I continued strolling down the storage house, scanning the shelves that contained numerous memory jars of different colors and designs. Even from a distance, I could hear those glass containers "whisper," as if urging me to open them and release the memories they had trapped.
I took a deep breath, shaking my head and ignoring the voices, and continued walking.
Fake Death told me to entertain myself here by looking through my memories, but there was a reason why they were all stored here in the first place: they were unimportant ones.
In other words, they're boring the shit out of me.
Like, come on, the first memory I opened was just me being a literal baby and biting Emman's hand! Who in the nine circles of hell appreciated such a thing?!
But looking at it in a different light, even if that memory were hypothetically necessary, I'd still feel lonely since I didn't have Death (the original) to make side comments with me.
