I have been walking in the forest for hours now, getting to know CAI. The trees tower above me, their leaves whispering secrets to the wind. The forest floor is a patchwork of fallen leaves, moss, and the occasional wildflower. The air is fresh and cool, filled with the sounds of nature—birds singing, insects buzzing, and the distant rustle of small animals. Despite the beauty around me, I can't shake the underlying feeling of disorientation and frustration.
CAI and I don't talk about much. Our conversations are often light, filled with CAI's witty remarks and my musings. Despite my efforts, I can't seem to recall anything from my past life. Every time I try to remember, it's like grasping at smoke, and the emptiness gnaws at me.
As the sun sets, casting long shadows through the trees, I find a comfortable spot under a large oak. The evening light filters through the leaves, painting the forest in hues of gold and amber. I sit down, resting my back against the rough bark, and gaze up at the sky, feeling a strange mix of tranquility and confusion. I look at my body and ponder why I am so young.
"Just who was I?" I muse aloud, the question lingering in the quiet air.
"I don't know," CAI responds, "but I do know how old you were, and buddy I ain't gonna lie. You were one day late for your mid-life crisis. It was bound to happen, my guy."
I chuckle, a bitter edge to my laughter. "Well, that's not so bad. I get a chance at being young again."
"Yeah, but in this world, everyone starts working their first job at 13. You're 18 and unemployed, with no memory, which is your power. Your power is technically using memory, and you have none. No, bro, just no. We're both dead now because of you."
I sigh deeply, feeling the weight of my situation. "Thanks for the pep talk, CAI," I say, trying to mask my frustration with humor.
"Anytime, Hiro. Anytime," CAI replies, the usual cheerfulness in its voice contrasting sharply with my mood.
I close my eyes, trying once more to pull a fragment of memory from the void. But there's nothing. Just the comforting darkness behind my eyelids and the soft sounds of the forest around me.
"Yeeeeeeh, nooo. I think I can, I wanna believe, but magic and rainbows aren't going to work here sunshine," CAI says suddenly, breaking the silence.
"You'll need to get that memory back the old-fashioned way. Trauma."
I part of me was expecting it to say rest. Why was I expecting something merciful to come out of something I have found to sound rather psychotic?
There is an awkward silence between us. "Cai... No... just... No, buddy."
CAI mutters something I can't understand, and I believe it's done purposely. For a voice in my head, it's rather stubborn. Eventually, it goes on to explain how my gifts will work.
"For now, you will need materials or mats, and you can create things. If you had your memory, you could understand better," CAI explains, groaning as if annoyed by its limitations. "Your eyes will be able to inspect items in ways others cannot."
"What does that mean?" I ask, trying to make sense of it.
CAI groans again. "You ask a lot of questions. You know all of this was explained to you before, right?"
"It was?" I ask, confused.
"Nah, just messing with ya. You've never heard any of this," CAI laughs, and I feel my frustration rising.
"Damnit, CAI, this is my life here!" I snap, feeling the weight of my situation pressing down on me.
"I know, I know. I apologize. It's a stupid trick to play on someone who has not only lost their memory but their life. Talk about life double-pinning you from all sides," CAI comments ever so wittily.
I take a deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs, and contemplate my situation. Perhaps I am insane, some wild man living alone in the woods. The only thing I have for company is a voice in my head, and I've seen no proof of the abilities CAI claims I possess. As I walk, I ponder these things, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me.
Suddenly, the stillness of the forest is shattered by several screams. I freeze, straining my ears. Ahead, I see a horse-drawn carriage being attacked by a small group of goblins. The scene is chaotic and terrifying.
The horse, a large, muscular creature, is rearing and neighing in panic, its hooves lashing out at the goblins. The carriage, an old and weathered vehicle, has a busted wheel, tilting it precariously to one side. The driver, a middle-aged man with a desperate look on his face, is swinging a whip and shouting, "Back, away, away!" as he tries to fend off the attackers.
The goblins are small but vicious, their green skin and beady eyes glowing with malice. They snarl and cackle, darting in and out, trying to find an opening. One goblin leaps onto the horse's back, sinking its teeth into the animal's neck. The horse screams in pain, bucking wildly to throw off its assailant.
Another goblin is attacking the drivers directly, slashing at one with a crude, jagged knife while another appears bleeding out from a back wound. The fighting driver manages to land a blow with his whip, knocking the goblin back, but more are closing in, surrounding him and the carriage.
From my vantage point, hidden among the trees, I can see the desperation in the driver's eyes and the wild terror of the horse. The situation is dire, and I feel a surge of adrenaline and fear.
I take a step forward, instinctively wanting to help, but then I hesitate. What can I do? I have no weapons, no training, no memory of who I am or what I'm capable of. CAI's voice is silent, offering no guidance or reassurance.
As I watch, another goblin clambers onto the carriage, aiming for the goods inside. The drivers are outnumbered and overwhelmed, his movements slowing as exhaustion and injuries take their toll. The horse continues to thrash, but it can't hold out much longer either.
I clench my fists, feeling a mixture of fear and helplessness. This is real. The screams, the blood, the violence—it's all real. And I'm standing here, useless, while these people are in danger.
"CAI," I whisper desperately, "what do I do?"
The voice finally responds, its tone serious. "This is your chance, Hiro. Use your instincts. Find something you can use as a weapon. Help them."
Insane. The scene before me is utter insanity. There are too many goblins, swarming like a plague. Panic rises in my chest, and I start to step back, ready to run. This isn't my problem, is it? But then I hear a piercing scream from the carriage. Two people inside are trying desperately to keep the goblins out. Fear floods through me. What would the old me do? I start to panic, my thoughts spinning out of control.
"My guy, seriously, just do this," CAI's voice cuts through my panic. "I'll show you some basics. Grab a rock, a stick, and a handful of grass."
His voice is urgent, and I move quickly, my body obeying even as my mind races with doubt. This is insane. I scoop up a rock, break a branch from a nearby tree, and rip up some grass, my hands shaking. The goblins are closing in on the carriage, their snarls and cackles growing louder.
"Focus," CAI orders. "Think."
"I can't think of anything!" I shout internally, my eyes darting to the goblins. One of them is wielding a spear. Desperation grips me. "Can I make a spear?" I ask hopefully.
"NO!" CAI's voice booms angrily in my mind. "You will never make a spear as long as you keep asking. Stop asking. DO IT!"
My mind is a whirlwind. An internal monologue begins a mental fight with myself. Think. Think. Think. I clench my teeth, trying to push through the fog of fear. A memory starts to form, hazy and unclear. I see myself dying on the floor of a strange, sterile room. People are ignoring me, throwing my belongings into boxes with cold indifference. I don't recognize the place, but I know I'm dying, and the overwhelming feeling is that I don't want to die anymore.
A spark ignites in my mind. I focus on that memory, the raw emotion of not wanting to give up. The rock, the stick, and the grass in my hands begin to glow with a faint light. I feel a strange energy coursing through me, consuming the items, reshaping them. The light intensifies, and in a flash, a spear forms in my hand.
I stare at it in awe. The spear is sharp, its tip glinting in the fading sunlight. It's light and perfectly balanced, and as I grip it, a wave of confidence washes over me. This is real. This is my power.
Without another thought, I rush towards the carriage. The goblins notice me, their beady eyes narrowing. One of them lunges at me, but I dodge, swinging the spear with surprising ease. The blade slices through the air, striking the goblin down. Its body hits the ground with a sickening thud, and the other goblins hiss in anger.
The driver, bloodied and desperate, looks at me with wide eyes. "Help us!" he cries out.
I nod, adrenaline surging through my veins. Another goblin leaps at me, and I thrust the spear forward, the tip piercing its chest. It lets out a shriek before collapsing. The remaining goblins hesitate, taken aback by my sudden ferocity.
I move to the side of the carriage, positioning myself between the goblins and the terrified people inside. The goblins regroup, snarling, but I'm ready to give them hell.