Half an hour later, Thought Control pushed An, seated in a wheelchair, onto the Escape Tower platform—this place was clearly far better suited for conversation than the cold, sterile life laboratory.
An's white robe had been replaced with a thicker uniform, making her look just like one of the human engineers who had once lived in the Escape Tower. However, a black blindfold covered her eyes, and even the overbearing air she had carried before had faded somewhat.
Apparently, the words, "For saving my life," had greatly lowered Thought Control's assessment of her threat level. Even so, she still kept more than three meters away from Xia Fan.
"Her eyes..." Xia Fan was slightly dazed. In his memories, there was another woman who had often worn an eye patch as well.
"She had never truly used her eyes, so exposure to natural light should be minimized at first," Thought Control explained. "The same goes for her limbs—long-term immersion in a culture tank leaves the muscles slack and weak. That is something synthetic technology cannot compensate for; she will need to recover through training."
Yet when she had still been an Evil Spirit, she had moved so fast that the naked eye could barely catch her.
Even now, Xia Fan still found it somewhat hard to believe that a Chaos entity could truly be restored into a conscious human individual.
"This is what the wind tastes like." An removed her gloves and laboriously raised her forearm, feeling the breeze blowing down from the mountains. "I thought there would never again be a day when I could touch the wind."
"Evil... Chaos entities cannot feel the wind?"
"I know what you want to say, but the label itself is irrelevant." An lowered her hand. "Those who cross the boundary come to understand