Shia was ten when he witnessed his first death. It was a street fight, outside his house. After a set of unknown circumstances, his father had angered some men who’d followed him back to the house, attempting to take revenge.

His father wasn’t a particularly high octane talent when it came fighting; however, as with most people involved in organized crime, which would later be known as the Iquen by outsiders, and he also had something most people didn’t have—The mindset to kill or be killed.

Shia was barely tall enough to peek outside the window, he couldn’t see most of the fight despite his many protests as his mother wouldn’t let him. However, he managed to catch a glimpse of his father run a man through his stomach before his mother pulled him away from the window.

He wasn’t scared, or horrified.

In fact he was thoroughly impressed.

And as with most kids this age who’ve yet to wrestle with the ideas of life and death. “That’s cool!” He thought to himself, quick and fancy, almost as if seeing a magic trick for the first time.

“Why were you fighting with those people?” Asked the boy named Shia the day after.

“Want to know more?“ His father would express eagerly after nine years of a vow of silence with his wife, broken after a single question uttered at the dinner table.

And so, his mother’s worst fear was realized.

The boy wanted to be like his father.

From there on out, instead of his mother reading him bedtime stories about cute animals and famous people. It was now his father, telling him stories about himself, his life full of violence and crime.

Or maybe the stories were exaggerated. Perhaps his dad’s job was not as grand as he made it out to be. Either way the damage had been done. A couple months later, Shia came back home bruised and bloodied, having been in his first fight while at the academy.

Shia’s family wasn’t particularly poor, wasn’t particularly desperate, in fact they wouldn’t even be considered below average. The money the dad made was simply too lucrative, this is why they had the funds to send Shia to a well off private school. He was a kid given many opportunities and paths. He would soon be kicked out of the school, after continuing this behavior.

And the mother, the poor woman, what could she do? She relied on her husband’s income as well. She couldn’t just take Shia and run, he would starve! She prayed that it would just be a temporary phase yet every day it seemed more and more unlikely. And despite many attempts, ultimately, the boy didn’t want to be helped.

One day his dad would leave the home and never come back. Shia’s mom now took care of him. She finds a job tending for cattle and horses, unsure of how to proceed but carrying on anyways.

Almost six months later a group of unidentified men would visit the family and inform them of his fate after a botched hit on a unexpectedly well guarded Shesuan trader.

Shia was now sixteen, still causing trouble everywhere he went. He’d recently become a contender in an underground fight ring. Still mediocre among the regulars but he was improving quite rapidly. He was honing his skills for the time he would finally join the Iquen while making some money on the side. His fathers death did not disturb him at all, he knew to expect stuff like that, he believed himself to not be naive or disillusioned, he believed himself to be ready.

His mother finally gave him an ultimatum after years of arguments.

“I am tired.” She finally told him. “If I can’t stop you from throwing your life away then do whatever you want. Just know that when you die I will kill myself as well.”

Shia was now at a crossroads. Despite it being difficult to really call him a “good kid,” and for all of his flaws, he still loved his mother.

“I will try it out. If it gets too dangerous, I’ll simply quit.” Thought the sixteen year old.

And so, being familiar with the in and outs of Oliviand, Shia managed to find a member, introduced himself as his father’s son, was shortly initiated and became a part of the Iquen.

But, as he would soon find out, the Iquen was not what he was at all expecting. The conversations around him felt… wrong, they weren’t talking about or doing the things his dad always told him about.

The Red Division. Shia would overhear these words repeatedly. He didn’t know what it represented, but it sounded important.

“What is the red division?” He would ask innocently.

“What is the red division?”

“What is the red division?”

I begin screaming as the next subset of memories began to flood my mind. Pain, why is it so… Shia’s memories fan out into cascade of unspeakable events. I writhe around as my limbs, my skin, my very self is filled with torment.

The last thing I would see is… My mask. Why do I see my mask? Stop, no, don’t put it on, get it away from me! No, No, NO!

The noises suddenly stop. I killed him. My mask just…

“Please describe your experience.”

I stare at my captor blankly. “You just put my mask on someone else.” I say.

“Interesting, what gave it away?”

“You just…” I stop myself before I say anything further. “No, you will learn nothing from me.” I say defiantly.

The man stares at me for a moment, taking his time to think.

“Well, I know your friend said to not give anything away about yourself, and I know you probably have your guard up but… Make it easier for yourself yeah? It’s not every day someone can do research on a drifter. Nothing will come out of it, I do this purely for personal curiosity, and maybe—“ He gestures at me. “Maybe it can satisfy some of yours as well.”

“I don’t care about what my mask can do.” I lie but keep my voice steady.

“I’m not just talking about your mask.”

I freeze up. He’s deliberately being vague right? How much does he know?

“If you’re negotiating with me right now that means I’m currently holding some sort of power over you correct?” I decide to play his game.

“Perhaps, but…” The man reaches out and grabs my mask.

“Wait-“

He lifts it clean off my face.

He examines the interior of it, holding it between his fingers casually. I could not do anything but stare in shock, I thought the suggestive power of the mask was too strong for someone to just… take it off. I thought that I was the only one…

“I’m going to tell you a little secret. None of my Sananku works when you don’t have your mask on. It’s unknown territory for me.”

“Sananku…” I say weakly, still haven’t quite wrapped my mind around his taking off my mask.

“Yes Sananku, over the years I’ve discovered that Anku and Sananku are not wildly different from each other. Anku is simply the activation of muscles beyond their physical limits and Sananku is the activation of… Just about everything else if you get what I’m saying.” He lifts up my mask to show me.

“See, I do feel a very strong urge to give this back to you, but there is a little part of my brain.” He taps his head. “I can just tell it to shut off and I no longer feel as strongly, then boom, I can hold your mask.” He smiles. “And everything that I can do to myself, I can do to you. All your thoughts and feelings… You’ll never know if their your own or not, unless you keep that mask off.”

My breathing becomes shallower as I realize that I wasn’t going to get out of this place.

“Well, I’ll leave you with your mask for a while yea? Interested to see how you’ll try to get out of this room.”

‘Wait!” I stop him as he turns around. Every fiber in my mind was telling me not to say this but… “Could you… Is it possible to recover lost memories?” Before I was ten years old, my memories before I appeared on Earth. They could be the key to… Everything.

“Hmm. Well, only if I get to see them too deal?”

“Yea.” I find myself saying in response.

He drops the mask back into my hands, nods at me, and leaves. There were so many things I needed to think about, but one annoying thought buzzed in the back of my mind.

I need to do something about Shia’s mother.

Shaz

“Man, I got a pair of some smart kids.” Yeluh says as he enters my room. “What could you be thinking right now… Hm?” I glare at him but don’t respond to any of his words. I know exactly who this person was, I cannot acknowledge him or I’ll be trapped in his game too. Close my mind and maybe, it won’t be breached. My hands had been tied behind my back, I could not resist physically.

“Do you know something I don’t? Maybe have a plan to get out of here? It could work, who knows? Give it a shot.” Yeluh says. “I’m interested.”

Yeluh looks at me for a couple of seconds, as if expecting me to say something back.

“I guess we’ll just skip to the difficult part.”

I gasp, clenching my teeth as I feel waves of foreign waves run through my mind. It was near mind control, Yeluh and the red division’s understanding of the human body was maybe decades ahead of current research.

“You… Won’t… Take it from me!” Electricity, gunpowder, the assembly line, and especially the Wondergauss. None of these things should ever see the light of day for many centuries.

“It wasn’t yours in the first place was it? Technology of the past, before the great war and the rift, don’t you want to return us back to the glory days?” Yeluh’s voice was remarkably persuasive.

“We told you already.” I grit my teeth. “The day we rediscover those technologies is the day our civilizations with collapse once again. I will die before a single word comes out of my mouth.”

But I was selfish… I close my eyes.

“Yet, you’re always toiling away, making these things in your little workshop, if you truly believed this you’d have joined the rest of your little family a while ago no?”

Violent emotions surge through my mind. “Fuck… You!” Was all I could think to say.

“Oh I’m not calling you a hypocrite. Giving away such valuable information to a shady guy like me, of course you wouldn’t want that. I’m just calling you a liar. You’re different to the ones who came before you, that’s why you’re still alive.” He looks at me expectantly.

However, I glare at him defiantly. My dream… Is over. I finally accept this fact. I will never cross the rift.

“Where’s Avery?” I say.

“We didn’t catch her.” He says plainly. “That Shesuan girl you were with did something weird and escaped with her… Oh I have an idea! How about this, if you tell us everything you know from those texts, then maybe I can call in a favor and we’ll stop looking for her. After all, we already have Serim who can help out. She’s important, but not necessary.”

“No.” I immediately reject his idea. “If Avery is captured so be it. I will never say anything to you regardless.” I wince but the alternative was thousands of times worse.

“Okay.” Yeluh, stands up. “What’s your plan then? You’ve made it clear you can’t be convinced with just words, so now I’m going to pry it away from you.” I watch as he digs his nails into his palm, blood dripping down his fingertips.

I then struggle against the ground, uprighting my torso against the wall. “Do you know how many people died in the great war?” I ask him as he raises his hand against my forehead.

“That would be interesting to learn I suppose.” Yeluh stops.

“The population of Rai before the war was estimated to be at 4 billion, all that remained afterwards was 30 million. The consequences were so catastrophic that all of humanity got set back thousands of years.” This is not to mention the lingering natural Tetsu of the Wondergauss detonations. The outside world would not be able to sustain life for years contributing to possibly millions more undocumented deaths.

“Mmh, that’s quite a lot of people.” Yeluh continues to look at me expectantly.

“You must understand how dangerous the technology behind those times are then? I cannot reveal it nor do I hope it’s ever recreated for the rest of time.”

“Ah, you’re trying to appeal to my conscience now.” Yeluh looks to the side and thinks.

And thinks.

And continue to think…

What the hell is he doing? He’s oddly still.

“Okay.” Yeluh claps. “Very good, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Did I? Did I convince him? I watch dumbfounded as Yeluh walks out of my cell.

No. I couldn’t have… I bring my arms from my back and rest on my legs. Then immediately look down in surprise.

…Hm?