Abigail froze completely.
Her mind went blank as some emotion surged over her like a tidal wave, washing every thought from her head.
In the end, all her thoughts collapsed into a dazed haze. Only Braun's words pierced straight into the deepest part of her consciousness like an ice pick—
[Do the memories and thoughts in your mind truly belong to you?]
She tried to recall them, but her "memories" of her family, her upbringing, and why she had joined the Scourers suddenly became vague and suspicious.
It was like... looking at a familiar painting through frosted glass. The outlines remained, but every detail was a blur.
The harder she tried to see clearly, the more blurred and suspicious those memories became.
Most people could not clearly remember their childhoods. If their teenage years had been monotonous and repetitive, those memories might not have been very clear either.
But Abigail's life had been full of ups and downs, with many moments she had believed she would never forget for the rest of her life.
Yet now, she remembered the sweat of training, the fervor of taking her oath, the satisfaction, pain, or remorse after certain missions...
But what had been the underlying tone of those memories?
She could not even remember the color of her mother's eyes.
Even the missions she had carried out as an adult seemed to have changed shape...
For example, that time she had gone to Benevento, Italy, and infiltrated a local gathering of Female Witches. She still remembered scattered fragments, yet had no idea what she had felt at the time.
When she heard those Female Witches talk about using magic to prank their husbands, had she laughed?... It seemed she had, but she did not know whether she had truly felt happy then.
Another