It's a dream. She has no reason to hurt her, and no reason to hold back, either. "I may not agree with him, but I do not wish to harm him. Even if it is a projection in a dream."

She does love him, after all. The landscape starts warping, being less of a 'sheet of black with no hue' to something out of a messy, pretentious art piece. Little sparks of light start flashing everywhere in the air like short-lived fireflies, and- when, and only when, Amane looks at them- the balloons change from her father's face to someone else.

The one right in front of them turns into a brown-haired girl, one she doesn't know the name of- a random face in the Lockdown. Color start running messily through the floor like spilled paint.