Kris stared at the man named Cillian, confusion knitting his brows.
'Young master?'
The term felt strange on his ears, especially since he had been an orphan for as long as he could remember. Was this some kind of twisted joke?
'Am I dreaming right now?'
The last thing he recalled was a high-stakes mission to retrieve hostages from a group of terrorists abroad.
He had thought he'd been successful, until he caught sight of the drone hurtling toward him at breakneck speed.
The explosion that followed was a cacophony of chaos, blinding light, and agonizing heat. And then there darkness.
Now, waking in the heart of a dense forest, the reality of his situation began to settle uncomfortably in his gut.
'Did someone found me and dragged me into a nearby forest?'
He wondered how he could have ended up in a forest when the nearest one was in another city; the notion seemed utterly ridiculous.
'How is that even possible?'
Cillian noticed his young master staring blankly, his gaze lost somewhere between confusion and fear.
"Young master, do you remember me now?" Cillian asked gently, mindful not to further disorient him.
"Cillian, was it?" Kris replied, his tone cautious, tinged with disbelief.
"So you do remember!" Relief washed over Cillian's features, but Kris's mind was still racing.
"Wait a moment. Why do you keep call me 'young master'? and Where are we? And who do you think I am?" The questions spilled out, his brow furrowing with frustration.
'Do I have a secret family? A rich parents with hidden fortune?' The thought gnawed at him, prompting an odd mixture of intrigue and dread.
Cillian's expression shifted to one of shock.
'Could it be? The young master is suffering from amnesia.' A wave of concern washed over him.
"Young Master, your name is Kris Blazewood. You're sixteen years old this year. We were on a data beast hunt in the Cinder Forest. The last time we met, you told me to wait for you at the entrance. I... I regretted that decision every day." Cillian's voice quivered, emotion threading through his words.
"My name is indeed Kris, but not Blazewood. My full name is Kris Valentine, and I'm already 25 years old." His voice was calm, yet confusion lingered in his tone.
His heart raced as he grappled with this disjointed reality, wrestling with the fragmented memories of his life.
Nothing felt right, and yet he felt an inexplicable connection to this stranger who claimed to be his guard.
"Young Master, I believe you might be a bit confused," Cillian said softly, his voice tinged with concern.
He knelt closer to Kris, his heart heavy with sadness and a sense of responsibility.
"Let's wait for the medical team to arrive, as well as the Masters. They will help you remember everything."
Cillian's expression was a mixture of worry and guilt, knowing that Kris had endured trauma in the forest alone.
The thought of his young master suffering without him gnawed at his conscience.
Cillian had always seen himself as a protector, and the fact that he had not been there when Kris needed him most filled him with regret.
He desperately wanted to reassure Kris, to remind him that he wasn't alone anymore, but he could see the confusion clouding his young master's eyes, making it difficult for him to process everything.
"You're safe now," Cillian said, his voice trembling with emotion as he fought back tears.
The weight of relief mixed with sorrow pressed heavily on his heart.
He reached out to gently grasp Kris's shoulder, hoping to provide some comfort amidst the chaos swirling around them.
"I won't let anything happen to you again. Just hold on a little longer."
'Crazy.' Kris thought as he stared at the man in front of him and shook his shoulder to brush of Cillian.
'This guy must be a lunatic from an asylum. Who the heck released him?'
Just as he prepared to push himself up, an odd sensation prickled at his back.
He reached behind him and his fingers brushed against something cool and flat.
As he pulled it into view, a warm, glowing orange light enveloped the card, shimmering brightly against the sunlight.
"What is this?" Kris asked, curiosity lacing his voice.
"It's a Data Beast Card! Young Master, you did it! When you told me you wanted to go somewhere, did you mean this?" Cillian's voice was ecstatic.
"What Data Beast did you capture?"
Kris, still confused, examined the details on the card.
[ Pyro Cub ]
Rank: 1
Element: Fire
Potential: Platinum
Stats:
Health Points (HP): 150Attack (ATK): 60Defense (DEF): 40Speed (SPD): 70Magic Power (MP): 50Abilities:
Claw Strike:
Type: Physical Attack
Damage: 15
Description: The Pyro Cub slashes with its razor-sharp claws, delivering a swift and precise attack that inflicts direct damage to the enemy. This move can leave the opponent vulnerable to follow-up attacks.
Flame Pounce:
Type: Physical Attack / Elemental Attack
Damage:40
Description: The Pyro Cub leaps forward, igniting its body in flames as it tackles the enemy, dealing fire damage and possibly igniting the target.
Scorching Bite:
Type: Special Attack
Damage: 50
Description: The Pyro Cub unleashes a powerful bite engulfed in flames, generating intense heat that damages its enemies. This attack has a chance to burn the opponent, inflicting damage over time.
Defensive Blaze:
Type: Buff
Effect: Increases defense by 20% for three turns.
Description: The Pyro Cub surrounds itself with flames, enhancing its defenses and reflecting some damage back to attackers.
Additional Notes:
Weaknesses: Water and Ice-type attacks.
Strengths: Grass and Bug-type creatures.
Evolution: Can evolve into a stronger form, such as [--------] , at rank 3 when it has sufficient experience or a special item.
Special Evolution: [LOCKED]
"It's a Pyro Cub," Kris said calmly.
"A WHAT!?" Cillian exclaimed, his shock evident.
Before he could ask more questions, a loud sound echoed from afar, it was a helicopter rapidly approaching them.
Cillian, realizing the urgency, waved his hands to signal the helicopter to land in the open field nearby.
The helicopter descended swiftly, its powerful rotors whipping up a gust of wind that rustled the trees around them.
Cillian's eyes were fixed on the approaching aircraft, relief flooding through him as the medical team disembarked.
As the medics rushed toward them, their voices were a blur of urgent commands and reassuring words.
They carefully lifted Kris onto a stretcher, checking for injuries and monitoring his vitals.
Kris's mind was still hazy, fragments of confusion swirling around him like leaves caught in a storm while he clutched the Data Beast Card tightly in his hand.
Amidst the chaos, he caught sight of figures emerging from the helicopter.
A man and a woman stood there, their faces a mix of hope and fear, but to Kris, they were strangers.
The man stood tall, his presence commanding despite the weariness etched on his face.
He had an air of authority, with sharp features that spoke of resilience and strength.
The woman beside him exuded warmth, her eyes shimmering with both hope and fear.
There was an unmistakable bond between them, a deep connection that hinted at shared memories and unspoken worries.
Kris watched them, a knot of uncertainty forming in his stomach.
He could see the love in their eyes, but it felt distant and foreign, as if they belonged to a world he couldn't access.
They looked at him with a mixture of relief and heartache, as if they were trying to bridge a chasm of lost time and memories.
He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.
"My baby!" the woman cried, her voice breaking through the chaos.
"Thank God you're safe!"
The man reached out, but Kris flinched, instinctively recoiling from the contact.
"Who are you?" he managed to ask, confusion lacing his voice.
The medics paused, glancing between the young man and his parents, sensing the tension in the air.
The woman's face crumpled, tears spilling over as she took a tentative step closer.
"We're your parents!" she sobbed, her hands shaking as she extended them toward him.
"We thought we lost you forever!"
Kris's mind raced, struggling to process the whirlwind of emotions and information.
Parents? He had been abandoned at an orphanage, and these people felt both unfamiliar.
A heavy weight of uncertainty pressed down on him, mingling with the fading remnants of disorder and confusion from his recent ordeal.
"I... I'm not who you think I am," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
He clutched the card in his hand, the only thing that seemed to connect him to this bewildering reality, and somehow, it provided him with a bit of comfort.
"Kris, that's your mother! Don't you recognize us?" his father's voice trembled, disbelief evident in his tone, as if he couldn't comprehend that his son, whom he had raised for sixteen years, had lost all memory of them.
His mother and father stepped forward, their faces etched with a blend of hope and desperation.
They enveloped Kris in a tight embrace, their arms wrapping around him as if to tell him that he will be okay from now on.
As the medics stepped back to give them space, Kris felt the warmth of his so called parents' embrace, but it was clouded by his bewilderment.
The helicopter's propellers thumped overhead, drowning out their words.
It felt as though he were hearing muffled murmurs, their meanings lost in the chaotic hum. Kris laid there, staring blankly, adrift in a sea of confusion and disorientation.
One of the medics approached them, a reassuring smile on his face.
"He'll be alright," he said, his voice steady amidst the chaos.
"We'll make sure he gets the care he needs. Just give him some time."
Cillian interjected, his brow furrowing with concern.
"But he might be suffering from amnesia. He doesn't recognize anyone, not even the Masters." His voice trembled slightly as he spoke, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
The medic nodded, his expression shifting to one of understanding.
"That's not uncommon after a traumatic experience. We'll monitor him closely and provide the right support. He just needs time to heal."