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'His Heart has been Broken. He's dying.'
The dark figure silhouette in the tank stirred slightly, neon bubbles being exhaled and floating into a hole in the top of the tank.
'But if he dies…'
A head of longish spiky hair shook slightly.
'I know. It seems we will have to unchain all the memories that interconnect with the reason for the Break.'
Long limbs flexed and uncurled from their foetal position.
'But everything is connected to that! His hopes, his dreams, his purpose; they're his reason for existence. How will he be able cope without his memories?'
The head shook again and there was a flash of brilliant jewel-toned sky blue.
'The memories will be turned into Cards and we will put most of them into a chest. This way, we can return them individually when he can be judged to be able to deal with those memories. This way, searching for his memories will become his purpose. Get Naminé.'
The head was shaken a final time before the blue, blue eyes opened and the person was able to look around blearily. There were electrodes and tubes all around him, as well as being fitted with a ventilator.
"Download: Complete. Draining fluid………Now."
If the figure hadn't had a pipe down his throat, he would have squeaked in surprise when the warm liquid he was floating in suddenly drained away through a hole in the floor.
"Draining: Complete. Disengaging Apparatus………Now."
As the figure, now revealed as a boy of seventeen with brown spiky hair just past his shoulders and a pale peach complexion, could ascertain, having a tube pulled out of the throat and numerous needles simultaneously yanked out was very, very, very painful.
"Disengaging: Complete. Opening Capsule………Now."
One of the sides of the rectangular tank unsealed and began lowering into the floor, allowing the slender boy to step out onto the grey tiled floor and make for the item-lad table on the left side of the otherwise empty circular room.
The items on the table were vaguely familiar, but he couldn't name what they were. A pile of five thin triangular blue objects glowed, so he reached for them first. The moment his hand touched the pile, the Cards turning into orbs of light and flew into the boy's forehead, loading information directly into his brain. The first Card was the Card of Voice; it gave him an understanding of the spoken word and returned his vocabulary. The second was the Card of Clothe; it told him the uses of clothing and why people wore them. Third was the Card of Emotion; this instilled an understanding of emotions and empathy. Fourth was the Card of Understanding; it gave basic understanding of the behaviours of other beings. The fifth and final card was the Card of Word; it told him how to read and write.
The boy looked down before snapping his head back up, face bright red. The clothes were snatched off the table.
Five minutes later, the boy left the room through the only door, clad in black jeans held up with several black belts, a tight black tank top, black fingerless gloves, big biker boots and an armless full-length, hooded black trench coat. A silver chain hung around his neck, graced by a tri-point crown pendant.
There were several monitor screens in the next room, all of which were turned off. There was another three cards on the command panel; two more blues and a red. Beside them was a piece of paper.
Choosing quickly, the boy reached for the blue cards. The top one was the Card of Basic Knowledge; it told him of the basic items (such as tables, trees, etc) and their functions.
The second blue one was the Card of Cards; there were five types of Card. The Blue Cards were called Core Cards and were common knowledge. The Red Cards were Skill Cards; that is, how to do things. The Yellow Cards were Magic Cards which taught how to spellcaste. The fourth card was the Purple Cards, which gave knowledge of weapons and how to use them. The final kind of cards were White Cards. These Cards were Memory Cards and would return one of the boy's memories.
The red turned out to be Skill Card: Computer Skills. It told him how to use computers to an extent.
Finally, the boy unfolded the piece of paper. The paper appeared to have been ripped from a book.
'The Beginning'
Each journey gives rise to chance encounters, and each encounter brings forth a farewell.
When a farewell leads to a journey, the worlds open their hearts.
Those chosen by the light, or ensnared by the darkness. Friends who share the same bonds, though their paths may differ.
When you doubt the path trod thus far, when the hand you held is lost to you, gaze anew at the heart that once was…
For all the answers are within.
Confused, the boy decided to look at it again later and put it into one of the many pouches hanging off his many belts so he could get to the computer.
The machine booted up okay, but he then ran into a problem; a password.
Glancing around the room and finding nothing for inspiration, he took out the paper again and looked at it. The page went back into a pocket, the word 'FAREWELL' was put into to space and the computer logged in. There was only one program on the desktop so the boy opened it. It was a video program.
A sad-looking girl appeared momentarily on a static-y screen. She was a pretty blue-eyed blond with a caring face and appeared to be the same age as the boy. She spoke only two sentences before the screen fuzzed and 'CURRUPT DATA' appeared in big red letters.
The boy sat back and stared at the now blank screen.
'I'm sorry, S----. You're on your own now.'
The boy sat staring at the screen for a while, a frown on his face, before he decided to take a look around.
Outside the door were three long white corridors that went on as far as the eye could see. Each went in a different direction; left, right and straight ahead. Still feeling slightly drowsy from whatever tranquilizers were in the tank, the boy decided to sit next to the door and see if anyone came along.
The boy fell asleep there several minutes later, slumped in a dark puddle by the door in the midst of light.
(space)
'Should you really have let Naminé leave him that message? It did give a hint as towards his name, and if he remembers his name so early, he might remember everything and we'll be back to where we started.'
'Patience. He needed the motivation. Now that he has a purpose, he'll try hard to reach his goal.'
'I'm not so sure…'
'It doesn't matter, anyway. They've already found him.'
(space)
"Hey. Wake up."
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