After waking up, Olaf felt nothing but an immense hunger.
He sat blankly on the bed, straining to sift through his muddled thoughts for clues to answer the three existential questions.
Who am I?
"Olaf."
Who is Olaf?
"It's you."
Am I Olaf?
"Yes."
He suddenly broke out in a cold sweat!
This wasn't him asking and answering himself, but rather, as these thoughts surfaced in his mind, there indeed was a voice responding!!
Who are you?
He asked.
"I am your Makala assistant."
my...
my卡拉, Makala???
Triggered by the similarity in terms, his memory slowly revived, like pulling a rope covered with algae and mud from a river.
His memory halted after entering Makala, and what followed seemed a blank, though he vaguely remembered reconciling with some obsession.
Back then, there was only a sense of emptiness from having his wishes fulfilled.
But now, that emptiness was filled, and he felt nothing else unusual beyond confusion and chaos.
