And so all our lives become but a faded memory, an ephemeral vision of a Van Eyck concert flyer... blink or you'll miss it.
Psyche
Before thought effects; other dialogue conditions may apply.
976 · Voice lines
And so all our lives become but a faded memory, an ephemeral vision of a Van Eyck concert flyer... blink or you'll miss it.
As your hand reaches for the small rectangle of glossy paper, it snaps free from the branch...
One of the flyers has gotten stuck to the branches of a small brush. The sound of it flapping in the wind is an echo of Van Eyck.
Flakes of snow fall onto your outstretched hand. A slight tremble passes through it...
Cold drops of rain fall onto your outstretched hand. A slight tremble passes through it...
In the back of your head, you feel the rapid beat of anodic music... then it fades away.
But... but... what if you never find out how your story ends?
You carefully fold the wrapper into a square, before putting it back into your pocket. Lovingly even -- despite the strange feeling of regret.
Feels very, very familiar. Harry. Please. You were supposed to discard it.