Inside a brightly lit room, a young boy and his mother were seated. As he nibbled on a piece of candied mango, his mother sat hunched over, humming a tune in his ear. Feeling content, the boy asked his mother, "Mom, when will Dad come back?" Looking down at the young boy, the mother simply smiled before answering, "Soon."
Just then, a loud beep was heard coming from outside. Her eyes lit up, knowing that her husband had returned. The young boy jumped up in joy, knowing that his father had returned, and went rushing to the door to hug him. As soon as the father opened the door, a small body collided with his chest, yelling, "Daddy, Daddy!"
Unfazed by the projectile, the father picked up his son, twirling him around joyfully before setting him down next to his mother. Rolling up his sleeves, he called out to his son and wife, "Alright, I'll make dinner tonight. How does that sound?"
As he headed to the kitchen, the young boy smiled and waited for dinner.
Jerking up from the bed, Jake took in large gulps of air. Sweat poured down his forehead before he realized that it was all just a dream. Wiping off the excess, he turned his attention to his surroundings.
Pure white decorated his vision, and the smell of disinfectant filled his nose. A beeping noise could be heard from his right, signifying the presence of a monitor of some sort. As he turned his head to investigate his surroundings, a small metal fence came into view.
He knew right away that he was in the infirmary.
Just then, the door opened with a click. In walked a Winglos nurse, her four white wings tucked in. "Feeling better now, mister?" A warm, caring voice came from her, filled with worry.
Warmth filling his body, Jake subconsciously answered, "Never felt better." Blushing immediately, he tried to bury his head, only to realize the white blanket was too small. So he went with plan B.
He coughed a couple of times, trying to steer the situation somewhere else. "So, what happened to the watch? Who won?" Chuckling behind her dainty, gloved hand, she answered as kindly as she could, "You were the only one who fell."
Heart sinking, all Jake could muster was, "I see..."
He knew what he was trying to do was an ambitious goal: first match, first win. Deep in his delusion, he believed that he was special, that he was the chosen one. He would be the one who would lead the future, the leader of his time.
The deaths of Druis, Beebo, and Biba cracked this façade. The deaths of Armandrill, Soldier 149, and the Secretary further widened it.
And today's defeat shattered it.
He knew that he had lost, and lost miserably at that.
But then, he remembered.
He remembered how Beebo sacrificed himself to save Grid, despite knowing he would die. He remembered Biba stalling for time, despite knowing he would be torn apart. He remembered Druis burning his lifespan, despite escaping easily. He remembered Armandrill rushing to the front lines, despite not having the obligation to do so. He remembered Soldier 149, and how she was ripped in half trying to save the very organic beings she did not understand. He remembered how the Secretary blew himself up, desperate to spread hope when he had none himself.
As Jake recalled these memories, a spark ignited within him.
A spark called courage.