>Does it sound like our mother's voice, or some other with a reminiscent tone?
>Listen closer to the voice. But even if it feels inviting, do not let it invite us quite yet. Remember, we are here foremost to observe. Let us seek to understand it better.
>You can't rule out the possibility that it could be your mother's voice. After meeting Madame Knowledge, stuck-up aristocrat she is, you can't imagine it'd be her voice, but yours? That you're less sure about. Though if it is, it means she was talking to you and Patchy years and years ago, and you can't see how that's possible.
>Pleased to finally be getting somewhere with this investigation of yours, even if it has gotten considerably colder in here, you narrow your thoughts towards the woman's voice. Or at least try to, there's lots of other bits swirling around in your memory down here. Thoughts of your mother has stirred memories of you and her and your father sitting by Myoren's bed as he grappled with another part of his weak body failing, the impotent anger you felt at such a bright soul being forced to endure such a life. How your mother tried to assure you that everything would be okay, but the uncertainly, the worry, the dread in her eyes spoke to her true feelings. Was there some guilt there, too? Perhaps there was.
>Memories of Marissa talking about her mother, wondering how her life would have turned out had she survived. The woman died when Marissa was barely two, yet even now her presence looms in the life of your friend. Would she have turned out the way she did had her mother lived, her father not remarried?
>Memories of Madame Knowledge, and a new anger that accompanies them. Someone like Marissa barely got to know her mother, yet this woman squanders the chance she was given? Every day it seems that distance between Patchy and her mother grows greater and greater, and from what you saw, you doubt she'll do anything to change this anytime soon. Why her, and not Marissa's mother? How is that fair?
>Byakuren Hijiri Corruption Score: 36.
>The chill in your body gives way to a rush of hot anger as memories stir your emotions, but this lasts only a moment before a blanket of despair falls over your shoulders, the knowledge that you can't change any of it, nor change similar occurrences for your other loved ones' benefits. Even with the power you have, it isn't enough.