The next instant, several images from memory were dug up: Simba, Scar, Timon, Pumbaa... Then came the scenes: the little lion lifted up by the baboon, the sunset over the savanna, playtime with the warthog and the meerkat, and then the music...
A constant flood of images was dredged up from the depths of memory, and under the effect of magic, they rapidly filled in with detail.
Deeper, still deeper... Murphy vaguely felt a dull ache, as if some machine was grinding away with a creak and a groan, yet more and more details surfaced in his memory. He had almost completely remembered the story, to the point that even the lines in it came back to him.
A vast torrent of information was continuously drawn out from the depths of his memory, and countless details appeared clearly before him one by one.
Gradually, it was as if he had returned to that summer afternoon, crouching in front of the television and watching the cartoon playing on it. He even smelled the mosquito coil and heard the cicadas chirping outside. Ah, right, there was also a plate of watermelon in front of him... Grandma had cut it for him...
Murphy was beyond excited. This was practically a scene reenactment! Practically a holographic memory!
Keep going. Keep going...
He wanted to know just how far this memory could be restored.
Could he recall every frame of the movie?
Could he clearly see the pattern on the cloth covering the television?
Could he control the self inside this memory?
If he turned his head right now, could he see the old woman lying on the recliner, waving a fan?
The creaking of gears had become deafening, and the dull pain had reached the point where it felt as if it was about