It was as if he was sitting on moving wheels, his body bobbing sideways repeatedly but not roughly. It felt as if the motion was happening so far away and as if he was buried under stacks and stacks of weight. He was pulled under but felt himself a while later. When Sagiri stirred again, the first thing his eyes met was the sun. He squinted at the big glowing light before he shut them and groaned. When he opened them again, he made sure not to look directly at the sun. He felt cold even with the glaring sun, and he was covered in a heavy, long material, a coat.
The events that had conspired before he fell unconscious flooded his mind, and even what had happened while he was asleep. It seemed the archive, just like when it had absorbed a whole book in the library, this time, it had recounted the idea that conspired right after he went unconscious, before it finally went dark.
