If I had a life before all the light, I don't remember any of it. If everything after the light was real, I don't remember much of that, either. In fact, I was too young to remember much prior to the disappearance of Team Tenrou, and what I did remember was the following.

I must have only been about one or two then, but that one moment is engraved into my memory, permanently branded there as if someone took a hot iron bar and seared it into my consciousness. It started when I was swallowed whole by the golden light, my senses engulfed in brightness. I couldn't see, but I was guided slowly through the golden currents by a gentle tugging sensation. I didn't know why, but I felt strangely comforted, happy, even.

Then came the darkness. Suddenly, a small patch of blackness pierced through my golden euphoria, shattering my brief sense of peacefulness. The darkness quickly spread, like tendrils of ink reaching out in all directions. Within seconds, the last speck of light disappeared, and I was alone the sea of darkness and uncertainty. I felt a sharp jerk at my back, I began falling, falling through a black chasm of nothingness. A desperate voice accompanied me as I descended. It whispered, Make it right. Change what I couldn't. I ignored it and my fall continued. It took forever, and I must have fallen asleep, because when I could see again, I was in a different place.

Where I most definitely did not belong.

Or maybe I did, but there were so many unfamiliar voices. Something felt off, and I still can't place my finger on what. I was just an infant then, but even they can tell when something was wrong.

In time, the voices became familiar to me. Eventually, I stopped thinking about July 7th, X777, and everything felt normal.

Normal, save for a small voice that still whispered,

Make it right.