A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I had a bit of writer's block and couldn't get myself to write anything for a little while. I came up with this not too long ago; I hope I fleshed it out well enough for you. Be warned, there's a heck of a lot of point-of-view transitions in this chapter. I tried to make it less confusing, but I honestly have no idea if it is or if it isn't. Just leave me a review or a PM if you have any feedback or constructive criticism to give on the subject of point-of-view transitions (or anything that'll help me improve my writing). Every review helps! You have no idea how much those reviews mean to me. Thanks for the feedback so far! You guys are the best. :3

Well, I hope you enjoy. I'll try my best to get the next chapter out sooner than a month from now lol :P

Who, me? They're talking about me? He could hear voices. They were saying things about him.

"Yeah, I dunno. He's just been sitting there for the past hour, staring. Kinda creepy, if you ask me."

Huh.

"Tried waking him up?" a soft, pleasant voice asked.

"You have no idea. Spent the better part of the last ten minutes or so just breathing in his face to see if he'd recoil from the stink."

What. That's gross.

"…Wow. Brutal."

"And he didn't move a muscle. Freaky, eh?"

I'm… Freaky? …I don't think I want to be freaky.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see if he wakes up from his stupor."

"Yeah, no use just standing around here."

"Fenrir's gonna be upset." He could sense an almost-urgent undercurrent flowing through the pleasant voice.

"Ya think? Betcha ten gil he's gonna blow some shit up. Tornadoes are gonna be everywhere."

That name… Fenrir? It seemed familiar.

"It's actually a bit touching how much he cares for him. …I'm worried about how he's going to take it though."

"Oh, there's your mother-hen nature stepping in, huh?" A snort. "Guess you can't help it; you're pretty much an overgrown chocobo, after all."

"…"

"Whaaat? I was joking!"

"Whatever." The pleasant voice didn't seem to be irritated at all.

"…They have a kinda weird relationship though. They could probably make a sandstorm or somethin' if they combined powers."

"You know, that'd be pretty cool to watch."

I don't… remember…

"Titan. Cut it out. This isn't funny."

Huh? Hey, that's my name! It was his name. Titan. It sounded strong; like a raging colossus dealing crushing blows to whoever got in his way. He didn't feel like a Titan though, more like a Herbert or a Calvin. Those sounded like some pretty diminished names to him, names befitting of a frog or a mouse, and ones that would fit his current state of mind perfectly.

"Stop playing around! I mean it!"

I'm not playing though… I don't understand. Why was everyone so demanding of him? The first few voices wanted him to wake up, and this one wanted him to stop "playing around". What, did they expect him to just magically wake up one moment and be able to answer all their questions? Fat chance. Not that long ago, he was having trouble stringing together singular thoughts in his , he'd be lying if he said he wanted the voices to go away; they seemed to anchor him to this dimension. They kept him from floating off. To say that he appreciated the efforts of the voices was an understatement because knowing that there were existing beings that cared for his awakening meant the world to him.

But it would be so easy to leave. To just float off and never come back, fly into the unconscious unknown… A simple task; one that would require little to no effort from him. What required effort was the painstaking process of searching his mind for memories; any at all. Anything to solidify these voices' confidence in his past, anything that would jolt him back to reality. It was much more difficult than expected, and the ever-looming worry of coming to the realization that the voices speaking to him were simply figments of his imagination provided endless amounts of pressure and stress.

And yet, he still chose to attempt the process of memory retrieval. It was weird, to say the least; he didn't feel like someone who was always motivated. Maybe in his past, he'd been a hard worker. One who never shirked his duties and one who always chose the hardest tasks. Currently, he hated exerting his mind if only because he knew there was an undeniably large chance that everything would end in naught.

"Titan. Titan, please." The voice brought him back to the present.

Huh?

"Okay, okay you win. I'll leave. If you want alone time, you'll get alone time."

But… But I… Aww, come on.

"Hey, ready to talk to me now? Done moping?" The same voice from before. Even though the words themselves had some negative connotation behind them, the voice didn't have any hint of malice at all. It seemed pitiful, even.

I didn't want you to leave in the first place.

"What the hell. Stop it with this silent treatment stuff."

I'm trying. I can't talk, okay? I don't even remember who you are.

"…Okay, what did I do?"

What?

"My God, what is it?! Did something happen to you? Someone smash you during a summoning?"

Summoning. Hmm. Another familiar word. Another sense of déjà vu. He hated that feeling. Whenever something felt familiar, it gave him further evidence that he had some memories locked away, dancing just out of his reach. He had an inkling that he'd never find them. Perhaps the key was thrown away.

"Just tell me who did it, and I'll kill them. I'll gouge their damn eyes out and make them wish they never existed."

I don't… What?! No, I don't want that! Nothing happened to me; I'm here, I'm fine. I just, well, I…

He didn't know. How would he be able to explain that he remembered pretty much nothing? How would he be able to explain the fact that he could only hear and not see? Killing someone would not change the problem at all; in fact, it had the potential to make it worse.

"Just say something. Talk to me."

I told you already, I'm trying! Can't you see that?

"I'm here for you, okay? I always have been; always will be."

…That's nice to know.

"Titan. Titan, please."

Wait, what?

"I mean it."

…You sound sad.

"Goddamn it Titan! God fucking dammit!"

Don't cry. Please don't cry.

"You know what I thought? I thought they were kidding!"

…

"I thought they were just trying to play around with me! Ifrit's always like that."

…

For a moment, the talking stopped. It could have been a minute; maybe longer. He couldn't tell. All he could hear was the ragged, choked breathing of the voice.

"It's something serious, isn't it?" Barely a whisper. "Someone's gone and messed with your legend, haven't they?"

Wait a minute… Wait. He could feel a sinister prickling deep in his consciousness. Legends?

"Oh no. Please tell me they didn't."

I'm… A legend?

"THEY HAVE, THE BASTARDS! THEY JUST WENT AND CHANGED YOU!" The voice was furious; agonizingly so. He could tell it had something to do with him. "I'LL DESTROY THEM. I SWEAR; I'LL WIPE OUT EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM!"

The truth hit him like a fully-grown Silver Dragon flying at top speed.

Wait… I'm not a legend. No, I'm an eidolon.

"Holy balls dude, Fenrir's pissed."

"Shut up, he's going through something really tough right now."

"Whoa there, Phoenix! That was the first time I heard you say 'shut up'! Good job; you're breakin' outta your shell of aversion towards being verbally abusive!" But even Ifrit's jabs lacked the heat they usually held.

"God. You never learn, do you?" Phoenix ruffled her wings and sighed.

"Nope, never have, never will. None of us went to 'school', if that's what you're implying. You're not pullin' any fast balls on me, no sirree!" Ifrit laughed half-heartedly. "Ya thought ya got me there, didn'tcha?"

If he was expecting a response, he got none.

"Hey, I was just trying to lighten the mood."

Phoenix covered herself with her wings. The air felt cold.

"…Dammit man, this sucks."

"There doesn't seem to be any other explanation," Ramuh muttered. Titan hadn't moved or responded to any external stimuli for the past thirty hours or so. He'd only witnessed this one other time, and that was when Shiva had undergone a change in her legend. She used to be a tiny fairy; now she took the form of a tall, graceful, full-grown one. Some called it "growing up". But for eidolons, the changing-legend phenomenon didn't follow the logical progression of maturation, increasing height, body development, or any of the other aspects that characterized growth. If the legend changed, the physique of the designated eidolon was one of the first noticeable differences one would be able to notice. The eidolon also had the chance of becoming more mature as well. However, there was the chance that the legend could force an eidolon to become less mature, the personality could change radically, and there was a chance that all of the memories from before would be forgotten with no hope of retrieval.

Ramuh often compared it to soul-switching; born into the same role with a different soul. But they were eidolons. They didn't have souls. They were just weapons of war that had songs dedicated to them.

It was depressing. Ramuh hated thinking about his existence this way, but there really wasn't any other logical truth. They had no control over their future; they were slaves to the almighty tribe of summoners. Titan's state of stasis brought that harsh reality back to the forefront of everyone's mind with a vicious kick.

"How do you think he's going to change?"

Ramuh was jolted out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw Bahamut, drifting towards him. He scratched his beard and sighed; nothing ever granted them a position of power when their adversaries were the ones who created them. "I really have no idea. There's no way to say until he shows us himself." He shook his head sadly. "Poor Fenrir."

"He'll get over it. I'm more concerned about Titan's new personality. He was fine as he was before; if we get another Ifrit or another Leviathan, I'm not sure I'll be able to take it." The dragon muttered a curse under his breath. "Those summoners. Always using us as they please." He laughed to himself. "Destruction isn't even interesting anymore."

The lightning eidolon raised an eyebrow. "Really now? Last time you were summoned, you went a little overboard with the fireballs."

"All just for show. Not much fun in destroying things when you figure out you're just a pawn." Bahamut grunted. "Nothing we can do about it though."

"Playing the role of the world-weary realist, I see."

"There's no other role to play."

A blanket of silence descended upon the pair of conversing eidolons.

He was starting to feel uncomfortable; the amount of "his past" that was being shared with him made him feel like he was looking into someone else's private memories. No, I don't remember! He would shout after a memory was recounted, but Fenrir was unable to hear him. That wasn't me! That was someone else!

It was disturbing, to say the least; knowing that he used to be someone else, but was changed due to the nature of being an eidolon. It was tough to take in all at once. Every ounce of his being wanted Fenrir to shut up. The memories were too much. They weren't even him! Stop telling me about the Titan I know I'm not!

But then he'd hear the emotion in Fenrir's voice. Every recounted memory gave the voice a pitch of sadness, joy, and everything in-between. What was most heart-wrenching was the hope he could hear; it snuck into every syllable, found its way into every exclamation and every softly-spoken statement. He knew he wouldn't be able to remember, but the hope in Fenrir's voice wanted him so desperately to recall everything. So he tried anyway. That insistent, despairing emotion that forced him to return to the darkest muddled recesses of his mind; hope was a powerful thing.

It was useless, though. No matter how hard he strained his consciousness for any sort of clue to regain his memories, his mind would shut him out and even the things that used to provide him with vivid reminders of his past began to fade.

Why?

Why did his legend have to be changed? Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't he remember, why couldn't he talk, why couldn't he be confident in himself and his past, why, why, why…

What the hell was he even here for? He didn't want to unleash havoc on anyone or anything. He just wanted to talk, to remember. He wanted to confront the summoner tribe and ask them to refrain from changing any other eidolons' legends. All that was wishful thinking, though. There would never be a time when the summoners saw the eidolons as equals. The only thing that could bring the summoners down to the level of the eidolons was death, and if the whole summoning tribe died out, so would the eidolons. It was a lose-lose situation, and Titan knew it better than anyone.

Fenrir was still talking; still telling him stories. The friendly eidolon was trying his best to bring back Titan's memories, but it was in vain. Trying his best to grasp the points Fenrir was making, Titan listened as intently as he could, but he could never shake the feeling of despair. It ate at him with every "Remember that?" that Fenrir uttered, and every "Man, I miss the good ol' days" that hinted at a better past.

Titan had never felt so alone.