Beyond the first stab of agony, the upload is painless. He can feel the Transistor unspooling him with gentle detachment, transferring him into neatly labelled cells and circuits, together with other peacefully sleeping Traces. It's easy, soothing; soothing.

He fights by sacrifice. He throws in his name first, loses the knowledge one brilliant second. His first bout. His memory of the skies over his house. Senses, then, smells and sounds collected, coveted. His memories, bright exploding bombs, and he fights and fights and fights, clogging the transfer until it shudders to an uncertain stop. He gives up what would've been taken anyway, any trace, any Trace...

Just one thing. Just one. Just a color, a name. Just one thing to rebuild himself on. He doesn't remember how, and when, and why, he fed the first meeting and the second touch to his struggle, but. But still.

I love you so much, Red. You know that, right?

[Timestamp on Subject's integration coincides with timestamp of previous authenticated User relinquishing access and control. Although Subject's trace data was corrupted during integration, nontheless such data has it's uses, and consequently derived a suitable Function. Subject's trace data remains disjointed and cannot be recovered.]