I stood frozen in place like a tree trunk, staring at the dream versions of my former family—but with foggy, indistinct faces.
I didn't understand why they were like this.
I was certain that everything had been vivid and real in Elliot's dream, so why were they like this?
The dreams created by the Demon of Dreams were designed from the memories of its prey and built upon their emotions… like mine.
So did I not remember their faces?Are you kidding me? How could I not?
I frowned as I tried to recall my memories with my family—and I succeeded.
I still remembered everything in detail: how they behaved, the way they spoke, the warm atmosphere around them… everything.
Except for two things.
Their faces… and their names.
"How is this possible… how can I not remember something this important?" I muttered, feeling my eyes widen slightly against my will.
Why hadn't I noticed this before?
