My sister-in-law has become a brave man.

I'm just having dinner with the Eyres.

where he stands “dark” together on the rubble.

I'm just talking to Regrouza at Lausandola's inn.

From the back of a flying white dragon, looking at the green earth.

From present to past.

"Someone" sees my memories playing backwards through time.

I'm just walking the market with Lar Arc.

I'm just watching Heavenly Sound training in Royal Castle.

I'm talking to cooks and merchants about making sweets.

I'm having a secret tea party with the maids.

My memory plays on its own, where I have no will and no involvement.

I see that, "someone" I don't know.

Don't take it personally.

Don't touch me without forgiveness.

My whole body sifts in unspoken fierce anger.

"Uh-huh!!!

With the will to reject me, I could yell to explode.

I didn't hear anything, I didn't see anything, but I only felt that "someone" had been bounced from my memory by that rejection.

But it was only for a moment that I was somewhat relieved.

For some reason, the reflux didn't subside, and I was left alone in a storm that I couldn't understand, where the memories of people and things I had seen in the past hit me like a gust of wind, just passing by.

If you live seventeen years, a significant amount of memory accumulates.

It blows like a gust of wind, and it passes as soon as it grabs meaning.

It's confusing, and I'm terribly tired.

But I don't know how to stop it, I don't know how to escape from here, which isn't the real world, and I don't work my head properly in the first place.

I was like a wild animal in a storm, just dressed up and kept waiting for it to end.

So, a while later.

The storm stopped abruptly.

I was wondering if it was finally over.

I felt loose, closed my eyelids and just breathed relief.

"Surrell."

Though I call my name in a gentle voice, for a man, his finger's thin hand gently strokes my back.

Hanging out on my own, my tail broke.

... oh.

It's familiar.

Yeah, think about it.

He returned it to me.

It was certainly my memory that was playing in the first one.

What's that, the last one?

It's not my memory, is it?

It was confusing, but there was no hippo thinking about it.

"My successor isn't Rosalee, is he?

A man as thin as a dead tree, says in a voice sinking into sneaky sorrow.

He has morbidly white skin and wears a grey robe on his body like he is about to become a mummy.

In this space where nothing but me and the man existed, he looked at this one blurry, sitting around tired.

"If Rosalie is not coming, I should have decayed at the end of time.

To be picked up by Brownload's successor was a strange tour.

I looked at her, but she didn't look at me. I noticed her eyes and her skin was soggy and wrinkly.

This one, no.

I can see it, but I haven't seen it, and I can use the word but it doesn't make sense.

It's not a "suck" place, it smells "broken".

"You can't refuse me.

He looked me in the eye as if I was in another dimension, and he sharply spotted me thinking I'd run away to avoid irritation, and the man laughed thinly.

"Successor to Brownload, heir to the [Black Bible].

The greed that still holds me after I have been given the Book of Legends and two books.

I like it.

You must have opened me up with a desire for power, huh?

Unfortunately, you are not a Rosary, but I am written down for future generations and will give you the power you need.

No matter what they say, I need strength.

That's why I ran away completely.

"Then take it. with the memory of my beloved Rosalie.

Oh. This pattern for the third time.

I was once swallowed up by a sea of pushing knowledge.