“Are you sure? Do you want to take the risk of knowing what has been enslaved in the darkness for so long? Only with no regret can I come back.”

“It — it doesn’t matter.” She can’t identify /anything/ about the voice. Nothing at all except an obscure sort of pain, that this person should think that they’ve gone so far they can’t come back. Her own voice strengthens. “You won’t hurt me.”

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