Tome of All-Memory: Lost in Oblivion

Caerula Recorder: Tome of All-Memory
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Transcripts of the Lost in Oblivion Memory Mapping's Memory Selections.

Memory #1 Unlocked at the start

“ Where does one go to find something that has already been lost? ” Laurentina gazes absent-mindedly at the flickering lights under the ocean in the distance. The tide of monsters has ebbed. Another Ægir city has survived, for now. Pain and death are a fact of life these days, with devastation as far as the eye can see. This is an old city, with a glorious history, and one still sees a vestige of eminence and pride in the buildings under the dome, even from a distance. The Abyssal Hunters were no longer allowed to come near the cities after the betrayal, while the more "primitive" hunters are placed under close surveillance. They pushed the tide forward, but they have no home. Not anymore. Laurentina did not complain about this. She could feel the impatience and anxiety in her blood every bit as much as her captain could. They have come face to face with a predestined death–or worse, a death that has already begun, and all they can do is endure the long decay. She continues to gaze at the Ægir city. It has reactivated, moving towards a line of defense that has retreated to who-knows-where, towards a destiny that awaits who-knows-when. The lights disappear into the seabed. Deep in the ocean, the sunlight is but a distant memory thousands of meters above. It must exist, but nobody can perceive it. Darkness embraces her once more. Laurentina notices that the currents have changed. Her captain is leaving. Gladiia has not spoken for years. She detests her own voice. After years of working together, however, they no longer need words to understand each other's intentions. This is how things must be, until the decay is finally complete. "Trust" is too shallow, too callous a word to describe their relationship. It is simply the bond of blood that the Abyssal Hunters share. They have seen the end of this relationship many times. They know what awaits. It is not yet time, but neither is it far away. It could be in two months, or it could be tomorrow. Laurentina reminds herself to get a new saw blade the next time maintenance comes around. The filth returns. She decides not to think about the future any more, at least until the dance has ended.

Memory #2 Unlocked after entering the 3rd floor

“ When the thing to be pursued has been deliberately buried, does the pursuit itself still have meaning? ” One dance after another, yet her partners are always silent. Laurentina tires of it. This is not a true dance. Broken limbs dissolve in the water, but the singing is deafening. It is their song. She acknowledges its beauty, but it cannot catch up to her steps. Her final partner turns to dust. Its photophore grows dim, and she is once again in familiar darkness. There are no waves deep in the ocean, replaced by the omnipresent weight of the sea. Is this peace? Laurentina is perplexed. Fragments of thought tell her that peace should be shared with others. Peace comes with another song. One that is warmer, gentler. What was the tune? She closes her eyes and tries to remember, but their chanting is cacophonous and inexorable. They snuff out the slightest ripple, allowing only themselves to linger in eternity. A blurred silhouette flashes across her mind. Peace... Is it peace? Or is it fear? Laurentina takes a few steps forward. She stands on her toes, then pirouettes. Her arms should be lighter, lither. Then she bends down, and turns again. Should her hands be holding something? Had she danced these steps with someone else in the past? Where is that "someone else" now? As a partner they were clumsy, but far better than... these. Memories, entangled like threads. Laurentina knows how to untangle them and find the one she seeks, but decides against it. What is the point? She does not know where it will take her, and she does not want to know. What has come to pass is more abhorrent than what is to come. It is time for the next song. Their chorus is overwhelming. Laurentina does not want to be overtaken by the song. She straightens out her skirt, and welcomes the next group of dance partners.

Memory #3 Unlocked after entering the 5th floor

“ Though freed from oblivion, to whom did this face once belong? ” It is a beautiful stone, white and regular, half-buried in the soft sand like an exquisite dessert delicately placed under the waves. This is a good place, she thinks. No one will interrupt her here. She has walked for a long time, by herself, through broken ruins, through slimy fragments, through song, through death. Finally, she came before the stone. It was a coincidence. She never set a goal for her journey, but that was for the better. The best moments are often unpredictable. She approaches the rock and touches it. The knowledge she had once held was buried in the dark depths along with her name, but the emotions remain. She has given up on describing them, but they are undoubtedly present in her trembling hands. She has not trembled like this for many, many years. She caresses the stone, trying to capture some warmth, but feels nothing. She no longer feels changes in temperature. She runs her finger over it and feels a slight resistance. It is a good rock, which feels almost as though it could cross beyond eternity. She had touched a rock like this, one afternoon beyond distant time. Back then, she believed that there was something that could resist time, resist death, resist the impending end. But perhaps not allowing fate to have its way was itself a form of resistance, in its own way. ...Connected. The words she had heard so many times had long faded beyond recognition from her memories, but she at least knows that no one is connected with her anymore. It is time. She understands that she can delay no more. She slowly raises an arm. That which was once called a weapon is now a dried husk, but it is enough for the work ahead. The stone peels away, piece by piece. A little more, a little more. ...... She closes her eyes. It is done. She has liberated the void from form, and entrusted her fate to it. The waters rise and ebb, washing away all traces of both the stone and the silhouette from the beach.