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He longed to continue down the path of this memory and see what would happen next.
He had stitched many people, but once stitched, their memories would be subjectively twisted by him...
So, this was the first time he felt something truly... beautiful from the human world.
"Fake! Fake! Fake!"
He kept repeating these two words in his mind, realizing full well that this memory wasn't his own.
But how he wished it were his!
In the world of memories stitched together, it seemed all memories were sharp knives. But suddenly, deep in his heart, there was a softness.,
Out of place with the rest of his memories.
He let out a cry of pain! Every soul in his body, every face, was also screaming in anguish.
Countless black tentacles began to flail violently, and myriad crimson eyes stared furiously, as if about to burst from their sockets.
It took a long time for him to finally force himself to stop revisiting that memory.
