45 chapters in, and the pieces are starting to come together.

We're in the home stretch now. Basically, this takes place around the time that Errol attacks the Monk Temple, so pretty late in-game. While there's still a ton of stuff I have planned, we're reaching the climax of the story. I'm very excited :)

Happy reading!

The Water Slums was one of those weird places with an old story behind it.

All those crazy, Precursor-loving lunatics could talk until their faces were blue about "Mar's legacy" and "the history of the Precursor structures". But people from the Water Slums, people like Jinx? Their stories came from old folks sitting on the rusted fire escapes, made from broken pipe and rebar, with a bottle by their shoes and a cigarette between their fingers.

"This place wasn't always like this," they'd say, blowing smoke rings while the children played on the docs. "Long time ago, this whole area was just the sea. They used it to water the crops and such." The clinking of a bottle as they took a drink. "Yessir, this place was never meant to be livable. But then there was a fever that tore through the slums like a fire, and they had to put all the sick folks somewhere. So they built these bridges and houses and threw us all in here."

Jinx's great uncle, an old roofer with rough hands and a penchant for gin, had been a teenager when the fever came through. His whole family'd been sick, so they'd picked up and moved into the Water Slums, and they'd been here ever since.

"My mam and pap and the baby all died," he wheezed, lighting up a cigarette. "Just me by the end. Lucky I was good with my hands, so I got a job fixin' up the roofs around this place and made a living for myself. That's how I got your auntie to marry me, bein' good with my hands."

"Yikes." Jinx spent his days at his great uncle's side, watching the old man chain smoke and tossing firecrackers into the water. "I don't wanna hear this."

His great uncle gave a cackle. Jinx threw another firecracker into the water, watching it splash droplets into the air. They rained down on the wooden poles and the surface of the cloudy, polluted water.

"Knock that shit off," the old man grumbled. "Water's dirty enough as it is. Damn stuff'll make you sick. Don't go swimmin' in it, don't go drinkin' it, don't go splashin' it around, you hear?"

Jinx rolled his eyes and pulled out another firecracker. "It's not that bad. My buddies swim in it all the time!"

"Yeah, and your buddies ain't got three brain cells to share between the four of 'em," his great uncle retorted. "I care 'bout your health, that's why I keep you outta the water. And stop throwin' those! Bratty little…"

Jinx ignored him and lit up the firecracker. It streaked across the water with a whistle and sputtered out when it landed in the water, skipping and sparking around on the surface of the water. His great uncle smacked the back of his head, cussing loudly as the boy rubbed the spot.

"Hey! No fireworks in the city!" Jinx looked up to see a KG who'd been walking by. He was across the water on another walkway, and though his face was obscured by the mask, Jinx could tell he was glaring. "I oughta haul you in just for having them!"

Jinx wrinkled his nose. He bit back the urge to yell back, his great uncle's hand on his shoulder. The KG nodded curtly and turned away, satisfied to have made his point.

Snap! The next firecracker Jinx threw smacked against the edge of the wooden walkway, right next to the KG's boots. He jumped about a mile, swinging his gun around, only to see the firecracker fall into the water and let out a series of angry, watery hissing noises as it fizzled out.

"Call in back up!" The KG was on his radio in an instant, though he could barely be heard over the sound of Jinx's great uncle, who was laughing so hard he fell into a coughing fit.

"Ooh, big man, scared of a little boy's snappers!" His great uncle was a large man, broad and muscular, even in his retired age. He stood up and gestured rudely to the KG. "Go on, call your friends! Let's see 'em come after my nephew!"

By now, the neighbors had taken notice of the ruckus. The Water Slums was an open area filled with water; sound traveled like flies around here. A few folks had come out of their houses to see what was going on, waiting with baited breath. Jinx saw a few of the mothers hustle their children back inside, while some of the teenagers he knew leaned forward, already raring for a fight.

"Get inside!" The guard shouted. He pulled his gun and aimed it at the older man, who looked completely unbothered. "You are violating a direct order!"

Any sense of good humor his uncle had was gone now. "Jinx," he said tersely, "you heard him. Go inside."

"But—!" Jinx was ten years old, too young to be involved in serious things, but old enough to want to be. His great-uncle cut him off sharply.

"I didn't stutter, get your behind inside, boy!"

Jinx fled into the house, shutting the door behind him. He tried to peer through the windows, but his auntie shoved him into the attic and scolded him for disobeying. While he was cleaning the attic as punishment, he heard outside noises: shouting, bullets, splashing. An hour later, his great-uncle came back in, as unbothered as ever.

"Those damn guards," he snarled. "Think they own us just 'cause they got guns. Well, guess what? We outnumber them twenty to one! Betcha he'll think twice before coming back 'round here."

This sort of thing happened about once a month in the Water Slums. A guard would come in, arrogant and uppity, demand things of them, and be displeased when the demands were not met. Jinx wasn't stupid; he knew that, the following day, some of the teenagers would stalk around wearing the KG armor, swagger in every step, boasting about how they'd beat the piss out of him and chased him off.

The KG would avoid the Water Slums for a week or so, not quite sure how to handle them. Then things would return to normal, until the next guard made the next mistake.

Of course, the Water Slums wasn't the same anymore. Ever since Princess Red had taken over, the whole place had been rebuilt. A "revitalization project," she'd called it. Brand new high-rises, high-tech office buildings, vehicle bays and factories. All the residents of the Water Slums had been bought out, leaving only the rich folks to swoop in and take over.

The thing that really chapped his ass was the filtration system. A bunch of machines set up all around the area, built to purify the water. All that polluted water he'd had to avoid as a kid? Gone, so quick and easy you'd never even know it was there in the first place.

Jinx hadn't left, though. His great-uncle's old house had been revamped; it was now a sleek, modern metal instead of the hobbled together scrap. Neon lights hung over the doorway, reflecting off the now-pristine water below. There was still a fire escape off to the side, hanging over the water. It wasn't the rusted metal and jagged wood of his youth. It was nicely painted, smooth steel. Even had a handrail.

Jinx took one last drag off his cigar and flicked it into the water. As the ripples spread out, his attention was caught by a squeal and a loud splash.

"Out of the way!" He looked up to see a KG, his blue armor gleaming in the neon lights. A group of teenagers, young kids really, were walking along the cement walkways. Battered and frayed backpacks, second-hand books piled in their arms, scruffy jackets that were a little too small for them: those were slum kids, walking home from school.

That had been another brilliant idea from the new Governor. A brand new school, right smack in the middle of the new sector, for the slum kids. He saw them every day, making the trek across the sector. Good for them. Maybe if Jinx had stayed in school, he wouldn't have ended up working for a guy like Krew.

The guard had pushed through the group, roughly shoving them out of the way. In the process, one of the girls had tripped over her own feet and fallen into the water.

"Kacy!" There was a tinge of fear in the boy's voice as he helped his friend up. The rest of the group glared at the guard as he walked past them. "You okay?"

She sputtered out water as she clambered up. "Y-yeah," she shivered. "But my homework…"

Jinx put two fingers to his mouth and whistled. The kids and the guard both glanced back at him, staring across the waterway.

"You gonna apologize to that kid you just knocked over?" he hollered. The guard scoffed and turned away again. Jinx took one last drag off his cigar and beamed it directly over the water. It hit the guard's helmet squarely near the eyes, and he jerked around.

"Hey! No littering!"

Jinx pulled out one of his lighters and flicked it open. The KG looked even more annoyed as he stormed over. The kids watched, terrified and intrigued. "Did you hear me? This area is a litter-free zone. Pick that up!"

Jinx popped another cigar out and lit it. He took a single, long drag off of it, until it was spent. He blew out a cloud of smoke above him, like a halo in the light, and then made direct eye contact with the KG. Without a word, he dropped the butt into the water.

"That's it!" The KG reached into his armor and grabbed a pad of paper. "That's a citation, and a fine, for littering."

He scribbled furiously on the paper and tore it off, leaning over to hand it to Jinx. The man raised an eyebrow, reached out, and took the citation.

"Now, you had to have seen this coming." He crumbled it up in his fist and tossed it into the water. "Why did you think that was gonna work?"

The KG blustered into his radio. "We need backup in sector 7!"

"Don't sound so scared," Jinx said breezily. "It's just a little trash, is all. Not like I threw you in the water."

The KG twitched angrily, and even though he wore the helmet, Jinx could tell he was itching to reach for his gun. Jinx snickered.

When they'd given the KG a paint job, Torn and Red had given them new orders, too. Weapons were for serious, life-or-death situations only. Gone were the days where a KG could pull out their gun and demand something from a citizen.

Of course, the attitude was still there. That kid was still in the water. That KG still hadn't apologized.

The guard didn't have a chance to respond to Jinx's taunt. Kacy suddenly ran towards him, shoving him hard from behind. She wasn't very big, but the force of her body was enough to knock him off his feet and into the water.

With a great splash, the guard fell. Jinx roared with laughter, so hard he started to cough. "You kids better scatter!" he called, but they were way ahead of him. They already taken off, jumping and laughing and shouting at their triumph, however small.

The guard hauled himself up onto the walkway, soaking wet. He started to head towards Jinx, but all the fun was gone now.

"Listen, blue boy," Jinx told him, "you better get your ass outta my sight before I take it there myself. And you better learn how to treat people right quick, or you and me are gonna have a private lesson."

Jinx stared at him stonily. Really, Jinx hoped this guy would come for him. He hadn't had a good fight with a KG in a few months. And, really, a lesson did need to be learned here.

But the guard huffed and stormed away, choosing to keep it peaceful. Almost disappointing, Jinx thought, as he sat back on the fire escape and lit another cigar. Oh well. The guards would probably be a bit more careful around the kids for a week or so. Rumors spread like wildfire in this city.

And all around him, Haven City listened.


When morning came, the sun streaking orange across the sky, Damas was still asleep.

Jak and Daxter had been up already, having taken over for the last few hours of the night watch. Sig woke with the light, rubbing his eyes and groaning as he stood. Together, they started to clean up their makeshift camp.

"Shouldn't we wake up the old guy?" Daxter asked as he gathered up their blankets. Damas was asleep, with his back against a crumbled pillar, his arms folded over his steadily rising and falling chest.

"Nah." Sig kicked sand over the glowing embers of their fire. "Let 'im go for a bit. Damas doesn't get a lot of rest, so if he's asleep, he needs it."

Sig put his hands on his hips and surveyed the area. "Alright, cherries," he said, "let's take stock. After those bad boys last night, I'm expecting the worst on the way home. Let's do an ammo check. Scatter gun?"

Jak nodded, flipping through his morph gun. "Two hundred left," he said.

Sig nodded, pleased. "Good. Blaster?"

"Only 150 or so."

"Vulcan barrel?"

"Fully loaded at 300."

"And the big girl herself, Peacemaker?"

Jak clicked to the right mod. "Fully loaded at 10," he confirmed.

Sig chuckled. "And here I was worried about you, rookie. Sounds like you're all ready to go."

"Uh, not yet," Daxter commented, holding up a finger. "Don't forget, our boy here has his eco garbage to use, too!"

"Right." Jak pursed his lips. "Um…since Damas is still asleep, do you think I have time to go grab some eco? I'm, um…out."

Sig snorted. "Used a bunch to flap those new wings, huh? Go ahead. We'll wait for you."

With Daxter and Sig finishing up the clean-up, Jak headed into the Temple. He knew his way around pretty well now; the Atrium was the closest place with eco vents, so he started down. The doors ground open and he stepped in, expected to be greeted with nothing but the echo of his own footsteps.

And, suddenly, there were a dozen eyes on him.

A group of monks, or at least, they looked like monks. They were kids, short and skinny, and dressed in the same kind of outfits the monks wore. They weren't wearing paint on their faces, but they did have the hoods on. They looked to be in the middle of some stretches or forms, their gangly arms spread out and hunched over themselves.

"Um…hi." Jak shifted awkwardly. "I, um…I just needed to grab some…eco…"

He shuffled towards the eco vents, feeling self-conscious. He reached out and watched the light eco swirl to his hand, sinking into his skin as he channeled it. He did the same with the dark eco, though this one stung as it settled below his skin.

A gasp went through the little group. He swung around to see that they were all staring at him, wide-eyed. "W-what?"

"You just channeled a bunch of eco!" one of them blurted out. "Are you Master Jak?"

Another one of the monks pinched the first one's arm. "We're sorry, Master Jak!" he said quickly. "We didn't expect to see you."

The crowd of tiny monks approached him, eager and hesitant at the same time. He looked around at them, unsure of what to do.

The monks all bowed to him, their hands clasped together clumsily. Jak rubbed the back of his neck. "Um…hey. Look, you can just call me Jak."

The monks ignored him, however. "Master Jak, please," one of them asked, so nervous her knees were shaking. "Will you show us your powers? Please?"

"I'm, um…I'm not sure I should…"

These kids were really young. He could still see, clear as day, the children in Haven frozen in fear, running away from him, the dark monster who came near. His dark form was terrifying to adults; these kids would probably never sleep again. And that was assuming he had no trouble controlling his darker side.

Still…they were monks, right? They had probably seen Seem channel dark eco. Though, she didn't have claws and fangs. He exhaled slowly and his eyes caught the eco vents, jolting his mind into realization.

His light form! He had a whole set of cool powers that didn't risk the life of the kids around him.

"I…alright, real quick."

Jak exhaled and focused on the light eco. He felt it sweep over his skin, and his new wings fluttered near his face. The monks around him gasped animatedly, clearly enthralled by his powers. He took a few steps forward before jumping into the air.

He didn't fly, not exactly, but the wings flapped to give him some height. The monks didn't seem to care that he was clumsy and new at it; they were delighted as they watched, pointing and chattering as he floated above their heads.

Jak landed across the room, then focused on the vent of light eco. He coaxed some of it towards his hand, letting it spin and twist between his fingers, before he clenched his fist.

The light eco swirled around and then crystalized, dropping into his palm as a small crystal that glimmered in the torchlight. He let the light eco burst off his skin, and the monks surrounded him immediately.

"Master Jak, that was amazing!"

"Please, can you show us another?"

"Can I touch your wings?"

Jak rubbed his face, embarrassed. "It's not that big of a deal," he told them. "Ionna can do the same thing, you know. She taught me."

"But Miss Ionna isn't allowed in the Temple." One of the younger monks pouted. "She can't show us her powers."

"Are you going to become a sage, Master Jak?" The oldest monk (or the tallest, at least) stepped forward eagerly.

"Uh...no, I don't think so," he began, only to be cut off by a chorus of voices asking questions. He glanced around at the monks, trying to figure out how to answer all them, when another voice rose over them.

"I wondered why you were all late."

Jak and the monks looked up. Seem had come in, her hands clasped together. The monks all quickly bowed to her.

"Please forgive us," they said in practiced unison.

Jak thought he saw Seem's lips quirk up slightly. However, when she spoke, her mouth was the same thin line it always was. "You are forgiven. No penance is necessary. But," she added strictly, "the morning chores still need to be completed. You'll have to hurry up if you want to have time to eat breakfast."

Evidently, the prospect of missing their morning meal was enough to kick them into gear. They all quickly flooded the doorway, chattering about dividing the chores.

"I'll harvest in the garden!"

"Does anyone want to trade? I hate filling canteens."

"I will, I've got to feed the bearded chickens."

"Oh!" One of the girls stopped in her tracks, spun around, and abruptly bowed at Jak. "Thank you for the lesson, Master Jak!"

The rest of them followed suite, bowing politely before they took off up the stairs. Jak hid his smile as he turned to Seem. "Sorry. It was my fault, I got a little carried away."

Seem waved her hand. "No need to apologize. They were, after all, learning."

"Um…are they…monks?" he asked haltingly. "They're pretty young."

"Intermediate acolytes," Seem explained. "They have one more set of trials to complete and they will be full-fledged monks."

"Oh. They seem really…young, though," he added.

Seem raised an eyebrow. "How old do you think they are?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know." He suddenly realized that he hadn't really known any kids for long enough to judge that. He, Daxter, and Keira had been the only ones in Sandover growing up, and the Kid himself was practically a baby. "Like they should still be babysat by their parents. Ten?"

Seem laughed, to his surprise. She gestured to the walls around them, adorned with murals and carvings. "Traditionally," she explained, "the monks are raised from a very young age in their Temple. Many years ago, in Haven City, children were separated from their parents and raised as orphans. Here, the children live apart from their parents, but they do visit occasionally. The Temple acts more as a…boarding school than a permanent home."

She started to gesture to the murals. "Acolytes are given three trials to complete," she continued. The mural she was pointing at showed a person completing some kind of a puzzle. "The first is a test of reason, for monks are advisors." She pointed to the next: a person wearing robes, lifting something round into the sky. "The second is brawn, for monks are a line of defense." She didn't even bother pointing to the third, which depicted a monk, now with robes and a hood, leaping over what appeared to be fire. "The final one is bravery, for monks are leaders."

Jak let his eyes continue down the wall. He looked, once again, at the carving that looked so familiar. A sunrise with lightning bolts, though he couldn't place from where. It didn't seem to have anything to do with the three trials Seem had been talking about.

"The first trial is given when the acolyte turns 8," she continued. "The second when the acolyte turns 13, and the final when they turn 16."

"Oh. So those kids are the 8 years olds." Jak nodded in understanding.

"No, they're 13 to 15 year olds," she corrected him. His eyes widened. "They've already completed the first two trials, but have to finish the trial of bravery."

"But they…they were really young," he sputtered.

Seem shrugged. "Youth is based on comparison. To Ionna, I am very young. To me, you are very young. To those intermediate acolytes, the beginners are very young. It's really a matter of perspective."

Somewhere above them, a bell rang out. Seem cleared her throat.

"I must apologize," she said quickly, heading for the exit, "but that's the bell for breakfast. I have to let the monks know of last night's events." She hesitated at the doorway, before adding, "And thank you for teaching them. They appeared to be very intrigued."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, anytime." Jak watched her leave, but he wasn't really paying attention anymore. He was trying to wrap his head around what Seem had said.

Those kids…they'd seemed like babies to him. But it bothered him, the more he thought about it.

Those kids were the same age he had been when he'd faced Gol and Maia.


Jak's birthday parties were…strange.

He was kind of jealous, because both Daxter and Keira always did something fun for theirs. Keira's father always organized hers with the villagers, holding a big feast with a bonfire and lots of presents for her.

Daxter was an orphan, since both his parents had died from some kind of fever, so he didn't have a party. But he always coerced Keira and Jak into going to Geyser Rock, swimming and roasting fish and collecting seashells.

"You only get one a year, ya know! So I should get the best fish today! And I get to keep the good shells, too!"

But Jak's birthday wasn't quite the same. For most birthdays, Samos woke him early in the morning and led him, alone, back up to the hut.

It was quiet and lonely: even though Keira and Daxter would both plead and try to sneak in, Samos refused and said that Jak had to celebrate alone.

The only presents that Samos ever gave Jak were games. Puzzle boxes, paper folders, card sorts. He sat on the floor while Samos watched, trying to rush through the games so that he could go play with Daxter and Keira. He'd never really liked puzzles, especially when he didn't even get a prize for winning.

Whenever he would finish it, Samos would congratulate him, then let him (finally!) run off to meet Daxter and Keira. They would head for the beach, or sometimes the jungle, to pick fruit and collect eco and play their own games.

Jak was so happy to get outside the stuffy hut, he completely forgot to take the puzzles.

As he got older, Samos stopped celebrating Jak's birthday. He liked that he didn't have to do anymore ridiculous puzzles and pretend he liked them, but without Samos' puzzles, it seemed like Jak didn't even have a birthday.

That was around the time that the villagers started making Jak work. The farmer would have him herd yakkows, the sculptor needed help with carrying materials into his hut, the fisherman would ask him to help haul in the catch each week. He never minded helping them, though he noticed they never asked Daxter for help.

Over the years, Jak became strong and scrappy, eager to prove himself and raring for adventure. He'd been raised by the Explorer, fostering his fearless spirit, encouraging him to try new things.

It wasn't long after his fifteenth birthday that Jak and Daxter visited Misty Island, and his entire life changed.