Cui Que smiled.
She hesitated for a moment and then asked, "But by altering those people's minds, isn't that a bit..."
"I did not distort their memories or personalities."
Russell shook his head, "I simply removed the influence of the 'fog' on them."
"Fog?"
"I don't actually know what that is..."
That might just be the very essence of the plague of the mind.
Russell thought to himself.
His consciousness blinked back to the gallery.
In this gallery where there should be no wind, a faint, hazy, colored fog drifted slowly from afar.
It was so beautiful and ethereal, like Aurora flowing on the ground. It wrapped around Russell, but did not harm him; instead, it healed his fatigue.
But after it passed, rainbow-colored stains appeared on some of the portraits.
