Spencer's memories slowly unfurled in his mind like a scroll. Only now did he discover that there was a very strange place within the corridor of his memories.
He stared at it, but found nothing.
Only after brushing the contradictory area with his pain trait did the clouds part and the mist disperse. A hidden power belonging to Leviathan was sensed and swept away.
Spencer saw the missing fragment in his mind.
A piece of his memories had indeed been lost—not one belonging to "pain," but the sole fragment of warmth!
"My wife!"
Spencer frowned. Even though he had seen where his memories were missing, he still instinctively believed that he had never had a wife.
Yet that "absence" kept telling him that she was someone immensely important to him.
His father? His mother?
No!
Who was it?
As Spencer grew irritated, Harry D'Amour, standing on the ground, looked at the halted attack high above and finally let out a breath of relief.
At least he would no longer be casually crushed to death.
Before Spencer could continue questioning him, he extended his palm, where a cluster of memories appeared.
"Spencer, this is your lost, most precious craft. But it contains Leviathan's pain. Do you dare merge with it?"
As Harry D'Amour spoke, the cluster of memories rose into the air. It was caught by the ghostly blue energy in the atmosphere and lifted beyond the atmosphere.
"Spencer, our lord, do not believe the enemy's honeyed words. Crush them."
"These Cenobites are full of schemes and tricks for manipulating hearts. Do not follow its words."
The Cursed Disciples rampaging everywhere saw Harry D'Amour's actions and raised their heads, shouting as they tried to stop Spencer.
Beyond the atmosphere.
Spencer looked at the floating cluster of memories before him. He could