[ from the recording, the noise boils out of the speakers in a torrent of shrieks and chanting and drums. impressions are almost shockingly crisp: the vaulted ceilings, torches leering from the dark, carved idols with all their spines and horns. figures flicker in and out of focus as the recording darts past-stripped bare, every one. well, it's only manners in a cult to go naked to a ritual sacrifice, isn't it?
the tide of sound rises. they're shouting a single name. Esaimu, Esaimu, Esaimu-! ]
[ then, of course, the camera zeroes in to a figure on the outskirts. for a boy surrounded by naked women, he sure looks traumatised. ]
E... saimu...
[ meanwhile, very clearly from the present- ]
I'm totally gonna wreck the video on this thing. How'd it even get inside my mind?!