One faction, the Sensates, believe that the only “real” things in the universe are those that can be directly experienced with the senses. Their goal is, essentially, experiencing as much as possible so one can understand the truth of the Multiverse.
One old Sensate laments this to you: He wishes to still continue to experience new things, but his age is so advanced that he can’t physically travel to the more exotic locations. He tasks you with finding a way for him to lose his memory–that way very basic, every day sensations will be new to him.
So you do, and what follows is the text of a note he wrote to himself to get his bearings: “Congratulations…you’ve begun again,” it says, and he goes off, amiably, to figure out what’s going on and follow the instructions he wrote.
What strikes me about this quest is that the guy now finds himself in the same situation as our protagonist–an amnesiac trying to learn as much as possible about the world. And yet, where your journey is one of angst and melancholy and horror, his appears to be a joyous second chance.
There’s that Nietzche thing–I apologize for referencing Nietzsche!–which talks about a shadowy figure at the foot of your bed telling you that you’re going to relive all of the events of your life, that they’re going to repeat again and again for ever and ever, and an ambiguity over whether this is a blessing from an angel or a curse from a devil. For our sensate, the opportunity to live life over is a consummation devoutly to be wished. For you, every step of your journey is fairly horrific. Everything you find out about your past shows you to be one of the biggest assholes on the Planes. Reliving your past through your rediscovery of it is turning out to be a fairly terrible curse indeed.