The moss-covered ceiling above wasn't the first thing she remembered. There were little snippets here and there. Wind, wetness, a bone-chilling cold, and the warmth of someone's back.

It was the first time she didn't immediately pass out again, however. And, just like before, unconsciousness was starting to feel like a much more merciful alternative.

She must've been sweating up a storm, all bundled up in...whatever fabric her rescuer had found. Yet she was still shivering, and the throbbing headache just wouldn't go away and let her sleep, no matter how heavy her eyelids were getting.

When the barred gate creaked open, and a shadow loomed over her, her first instinct was to scream. But no sounds came out of her throat, all sore and dry. Then they knelt down and pressed a hand against the back of her head, lifting her to a sitting position. Cold glass soon pressed against her lips, followed by a sweet, fruity smell.

"Drink. Don't try to talk." A feminine voice stated. Only the red and gold bowtie on her collar was visible under the dim light. "Your voice is pretty strained."

Against her instincts, she complied and took a few gulps from the bottle. The fruity smell of the drink was deceptive, and it took all her restraint not to spew the bitter liquid out. The coldness did soothe the soreness in her throat. Goodness, how long had she been screaming back...there?

"Okay, I need to change the bandages on your arm. It's going to hurt."

The girl set her back down, and unzipped the sleeping bag she was lying in. With great difficulty, she turned and peeked at her left arm, where that foul Fragment had grabbed her, and the skin is turning into a shade of lifeless grey under the morning sunlight—

"Can you hear me? Can you hear me!"

A piercing migraine hit her right in the skull. The vision faded away, replaced by a concerned face, followed by several jolts of pain that sent spasms through her entire body.

"Ughhh. I..." She couldn't quite hear her own weak whisper, as the sensation faded away. "What?"

"Your eyes were glowing again."

These words struck a giant alarm in her mind. No, not this, she'd zone out and randomly start beating up the nearest person again and even if this girl had taken her captive, the aftermath would be horrible, absolutely horrible, she needed to get away, to a place where no one could be—

"Wait! You can't get up now!"

Seconds after she propped herself up with her left arm, she collapsed on her side, gasping, her joints letting out painful creaking sounds. Only then does she look at her arm again. The skin has flaked off, exposing the withered flesh below—

"Greetings, sweetie. Never thought we'd met again."

She kept staring wordlessly at the glowing, floating woman in a witch hat, until it became clear that she was still awake and not hallucinating. A rare thing at this point, really.

"...How did you end up in here?"

"Well, how did you?" The ghost raised an eyebrow. "I know you must be tracking them down, though I have no idea how you found their previous hideout."

"I...haven't done a great job."

"Why, it's not supposed to be your job, is it?"

"Sorry." She winced. This woman talked like that one teacher who never got angry, but still managed to make her students feel rightfully ashamed about their deeds.

"No matter. What's done is done. Just rest. I'll tell you if they are about to try something funny."

"How do they..." She paused. "Trap you? Can't you just float out of here?"

The ghost responded with a scowl. "I could. If only that disgraceful excuse of a Goddess hasn't thrown my amulet down a well."

"The one with chains?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, she is under the false impression that I may know how to trigger a True Resurrection ritual." The ghost sighed. "It's not entirely on her, though. That soft-spoken young lady who patched you up couldn't hold her tongue, after her little spying adventure inside the Basilicom."

So she was a captive now. Better than being dead, but not exactly something to rejoice over.

She flipped over, and buried her face in her good arm, little more than bones stringed together by mummified flesh. Screaming, she flung her arm away, and strands of hair fall into her eyes, all tainted an ashen grey. That damned, accursed grey, she should've killed that life-sucking pest long ago, when her power hasn't faded to a sliver of its former strength—

"Are you alright?!"

Something cold touched her cheek, then a coughing fit comes over her. She curled up, covering her mouth, and when she opens her eyes again, her palm is stained a dark, grimy red—

"Oh dear. I'll be right back!"

Right after she sucked in a mouthful of air, the ghost vanished into the nearest wall, and a hoarse laughter escapes her lips. This is what she gets for caring, for coming back again. What a horrible way for her to reunite with...she could have cursed her beloved with the same fate in her desperation, couldn't she?

"D-Don't go..." Her weak mumblings trailed off, and she hears the laughter of that foul Fragment again, echoing inside the sunken tower, followed by the sound of a brass lamp shattering on the floor. How dare she, how dare she defile the only thing left of her beloved—

She clutched her forehead, now drenched in cold sweat. No, she was the first rebel against the first tyranny, a survivor of the Great Tari Shock, and even if she has very few things left to care about at this point, she will not die such a pathetic death, the strongest Goddess couldn't slay her, she is a witness to the fall of countless nations and dynasties, she is—

"I'm not...you! Get out! Get out of my head!"

—A nobody, a specter wandering through the land, and soon, she'll be another nameless, rotting corpse.

"The insanity must've finally caught up to me." She paused. "Or I'm having the weirdest fever dreams while slowly dying in the real world."

"Tell me about it?"

"Okay, you know about all this memory stuff. Why were random memories shoved into my head without warning, when I'm not even inside this plane? And why does it hurt so much afterwards?" She gritted her teeth. "I get that, I'm seeing that kid because...Little Me is her best friend in another world or something, but I don't even know Aktivis that well! She's just this bitter business person that her wife barely tolerates!"

"Woah. What what what?" Brøø raised a hand. She was looking at her like she had grown another head. "What happened between them while I was gone?"

"Uh, I don't think they've ever had any real feelings for each other? Their marriage is nothing more than a business decision."

"That's not true! I was there on their wedding day, there's a huge wedding cake, and I knew two happy people when I saw it—" Brøø slapped her forehead. "Ah! We aren't talking about the same person, are we?"

"...She'd married someone else before? Someone who isn't named Blizz?"

"Yeah. I've only met Miss Infocom a few times before I left for Lowee, but she's a great storyteller! All my knowledge about Grues comes from her..." Brøø sighed. "Aww. I hope they've remained friends after they broke up. What were you asking again?"

Knowing Aktivis, that definitely wasn't the case. She didn't feel like updating Brøø on the many woes of the present day, however. "My memory-seeing power is broken. No. It has never been working properly. And I want to know why."

"Ah well. I've only read a few snippets here and there, but did you remember what I said, while you were crying?"

"I can...become someone else?"

"Yeah. I guess when you inherit people's memories like that, it's not like watching a movie. When they are tired, hurt or having a bad day, you'll feel it too. Their pain is carried over to you, and...maybe it's like muscle cramps? You get used to it after a while?"

Inheriting memories. Skills and knowledge literally being passed down through blood. Following the footsteps of one's ancestors. Oh hell no, this sounded just like...

"Ughhhhh. Don't you just hate it when the nutty conspiracy cultists get something right?!"

"What?"

"Nothing!" She shook her head, frowning. "Okay, why hers? What decides the memories that get thrown at me?"

She shouldn't be surprised by anything at this point, but please, please don't give her another long-lost relative she had never heard of before. The annual Golden Pentagram meeting, where more than half of the participants hated each other, was awkward enough already.

"I dunno either. My power never works in the same way, and all I can find are some scattered pages from my foster parents." Seeing her disappointed look, Brøø gave her an assuring pat on the shoulder. "No worries, I'll be on the lookout while I'm collecting pages for your book—okay, not yours. That little CPU's."

Only then did she look up, and caught sight of the little blue book above the dome. "Wait? Was that book up there before?"

"It's been floating higher and higher, after I put more pages back inside. Funny, really."

A low rumbling sound rang through the open space. Seconds later, the structure collapsed, sending a shockwave through the ground, throwing both of them off-balance. As she scrambled to get up, she caught sight a dark blue spot in the grey sky above, growing larger and larger—

Her eyes snapped open. The tremors were still coming from below. Dust was falling off the ceiling and straight onto her face, sending her into a coughing fit. But it ended as quickly as it came. For the next few minutes, everything was peaceful and quiet. She almost thought she was hearing things again, when stomping sounds started coming from outside.

"I don't understand. We have more Sharecites than we need, right?" A youthful voice mumbled, before her voice raised to a yell, "So why why WHY isn't it enough—!"

She let out a yelp at the deafening thud that ensued. The giant cracks on the opposite wall were visible, even if she was lying on her side, with her eyes barely open. That was one blow she didn't want to be on the receiving side of, and the panic only grew when the door creaked open.

"Oh, you are..." The girl put a hand to her mouth, as she peeked into the room. She quickly sprinted inside, and knelt down next to her. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that, or done anything I've been doing, really, it's just...we are getting so close, yet something's still missing..."

Her anxious stutter was innocent enough, on its own. But combined with the sudden tremors, the ghost's absence, and the stray mentions about a ritual...

She narrowed her eyes. "What have you done...to that ghost woman?"

"Her amulet? Aqua Heart—I mean, I shouldn't have treated her so rudely." The girl looked away, and hastily added, "She's okay! We, we haven't hurt her, she's just very angry at us right now, and I can't listen to her scolding again! Do you need anything?"

"Explanations. A lot of them," she replied. "For starters, where am I, and who are you."

"Oh. Okay. I don't know which dungeon this is, and I don't think it has a name, but we are at the northmost corner of Lowee. And I think you...know the answer to the next question already?"

"I don't."

"W-What? You aren't tracking us down?" The girl gasped.

"I heard them talking about you on the news. Then the two people at the cabin found your earring. I...panicked and rushed out there without thinking?"

"Oh. That's like, really unfortunate. I didn't mean to fight you in Lastation, I'm just a mess back there, and then you started acting all weird and possessed—"

"I, I don't mean to sound like I'm blaming you." The girl buried her face in her palms. "Ugh, I'm failing as badly as before. I shouldn't have, and never wanted to be brought back in the first place!"

"Go on?"

"I'm Ryll, and the other girl you've met, she's Lynka. For all I know, my nation doesn't exist in this world, and so does hers. We've been dead for...who knows how long, and all of a sudden, we are just, well, not."

Even the intrusive flashbacks were getting tiring and monotonous. If only they'd stop hurting so much.

Switching back and forth between feverish drowsiness, sleeping and crawling through the woods in someone else's deteriorating body was really messing with her perception of time. Was it day or night now?

The ghost woman had come back to check on her. Opening her eyes for a greeting became tiring after the first few times. That Lynka girl proceeded to change the bandages on her left arm prior to one of these visits, and when she heard talking sounds coming from outside again, she thought it must be the same person. These two sounded really alike when they were nervous, and she could only distinguish Ryll's voice by the high pitch.

"Tell us something. Anything. I'm begging you."

"I was not even there to witness that foolish attempt, until after you'd collapsed the ceiling." The harsh tone—that was the ghost woman's, without a doubt. "Oh yes. Tell you something, so you can bring the whole place down on us with your next failure?"

"Then help us! Help us so there won't be another failure! She, she can't keep almost killing herself, only for her sister to disappear at the last second—"

"Help you. You kidnapped me, kidnapped her, manhandled me two times in a row, and threw my amulet down a well. Now you are expecting me to help you." The ghost said, in her most deadpan voice. "You have a great sense of humor, I'd give you that."

"I...I can make it up to you?" Ryll stuttered. "We can't quit now, but I'll do anything you ask, if you agree to tell us how that stone works!"

"Send your other hostage back. Fly her to the nearest settlement with a clinic, hospital, whatever is available." A pause. "If you still have any respect for human life and your old titles of divinity, you will let her receive proper medical attention, even if it means risking your own discovery."

The silence that ensued was unsettlingly long.

"No? I figured as much. Then I have no business talking to you."

"Please—!" Ryll's pleading was cut short by a flash of light, shining in through the bars of the half-opened door.

"Your transformation doesn't intimidate me at this point. Go on. Force the dead to shut up again."

"I won't." When she started speaking again, her tone was completely flat and robotic. "If you refuse to help, someone else will have to suffer for it."

"Ah, that's what you are planning all along? That's why you insist on taking her with you?" The ghost's voice was dripping with cold fury now, "So you can use one hostage to threaten another into submission? I've underestimated you, it seems."

"I don't need to. She's already been suffering for the past few days. Without help, it will only get worse."

"And pray tell me, what help can you possibly offer?"

"I can bring back supplies. So it doesn't get worse. If you tell me everything you know."

"Even if I do, it won't guarantee your success. I'm not a professional. Just an assistant who could hardly understand what my fellow scholars were talking about."

"I can't guarantee that what I bring back will help, either. But it's better than nothing."

"...Alright then. I will see what I can figure out. In the meantime, you will fly out there. You will bring back medical supplies. You will not hurt anyone during your search, and you will ensure her safety for the rest of the time she's trapped in here." The ghost squeezed out the next three words in an intentionally slow voice. "Do. You. Promise?"

"Yes." After another flash of light, the monotone voice faded back into a panicking whisper. "Of course! I, I promise!"

She couldn't see them, but it wasn't hard to visualize the ghost's death glare, as she uttered the next sentence. "I hope you are proud of yourself."

Another interval of silence. Then, she could only hear Ryll, gasping for breath like she was on the verge of suffocation.

"I'm not. No, no, no, I'm not, I don't want to be horrible again, but it has to be done, it's for..."

More thuds were coming from outside, growing uneasily loud with each subsequent blow.

"The greater good. I'm still thinking it's for the greater good, it isn't! Nothing but lies, lies and..." The yells were quickly overwhelmed by loud sobbing, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I keep saying that, I can never make up for it, but I can't miss the chance to at least make up for something—"

The entire world was fading into white noise. Her vision was littered with black spots. She gripped the withering grass stems with her good hand, dragging herself forward, inch by inch, along the black asphalt road.

A cold scarlet light washed over her. The sun must be minutes away from sinking below the horizon.

Why was she still hanging on? Out of a spiteful stubbornness, perhaps, or misguided hope—

The roars of a motorcycle engine rumbled through the air, before a bright beam shone onto her head. There it was, the headlight, staring at her like a single menacing eye.

It was soon switched off. Under the dusk light, a gloved hand grabbed her left shoulder, which still retained some sensation, unlike the rest of her arm. She twitched at the pain. No sound escaped from her throat, even when a metal barrel was pressed against the back of her head.

"Lifedrain? Man, it's a miracle you've made it this far." There was a child-like cheerfulness in the stranger's voice. "Even the best healer could only delay the inevitable, and I'm no virtuous paladin. Would you rather choose a quick death?"

"...Not yet." The raspy reply, squeezed out of her throat, almost sounded like a growl. She rolled to her side, reaching her good hand into the front pocket of her shirt, just as the stranger put her gun away and stood up.

Her scarf came loose mid-roll, and the cold wind filled her collar, sending chills up her spine. The shards inside the pocket kept slipping through her fingers, all wrinkled and stained.

When the stranger's footsteps began to move away, a surge of desperation pierced through her clouded mind. She flung the shards in that direction with the last bit of her strength. Little specks of gold sparkled at the edge of her vision, as her face hit the ground and more blood flowed out of her lips.

The stranger knelt down in front of her, casting a long shadow under the setting sun. She could almost feel the heat of her intense stare behind that opaque helmet visor, as the stranger picked up one of the little golden specks.

"You...recognize these, don't you?" She let out a hollow laugh. "I can lead you to yours."

"And what are you asking for in return?"

"Take my shards," She gritted her teeth, "Kill Filina for me, after your ascension."

"Who's Filina?"

Groaning, she found herself staring straight into the ghost's red eyes.

"W-What?"

"Your eyes started glowing again, and you were talking—" A sigh. "Never mind. Go back to sleep. I've made them promise. Promise that they'll get you help."

"I...know."

"Sure. You'll take what they bring back next morning, and hopefully, you'll feel better. Now, just close your eyes and rest."