( There's a way that Basil visibly tenses up. There are memories that he'd prefer not to give up -- memories that he doesn't want to share. His hands tug lightly at his clothing that, knot tying in throat as he trembles lightly at the thought. )

I-Is there... a way to choose... what kind of memory you can take?

( No, he doesn't want specific memories taken. The happy ones were so precious to him. There were some that... he would be fine with losing, but how could he possibly be able to choose which one? )

T... There's no way out of this, is there... We really have to choose to give up ourselves.

( It sounds more like he's saying this to himself more than anything else. )