In her mory, Ali beca haggard; the light in her eyes had vanished.
She started to suffer from insomnia, often standing by the window late at night until dawn.
The guests at the inn could hear her soft sobs, but no one knew how to comfort a sister who had lost her brother.
The people in town said that I should give up... that Tom surely has... but I don’t believe it! I can never give up on him!
Despair and guilt coiled around Ali’s heart like venomous snakes.
She began to bla herself, thinking if she had stopped Tom from going to the Abyss, if she had gone with him...
Countless "ifs" echoed repeatedly in her mind, tornting her to the point of distortion.
The anticipated result...
Ron, observing all of this, remained unperturbed within.
He even began to analyze Ali’s behavioral patterns.
Considering what kind of psychological intervention could more effectively help her escape this pointless pain.
But he failed to realize that the cold analysis itself highlighted the problem.
Finally, on a night when a blood moon hung high, Ali made a decision.
I’m going to find him... even if it’s just a corpse, I’ll bring him ho...
The journey recorded in her mory was filled with tragic undertones.
Ali had no combat experience; her "equipnt" was rely a rusty kitchen knife and a few bottles of homade herbal redies.
Every inch of the Abyss was soaked in blood, each breeze carried the scent of death.
Twisted monsters lurked in the shadows, ready to tear apart any invaders at any mont.
Yet Ali seed to feel no fear, she just kept calling out her brother’s na repeatedly.
Tragedy strikes at the most unguarded monts.
By the edge of a swamp, Ali encountered one of the most venomous creatures of the Abyss—the mory Parasite.
These microscopic creatures, invisible to the naked eye, infiltrated her consciousness like smoke, starting their most wicked work.
Not only did they devour the host’s real mories, but more maliciously, they implanted ticulously crafted false mories.
Offering hope to the despairing, providing false comfort to the suffering, then slowly hollowing out the host’s brain during this process.
Tom?! I hear you calling for help! Wait for ! Your sister is here to save you!
With the false mories implanted, hope reignited in Ali’s eyes.
She "heard" her brother’s cries for help, "saw" him trapped further within the scene.
These illusions were so real that even her sense of touch and sll were perfectly deceived.
Almost there... I’m about to find Tom... I can feel it, he’s just ahead... waiting for ...
But Ron knew the truth.
Through the mory Crystal, he saw the parasites slowly devouring Ali’s brain bit by bit.
The mory abruptly halted.
Ron slowly awoke from this imrsive experience and found his eyes unexpectedly sowhat wet.
This sudden emotional reaction shocked him.
How long had it been since he was moved by a stranger’s death?
Tears slowly slid down his face, dropping onto the cold surface of the lab table.
Ron stared blankly at the tear, as if he had seen sothing beyond comprehension.
"I... am crying?"
He raised his hand, tremblingly caressed his cheek.
The warm moisture at his fingertips confird the shocking reality.
After experiencing Ali’s mories, cracks appeared in his frozen emotions.
But soon, deeper fear surged in his heart.
When did he start becoming so indifferent?
When did others’ pain beco rely data to him?
He thought of Eve’s longing Purple Crystal eyes, rembered Nari’s unconditional support, recalled Dale and Ailan’s silent companionship over ti...
Their contributions, these sincere emotions, left increasingly faint traces on his heart.
Every ti, perhaps he would be slightly moved for a mont.
But imdiately afterward, it would be extinguished by the icy waters of reason, plunging back into the world of research and Cultivation.
Far away from the Faruk Kingdom, his family would always write a lot in their letters, also regularly sending portraits of family mbers.
Eldest Brother Edmund recently attended so event, Father’s hair had turned a few strands whiter, Andre complained to him about how troubleso those damned Nobles were...
Once, these updates could bring him so solace.
But now?
He glanced over those letters, confird there was no value, then passed over them, like browsing academic materials without difference.
"What kind of monster am I becoming..."
Ron’s voice echoed in his heart, carrying an indescribable bleakness.
He recalled Uther’s warning, rembered the records of the Ancient Alchemist from obliterated eras.
Lance’s final words:
"If there’s an afterlife, I hope to find a way of research that doesn’t require sacrificing others.
But in this life, I must achieve breakthroughs within limited ti; for the greater good, one must tolerate lesser evils."
And the madness of Alexander Jin transforming himself completely, the defeat of Airena Moonlight by the hatred entity she created...
These senior experiences once served as cautionary tales for him.
But now he discovers he is treading the sa path.
Not physical transformation, but spiritual estrangent.
The Cultivation of Star Eater’s Ravings, the Wizard Society’s environnt of interest supremacy, and the craving for stronger power...
All these were subtly changing him.
Making him more indifferent, more inclined to see everything as resources to be exploited.
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