Ash's sword stayed locked in place, its tip aimed at nothing.
"My… soul?"
His voice cracked as the question left his lips. His eyes searched the empty field, but the only thing answering him was the soft wind brushing the grass.
The voice had said it was living inside him.
"I don't get it. What do you mean, my soul?"
It didn't answer right away.
Ash listened, waiting, the stillness around him growing heavier.
Then the voice whispered again, as if curled up inside his head, like it belonged there.
"Huh. I thought you were going to tell me why."
Ash's grip tightened. He frowned.
"What? Wait—what do you mean you don't know? You're inside me and you're telling me you don't know why? What kind of answer is that?"
A pause. Not long in reality, but it stretched inside Ash like an echo in a cave with no end. Just when Ash was about to speak again, the voice returned.
"I'm sorry... I lost my memory. But there's one thing I still remember. Just one."
