Every single day of my life has been strange. I guess it comes with being a lab experiment who was never meant to exist. My wings, my hollow bones, my extra-powerful lungs and heart, my very being was strange, and so was every single day of my life, except, now, for one day: the day I spent with Wu and his mom, Dr. Misako. That day felt strange, still, but that was because of how normal it was.

To start things off, we had a real, actual sit-down-at-the-table-and-eat-together breakfast. Sure, I'd had plenty of breakfasts with the rest of the flock, but those tended to be noisy, chaotic, and light on actual breakfast food. Given our rough beginnings and the even rougher way we had to scavenge for food from nearby towns now that Jeb Garmadon was gone, it shouldn't have been surprising that we didn't really have table manners. Wu and Misako, though? They said please and thank you, passed food instead of reaching for it, used serving utensils and napkins rather than their hands and their sleeves, and even had multiple options for what to eat. It was a culture shock to say the least, but in a good way.

Once we were done eating, Wu got ready for school. I was more than a little concerned that those guys from yesterday would be a problem for him, but Wu reassured me that the teachers kept a lid on things pretty well and that the jerks typically kept to themselves at school. I wasn't fully convinced, but that was probably because I was used to the torment of the School of my childhood and not whatever actual schools were like.

Soon, Wu was out the door, and it was just me and Misako. She was washing dishes at the sink, but as the door slammed shut behind Wu, she turned and leaned against the counter, facing me.

Before she even spoke, I was tensing up. What must she be thinking? What could she be wanting to do? Adults made me nervous, and the fact that she knew about my wings made me extra nervous.

"Well, Lloyd," Misako said lightly. "Is there anything you'd like to discuss?"

Anything I'd like to discuss? What, like the fact that I wasn't fully human, like how she'd helped me and let me stay the night anyway, like the way I now owed her? Or like how I was on a rescue mission that should've taken priority so that I never should have met her in the first place?

I shook my head silently, expecting her to pry further anyway.

Instead, Misako just nodded and turned back to the dishes.

I watched her work, thinking somewhat wistfully about how nice she was being, how nice Wu had been, how they'd both helped me. Maybe, once I'd gotten back to my mission and gotten Zane out of the School, I could return there. I could introduce the rest of the flock to Wu and Misako. I could stay in touch and, and- and yeah, right. Like there was any chance I could ever remain in contact with these two totally normal people. It would never work.

I fidgeted in my chair, looking down at my hands on the table. My head hurt. It had started to ache during breakfast, and with every thought, it hurt more.

"Lloyd?" Misako said after a few minutes.

Startled, I looked up at her. "Uh-huh?"

Misako paused, like she wasn't certain about what she was going to say. "Do you have a last name?"

"Yeah," I said automatically, then cringed. Oh, I was in deep here. I was too comfortable, I was answering without thinking. Then again, it wasn't like she could do anything with what I was telling her. I didn't have parents, a birth certificate, any form of identification, for that matter. So I said again, "Yeah. I picked it out for myself."

I had been about ten years old when I'd gotten so curious about where and who I'd come from that I'd asked Jeb about last names and whether we as the flock had any. Secretly, I'd been hoping he'd tell me that I was a Garmadon. Instead, he'd suggested I pick a last name for myself if I was that interested. I'd done some thinking and came up with a last name that was perfect, or at least, as perfect a last name could be without being Garmadon.

"I'm Lloyd Wright. You know, like the Wright brothers, also kinda like that architect guy Frank Lloyd Wright, but mostly like the Wright brothers. I mean, they were the first men to fly. I thought it fit pretty well," I told Misako.

She nodded slowly, a strange expression on her face. "The first men to fly. Lloyd… You have wings. Can you fly?"

"Yeah, of course," I said, again on automatic. Words spilled out, and I scolded myself for every phrase I let slip. "It's not just the wings, though. It's my bones, they're different, extra light and mostly hollow, and I have different muscles in certain places. My lungs are different, and so is my heart. I use up energy faster, and I need to eat more, so my stomach processes food differently. All of me is different, really."

Misako looked like someone had just told her dragons existed: intrigued and shocked and a little scared too. Her eyes scanned me up and down.

I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable. For a moment, her stare felt too much like how the whitecoats would look at me when I was back at the School.

"Are you different from everyone, though?" Misako asked.

I hesitated, holding her gaze. I knew what she meant, but I wanted to pretend I didn't.

Misako continued. "I mean, are you the only one who is like this? Or are there others too?"

I had to drop her gaze then, looking down at my hands again. She was so nice, so helpful, so genuine. I didn't want to lie to her. But I also didn't want her knowing the truth. I didn't know if it was safe. I could never know if it would be safe.

After a few moments of silence, Misako asked again, "Lloyd, are you the only one who's like this? Are you alone?"

I wanted to cry. In that moment, I did feel alone. Gulping hard, I said to my hands, "I don't want to talk about this."

Misako sighed. "I can see that. Can you tell me something else, then? Can you tell me how you ended up like this?"

That question was almost worse than the previous one. It brought back flashes of memory: cages, locks, operation tables; yelling, screaming, calling for help; Serpentine, whitecoats, the rest of the flock and I in pain and in danger and afraid and unsure. I could almost see the bright lights of the lab, feel the cold steel of an operating table under my hands, taste the sharp tang of blood coming from biting my lip too hard after trying not to cry.

My head throbbed. My heart thumped. My blood felt like it was boiling and freezing at the same time. I closed my eyes and lied. "I don't remember."