The old master's gaze softened as he looked at Jihoon, his expression suddenly heavy with sorrow.
"Each memory she holds," he began, his voice low and grave, "is a part of her soul. Each moment, each experience, is tied to who she is. If you lose one, even just one, she will lose a part of herself." His eyes flickered with the pain of a truth too cruel to bear.
"It could be something small—a memory of a smile, or the warmth of a touch. But it could also be something far more vital: a moment of childhood, of family, of you." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "And if enough memories are lost, she won't be the same. She might not even remember you... or herself."
