I heard voices echo in my head. I could just barely make out what it was saying.
"Memories linked."
The voice was scratchy and coarse, my eyes bled out, dying my vision red.
Through them I saw my life flashing before me.
I heard thousands of voices stacked on top of each other, not a single one intelligible.
Right in front of my eyes all at once, I saw my birth, friends, family, colleagues, every conversation, argument, fight, all that has happened right up until this moment.
A fog enshrouded my peripheral vision, only allowing me to watch these hallucinations. I screamed as loud as I could, but my vocal chords were restricted. I could only let out a pitiful screech. I tasted blood in my mouth, and there was an intense ringing far worse than tinnitus.
I collapsed onto the pavement, finally freed from my daze.
***
I opened my eyes and stared up, feeling rather weak. Sitting up against the bed's headboard, I saw a black stool next to my bed and a table.... on the table was some food, particularly a good-looking bowl of Oedle, a dish from South Rachenn.
Ah, I remember eating these every night while burning the midnight oil, always adding too much spice though.
Wait, what? I never did that, I didn't even know what those are. It's like I've known what those were all along, yet I shouldn't have.
Have my memories been tampered with? Perhaps it's a side effect of that blackout. At least I know I don't have schizophrenia, they've got to be caused by something else. I'm not complaining, I don't have to act like I know my brother anymore, because now, I do.
I looked down at my hands, seeing a needle pierced through my vein. I looked up to where the tube led to, an unusual translucent black solution in an IV bag.
Looking around, there was nothing much, just a depressing, white room with some covers over my legs. I was in a hospital.
A nurse came by, opening a shiny metal door, and she met me with a faint smile.
"Hello there, Mr. Entrigeur"
"Greetings," I said, weakly.
Another man walks in. Wearing similar clothes as the nurse, come to think of it, she neither said she was a nurse, nor did she look like one. They fashioned deep purple clothes, almost indistinguishable from black, along with white accents accentuating their bearing. The man had hazel hair, looked to be in his thirties, the woman a tad younger, was blonde.
"Mr. Entrigeur, let's skip the formalities shall we?"
"I'm from the Lynxes, Detective Nichtmann, she's Detective Milena. You blacked out near 15, Craigenbay street, at about 8:00 am,"
From what I remember, the Lynxes are a sort of government enforcement agency.
He continued speaking in a rather grim tone,
"Normally, this wouldn't be much of a problem, after checking in with your brother at his workplace, and your little sister in school, we've confirmed you've never blacked-out like this before, yet again, that wouldn't be any trouble, however, 22 other people from across the country, experienced similar symptoms, they were just about your age too."
The woman took it from there.
"Strange thing is, they too have never blacked-out in this manner, first thing, we detected rapid coruscations as well as unique vis signatures from all of you. Somehow, all of your signatures have changed entirely, which is unheard of, and none of you are Visprits either, which makes coruscations nigh impossible."
"Any idea as to why this incident occurred?", she inquired, half out of curiosity, half out of concern.
I paused.
It took a while before I looked through my new-found memories and consolidated all that information.
"Detectives, I guarantee you both, I haven't a clue about what is happening, how all of us are connected, and anything related to this. Am I in any trouble?"
I scratched my thumbs with my index fingers, hoping I don't get arrested for no reason.
"Currently, you've got no charges, nothing criminalising, we will have you take a test, is that okay?", the woman said, trying not to be threatening.
I might fail this test, but what's the worst that could happen?
***
I was being transported to some district headquarters in a car, looked vintage, though it's probably quite new with how light reflected off it, clearly in pristine condition.
The car was built unusually, looking anachronistic, as if an industrial era craftsman tried his hand at building a vintage Aston Martin.
Gave me a sense of longing for my home. Every afternoon after school ended, I'd follow my dad into our car, and watch as hundreds of people walked by, each searching for something. The buildings and skyscrapers seemed endless, perhaps once, I looked at those with wonder, now they're quite normal. Eventually, I'd fall asleep, the ride home was quite long, about an hour and a half.
They talked a bit amongst themselves, before giving me some more details.
They've temporarily titled it: "The simultaneous, illogical syncopes of college graduates in their twenties", quite a mouthful.
All victims were temporarily disoriented, had slow recollection of their experiences and a complete reset of their souls.
Every human has a soul, a cornerstone of life, nay, of being. A soul is what pumps vis—a type of energy I suppose— throughout your body, most people have dormant souls, those that don't circulate vis. One must awaken it by one of three methods, each granting different types of vis manipulation. This gets taught in school to children as a subject, even doctorates are available.
I used to be a Visprit, a Scrypter to be exact.
The test was simple, become a Visprit—you may choose what kind—and fully showcase your abilities. Based on how my soul reacts, they might get some information out of it.
I sat down on a comfortable couch in the lobby, it was scantily decorated, yet exuded a brilliant look. A couple photos, of Lynx achievements—technically Lynx was short for Lynxbird—and some of the Lynxbird logo a small bird, with eyes as dark as night, staring not just at you but your very soul, it had beige, black and brown feathers, with the occasional splash of gold, a short beak, and feathered protrusions resembling ears, all fit into a silver crest, with a short quote in Rosèlangue that read, "Justice is blind; neither deaf nor daft"
After a short wait I was moved to another room.
Detectives Nichtmann and Milena both approached me from further into the room.
"Decided yet?" Nichtmann asked me
"Not yet" I said.
From my recollection, there were three types of Visprits: Scrypters, Reagers and Striders.
Scrypters brand their souls—which were right next to the heart—by placing their hand over their sternum, with the intent to burn something into it. You'd begin with one word branded on their soul, this would be their "root word", this grants you the ability to harness the power of this word.
Notably, this power wouldn't have to be the same even if two people had the same words branded on their soul. This word also isn't in Rosèlangue, but some other forgotten language.
Reagers and Striders each had substance creation and artefact creation respectively, The original owner of this body didn't know much about these two, perhaps due to disinterest, or maybe he just forgot.
Either way, my best bet right now would be to be a Scrypter, I'm not good with weapons, so Strider isn't a viable choice. I could choose to be a Scrypter or Reager, but the latter is an uncertain fate, besides, due to the influence of my new memories, I'm more inclined to choose the former.
"I've made up my mind."
They led me to a closed-off portion of the room from which they came.
"Alright, proceed with the awakening"
Melina's eyes were nearly glimmering with curiosity, Nichtmann however was indifferent.
I moved my hands to the centre of my ribcage. I took a deep breath.
Here we go.
My soul was screaming in pain, so was I.
My body was tensed. I tried not to move in case that messes something up.
Eventually the pain was spreading to nearby parts of my body.
It's stopped.
Words and information rushed to my head. Each detailing every part of my root word and abilities.
Interesting.