Zane didn't know where he was. The last thing he could remember was Father's voice, which had been calling him to supper. Zane had put down his toy car and stood, turning around. He had expected to see Father smiling at him over whatever new dish smelled so delicious. Instead, when Zane had turned around, he had been surrounded by a strange new place he had never been before. Granted, Zane had never really been anywhere before, not anywhere other than at home in the treehouse, that is, so it wasn't surprising that he didn't know where he was, but it was surprising he was somewhere else at all. How had he gotten here?

Looking all around himself curiously, Zane realized he had to be on some sort of mountain range in the middle of a snowstorm. He had seen pictures of mountains in books, but he'd never thought he'd suddenly find himself on one.

"Hello?" Zane called out, then frowned. Something was wrong with his voice. It sounded… Higher? Not exactly, but still wrong somehow. He tried again. "Hello? Greetings! Is there anyone there?"

Yes, there was definitely something wrong with his voice. Zane touched his throat with one hand, but there was something wrong about that too.

Zane looked down at himself, and his eyebrows rose in shock. He was shorter than he remembered being just five minutes ago. His legs were practically half their normal size! And he wasn't wearing his normal clothes; instead, he was in some sort of light gray outfit with lots of straps and a funny symbol over his chest.

Something was incredibly wrong here.

Zane's lower lip trembled and his eyes burned with tears. He sniffled. He didn't want to be here, in this wrong-seeming place, in this wrong-feeling body, in these wrong-looking clothes. Everything was wrong, and he didn't want things to be wrong. He just wanted to be home with Father.

Maybe he could find home? After all, Father had taught him that home was in the Birchwood Forest, which was supposedly snowy like these mountains. Maybe home wasn't so far away.

Slowly, Zane began walking forward, turning from side to side as he went, looking for any sign that could guide him toward home. Step after step, he shuffled forward through the snow, looking all around.

At least that much was a little fun. Father had brought some snow into the treehouse a few times before, so Zane could see it and touch it, but Zane had never gone out of the treehouse and actually been in the snow before. Zane looked up at the sky, watching the snow come falling down.

A snowflake landed on his face, then another, and then another. Zane plucked them off, trying to hold them in his hands, but he must have grabbed too hard, because they got squished between his fingers, turning into water that ran down his hands and arms. Curious now, Zane leaned over and picked up a handful of snow from the ground, pressing it between his hands. Instead of being squished into water, however, this large chunk of snow simply became a smaller, harder chunk of snow. Huh. How odd!

Zane continued forward, kicking at the snow on the ground, watching it spray up into the air and giggling at the sight. He kicked at the ground again, then again, then-

Crack!

Startled, Zane looked down at his feet. Had he kicked something that had then broken?

Oh. Not exactly. The ground itself, which looked to be a thin shelf of ice, was breaking.

Wait. The ground was breaking? Uh-oh!

As the ground splintered away beneath his feet, Zane broke out into a run, trying to get away. His legs were too short, though, and he didn't make it far before he began to fall through the breaking ice. He tumbled down, down, down, falling onto hard ground.

Groaning, Zane sat up, dusting himself off. Where was he now?

Zane looked around. It was a cave of some sort, snow on the ground, icicles hanging from the ceiling. He recognized that much from book pictures as well. Was he any closer to home now? He hoped so.

A rattling sound drew Zane's attention. Standing up and peering into the dark corner the sound seemed to have come from, Zane called out, "Is somebody there? Can you help me? I think I am-"

A huge creature burst from the darkness, chains rattling behind it. It roared loudly, reaching out its massive, sharply-clawed paws toward Zane.

"Ahhhh!" Zane shrieked, pressing himself against the cave wall behind him.

The creature, which looked like some kind of dragon and almost looked like it was made of ice, kept on reaching out and roaring. Zane kept on shrieking.

Above the roars and shrieks, however, a voice called out from above. "Zane?"

Stopping his shrieking, Zane took a deep breath and looked up.

Oh! OH! The Falcon! The Falcon was there! It was perched on a ledge in the cave!

Bouncing up and down, Zane waved his arms at the Falcon, hoping it could see him.

"Are you still there?" The voice continued.

...Was that voice coming from the Falcon? Still pressed against the cave wall as far away from the dragon as possible, Zane tilted his head to one side. He didn't know the Falcon could talk.

"If you can hear me, wake up," the voice, which really did seem like it was coming from the Falcon, continued. "You need to wake up."

The dragon swiped at Zane with one huge paw, and Zane squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact. "Ah!"

No such impact came.

Cautiously, Zane opened his eyes.

He was in a dark room with stone walls. A door was situated in the wall across the room from him, and a window with bars through it was in the wall to one side.

How had he gotten here?

Well, it was better than being the cave with the dragon, Zane decided. What had the voice said? "Wake up?"

Oh. Zane realized what must have happened. "Oh. It was only a dream."

But if that had been a dream, it still didn't explain why he was here now. Hmmm.

"It's amazing you dream. I've always wondered what it's like," the voice from the dream stated.

Zane startled, pressing back against the wall of the room just like he had pressed back against the wall of the cave. The same sound of chains rattling accompanied the action, but this time, Zane realized, the chains were on him, not on a dragon. Zane frowned down at his still-too-short arms and legs, which were chained to the wall. That seemed like a problem. How could he find his way home if he couldn't leave this room?

But he had heard that voice. Maybe the voice could help him.

"You've always been special," the voice continued, sounding strangely fond. It seemed to be coming from the barred window.

"Where am I?" Zane got up the courage to ask. "Who are you?"

"I'm… PIXAL," the voice said slowly. "A friend."

"A friend?" Zane repeated, excited despite the situation. He'd always wanted friends. Of course, he had Father, and the Falcon, but Zane wanted more friends.

"Yes. And as your friend, I need to tell you you're in danger and have to get out of here. Your memory drive seems out of sorts, and your elemental power-" the voice (Pixal?) stated.

"My what?" Zane asked.

"Your elemental power. It was stolen. Remember having your elemental power? You're a nindroid, Zane, a ninja. And your friends are here to save you, but they can't do it all. You have to remember who you are," Pixal encouraged.

Zane smiled. He didn't know anything about elemental powers being stolen or what a nindroid was, but he knew one thing the voice had said was encouraging. "More friends?"

"Remember, Zane!" Pixal implored. "You saved your friends and then rebuilt yourself. But that man came, and you had to hurry, that's why your body isn't as tall as it should be, why your vocal processor is malfunctioning, and likely why your memory drive is incomplete."

Zane frowned. He had done what exactly? Rebuilt himself? Why had he needed to be rebuilt? What did saving his friends have to do with it? And what man had come and made him hurry? Zane had so many questions.

But before he could ask any of his questions, Pixal continued. "There are things about you that you don't understand, that you have yet to discover. But if we're ever going to get out of here, you have to remember."

"What do I have to remember?" Zane asked.

"Remember your friends, your family. Remember them. Remember who you are," Pixal stated.

"I know who I am. I am Zane, built to protect those who cannot protect themselves," Zane said proudly, reciting what Father had told him.

"Yes!" Pixal praised. "Now remember those you protected!"

Zane paused. "I don't remember. I don't remember protecting anybody."

"You don't remember the battle?" Pixal asked.

"There was a battle?" Zane wondered. "Is that how I got here? Did somebody, oh no, did somebody attacked the treehouse?!"

"...The treehouse?" PIXAL repeated.

"The treehouse where Father and I live," Zane explained in worry. "Is Father okay? Is he here? I want to see him!"

"Zane, what are you talking about?" Pixal asked.

"My father," Zane said quietly. "I miss him. I was just with him, but I already miss him. I want my father."

Pixal was quiet for a few moments. "...Zane. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was playing cars and Father called me to supper. So I got up and turned around to go to him, but then I wasn't there anymore," Zane explained. "Then I was in the dream, and now I'm here, but I don't want to be here. I want to be with Father."

"Oh no," Pixal said quietly. "Oh, this is not good."

"What?" Zane asked frantically. "What happened?"

"Zane, you are missing a lot more of your memory than I realized," Pixal stated. "I don't even know if I can explain everything that's happened to you."

Zane straightened up, even though he didn't think the voice's owner could see him. "But I want to know. I want to know so I can get out of here and go home to Father."

"I do not know if that will happen," Pixal admitted. "But regardless of if we can get out of here or not, we have to try."

Zane nodded. "We try, and we will get out of here. I know it."