He began to search.
Step by step, he scoured every inch of the battlefield, where everything had long since changed, searching with stubborn, frantic determination.
Something had been wrong with him all along.
Ever since he woke up, countless memories had appeared in his consciousness out of nowhere, yet none of them connected. It was as though fragments of a film had been randomly cut up, crushed, and crammed into his mind. Every attempt to remember brought the pain of walking through a thicket of razor blades.
It was as though his life
was slowly becoming a single drop in the vast ocean, as though one wave would be enough to leave him no longer knowing who he was.
Yet he still desperately tried to remember.
Tearing at them.
Grasping those fragments.
He abruptly took another step forward.
At that moment, even bound by the curse of undying, his mechanical head began to show signs of collapse. The deeper he ventured, the more intense the sensation became.
This was the battlefield's influence.
And he soon noticed it.
That unknown influence was emanating from each and every corpse. It felt familiar, because it was just like the aura given off by the multicolored blood that had flowed from Cthulhu as he collapsed, just like the endless chaotic colors in the sky.
Disorder!
But he abruptly reached out, forcibly invoking his Remnants of the Past ability once again while on the brink of collapse.
Bzz-
In that instant.
Dazzling white light spread outward from his body.
The phantoms of time began to rewind, but the battlefield's turbulent aura was clearly interfering. Even the images that appeared were distorted and blurred, impossible to make out.
Yet the images continued to take shape, little by little.
Lynn held on.
Amid those hazy visions.
Time