the Chozo as we once were? Does she long for her parents, lost to the same creatures that even now defile our sacred home? Does she still live?