The massive chamber of Memory Shards was a breathtaking, terrifying sight. Thousands upon thousands of crystalline fragments, each radiating a faint, internal light, hung suspended in the unmoving air of the stasis field, like a chaotic, silent galaxy. Andrew, Marrow, and their shadows stood at the edge of this frozen, informational abyss, the sheer scale of the task ahead pressing down on Andrew's already strained mind.
"This is the Chrono-Labyrinth's true archive," Marrow's voice was a low hum, tinged with a detached, academic curiosity. "Every fragment of thought, every fleeting experience, every desperate whisper that has ever passed through the Dreamscape's temporal currents is potentially contained within these shards. Your Specter shadows, existing outside the temporal flow, can perceive and transmit their contents. But the sheer volume… it will be overwhelming."
