As you swallow the memory berry, you feel something in your stomach clench and your mind seems to fray at the edges for a split second as you experience the memory unfolding in your consciousness.
[[You scramble up through the gears of the great machine. With a certain deft ease, you get up to the main wince, feet moving idly with the great arm's movement to keep your position as you time the swinging pendulums.
You readjust the straps at your shoulder, making sure your tools are secure before crouching and springing forward. You nod, solemnly, as you feel the displaced air of one of the great pistons surging past you, just a moment after you clear its path. The hardest part was over, the rest was simply bounding from one cluster of wheelgears to the next until you were close enough to the Great Coil to feel the heat of the fires below.
Keeping to the walkway here, you pace the machinery patiently, eyes scanning for anything out of place. This was the core of the city, and all life that lived within the walls of the sprawling metropolis was sustained by its predictable, measured movements. For you... this was as close to 'religion' as anything you've ever known. Barbarians and beasts outside worshiped gods and elements, relying on tricks they called magic, charlatanism they believed to truly grant life and death.
You knew better though... The city, she was proof that magic wasn't what the world thought of it. This WAS life, death, joy and terror... maybe she WAS a goddess. Which, as you reflected with a certain smug satisfaction, made you a high priest.
You find your target, climb the access ladder and check a pressure gauge before tightening the clamp just enough. "There. That feel better?" You pat the duct before re-securing the tool and bounding back for the door. You fancy the hiss of steam below as the Great Coil begins the cooling cycle was a 'yes.']]
As you return, the memory settles, interlaced with the rest of your recovered life, as if that was just another part of the world and people you left behind. It's hard to shake any of the conviction that it was real and it had happened to you, any more than you would a normal memory.