A camera. A photo.
The howling wind blew and the rock wall flew past our eyes.
The last thought was not "I don't want to die" -
It's "I got it."
When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a room full of medicinal smell.
A woman calls herself "Angelica".
She opened an old book:
"Your name has been written here a long time ago."
"This "Medicine News Record" will record it by itself."
"And the person being recorded..."
She paused.
"Either be saved by me. Or..."
