In the darkness, starlight flickered.
Voldemort's consciousness drifted through the void. He reached out and pulled.
"Whoosh."
A speck of light came hurtling toward him with a rush of wind.
As it drew near, its full appearance finally came into view.
It was a world wrapped in a membrane of light. Within it, young Lin Zuo was walking to school.
"A day in young Lin Zuo's life. If I use the Veil of Faith..."
Voldemort murmured and shook his head, rejecting the idea.
But he didn't push "A Day in Lin Zuo's Life" away. Instead, he reached out and drew in more specks of light.
Memory after memory surged toward him. Before long, they had gathered together, yet each remained wrapped in its own membrane of light, never merging with the others.
If Lin Zuo or Riddle were given complete memories, then in a sense, each memory would be a person.
Voldemort couldn't keep a constant eye on the world of memories, so he wasn't willing to let such complete memories grow freely within it.
To that end, he split these memories apart and forcibly controlled them with fate, making each fragment replay endlessly.
The advantage was that they were easy to manage. The drawback was that development in the world of memories ground to a halt.
But that didn't matter to Voldemort.
He had created the world of memories to resolve the conflict between the two sets of memories, not to nurture them.
Once all the memory fragments had gathered together, Voldemort reached into the void again.
Abruptly, a glowing white thread appeared.
As Voldemort tugged at it, he drew a vast swath of luminous fabric out of the void.
This was the Veil of Faith in the world of memories.
It was as thin as a Zen meditation,