[There's a distinct chuff in the back of Nita's head; apparently the peridexis is amused by Wormmon's antics, moreso than Nita herself at the moment.]

Right, then.

[She takes their hand, sharing the first memory, the one Enna had received and been confused about during their descent to Jema'grethy.

The sense of hollowness, of being emptied of all sensation, still strikes at her even now. All emotions, however painful, being drained away... leaving only a purpose. A mission, one could say.

It is a short memory; Nita surfaces, blinks. Waits one second, two, before asking,]

Are you all right?

... Let me know when you're ready for the next one. There's three, total.