When she steps up onto the stage, she spreads her arms wide—

—and the curtains part into a forest clearing.

The altar he saw before when he was sinking into his dream is there.

Honeysuckle Rose steps up to the altar.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

A butterfly flutters down and lands on the back of her hand. Another circles the lindworm(?) curiously.

The butterfly is pretty. He smiles at it.

It flutters down and lands on his shoulder.

"Were you listening to us before?"

A breeze stirs the branches of the trees above them.

"Good."

She looks back over her shoulder.

"Come here, honey."

He goes there.

As he approaches the altar, the breeze ushers him forward, and his butterfly flutters down to perch on the stone slab.

And, once he's within a certain distance, he suddenly feels compelled to consider whether he would allow his memories of the girl to be looked at.

...!

Of course he would!! Look at her, isn't she so good?

Isn't she so good! His love echoes back to him.

And she is about this tall, and has hair that's cut and dyed like this, and speaks like this, and is shaped like this. He finds himself remembering all of these things, one little detail at a time.

A thousand little flickering lights blink on above the altar.

She is, she is so good! Her hair and her words and her shape are all very good. He bounces excitedly.

The lights blink off one at a time, some in rapid succession and some spread out, as his memories of her keep repeating. Some shift sizes and colors and drift into different locations before eventually winking out.

Eventually there's just one electric blue light left, hovering fist-sized above the altar.

"Can we get a look at her?"

It expands in midair into a crackling blue ring around a window that shows

a black pod about the size of a human head connected to a computer.

"...hmm."

...that does not look like Z at all. He blinks uncomprehendingly at it.

"...honey, can you rush this one? I hate to make you– ...all right. Thank you, sugar."

The window closes, and the breeze starts nudging them gently back towards the exit (which appears to be between two bent trees, not curtains). Honey motions for him to follow her out.

He goes along, his confusion gradually turning to concern.

The curtains close behind them.

"...right. Honey, it looks like your sweetheart doesn't have a body right now."

...he frowns.

"She should, though."

It was a very good body! Soft and cozy and huggable! And it had blood! Blood is important.

"I know, hon. I can help her get one. I just want to make sure you knew so it's not a shock."

As she says so, there's a ripple in the air just above the countertop, and the little black pod fades into view.

"...Is... that her?"

"Looks like it, honey. Let's see what we're working with..."

She proceeds to the bar and starts to feel around on the top of the pod for a moment, until she finds the right spot to tap – when she does, the spot glows for a moment, and then the two halves of the pod open outwards to reveal...a brain, sitting in a depression in the middle, covered in sensors.

"Mhmm. Thought so."

"...I wanna hug her," he says.