Beebo stood watching the boy in astonishment, the words stumbling out of his mouth. "You don't know? Did you lose your memory?"
The confusion in the boy's eyes faded, replaced by something resembling despair, as he placed his hand on his forehead. "No... I can't remember anything. I can't even recall... my name."
"Here, eat this banana. It'll help you remember!" Beebo said enthusiastically, offering the banana to the boy once again.
Before the boy could respond, a familiar voice interrupted them—weak and exhausted: "Bee...bo..."
Beebo spun around quickly to find Kath standing behind him, gasping for breath.
Kath was breathing heavily, taking two steps toward them before collapsing to his knees, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he'd spent far too long without air.
"Kath!" Beebo shouted, running toward him in concern. He extended his hand and helped his friend to his feet, holding him firmly. "Well done, my friend—you survived it!"
Kath could barely speak, each word breaking out between desperate gasps for air: "I... was... so... scared..."
Kath finally raised his head, struggling to catch his breath. But his gaze suddenly froze as his eyes fell on something behind Beebo. He began to focus a little, despite his exhaustion, his eyes narrowing sharply as though trying to confirm a strange sight before him.
"The human... woke up?" Kath said in a low voice, tinged with astonishment, as he pointed toward the boy sitting on the ground.
Beebo glanced between Kath and the boy, a faint smile appearing on his face. "Yes, he woke up—and he's lost his memory too!"
Kath stepped forward slowly, the shock still clear on his face, while the boy looked back at him in obvious confusion, as though the world had become even stranger than he had imagined.
Kath approached the boy quietly and extended his hand with a friendly smile, despite the exhaustion evident on his face. Speaking with warmth, he said, "Nice to meet you, original human."
The boy looked at Kath's outstretched hand, hesitated for a moment, and then shook it, his face still clouded with confusion. "Original human? Why did you call me that?"
Kath replied with a mix of seriousness and curiosity, "Because you're like the first humans who lived on Earth in the past. There's no sign of the transformation on you."
The boy's confusion deepened, his brow furrowing as he repeated, "Transformation? Did you say transformation? What do you mean humans transformed?" Suddenly, he grabbed his head with both hands, a sharp headache piercing through him, as if he were trying to remember something—but in vain.
Beebo placed his large hand gently on the boy's shoulder and said in his deep voice, "Calm down. Don't push yourself too hard."
Kath continued, his tone calm but firm, "Let's head to the kingdom first. This place might become unsafe soon, and then we can talk about everything."
The boy slowly rose to his feet, his eyes shifting hesitantly between Kath and Beebo. He was bewildered, as if trapped in a strange dream he couldn't understand. His mind was overflowing with questions, but he knew he didn't have any other options.
Taking a deep breath, he finally said in a soft voice, "Alright... I'll go with you. But I hope I don't regret this decision."
*************************************
In the room housing the massive cylinder, the screens flickered faintly, lines of text scrolling rapidly as they attempted to establish contact with unknown centers:
"Center 1... Connecting... Failed"
"Center 2... Connecting... Failed"
"Center 3... Connecting... Failed"
"Center 4... Connecting... Failed"
"Center 5... Connecting... Failed"
The messages repeated, signaling futile attempts to revive a network tied to a lost world. After a minute of heavy silence, a deep mechanical clicking echoed through the room. The second capsule, attached to the side of the cylinder, emitted a soft hiss, its intricate lines glowing faintly with a dim light.
Slowly, the capsule door slid open, releasing a cold cloud of mist. From within emerged another young human—short black hair framing his face. But what caught the eye most were his eyes. They were far from normal; in place of conventional pupils were three concentric circles, each smaller than the last, surrounded by three parallel lines on each side of the outer circle, resembling extended geometric wings.
The boy stepped out of the capsule with slow, deliberate movements, as though testing the ground for the first time. His face remained perfectly calm, void of any emotion. He raised his hand in front of his face, clenching and unclenching his fingers slowly, observing the motion as though assessing his body's functions or ensuring their efficiency.
Silence reigned supreme, broken only by his steady breaths and the faint echo of his footsteps as he moved across the small chamber. His otherworldly eyes scanned the devices around him, methodically and meticulously, as if mapping every detail with robotic precision. It was evident that this boy was unlike anything familiar.
He did not utter a word. His stillness and silence shrouded him in an aura of mystery and foreboding, as though he were programmed for a purpose yet unknown to anyone.
He stood still for a moment, his strangely designed eyes scanning everything around him, meticulously surveying the grand and ominous scene with robotic precision. His steps were steady and measured, as though moving according to a calculated plan, until he suddenly stopped at the corner of a crumbling wall.
Quietly, the boy stepped back, his eyes fixed on a sight before him. He hid behind the wall, tilting his head slightly to peer around the edge. What he saw was a colossal bear, its size rivaling that of a small house. Rocky protrusions covered its entire body, forming a natural stone armor, with sharp spikes jutting out from its back and shoulders, further amplifying its imposing and terrifying presence.
The bear was hunched over the ground, devouring an unidentifiable creature, its form obscured by the blood and dust scattered around. The sounds of tearing flesh and grinding bones echoed through the space, but they didn't seem to faze the boy. He remained completely still, observing the scene with his unearthly eyes.
With intense focus, he began to analyze the beast before him. His gaze methodically moved across the bear's body, scrutinizing the rocky formations and the natural movement of such a massive creature. There was no fear on his face—only profound calmness and the look of constant mental calculations.
It was clear that this boy possessed an extraordinary ability to assess and strategize, but at the same time, he appeared devoid of any familiar human expressions, as though his emotions had been replaced by something else—something incomprehensible.
As the boy continued to observe the enormous bear, his eyes suddenly froze, staring blankly at nothing. In an instant, a glowing screen appeared before him, floating in the air. It wasn't tangible, but rather a holographic projection, filled with streams of data and information. It displayed precise statistics: strength, speed, defense, energy, alongside other skills and labels.
The boy raised his hand as if to touch it but stopped abruptly, glancing around in search of a safer spot.
He quickly moved toward a narrow alley between the debris, scanning the area with a swift glance before crouching into a concealed position behind a fallen piece of the wall.
With a light motion, he raised his hand again, and the screen reappeared before him. His eyes focused intently as the information shifted and flowed, as though he were interacting with something invisible to others. His expression remained frozen, but the movements of his eyes betrayed intense analysis.
Suddenly, the screen began to flicker and distort. The text and symbols warped and glitched, as if the system itself was malfunctioning.
"Access Failed."
This was the message that appeared in bold across the center of the screen before it abruptly disappeared and the interface returned to its normal state.
***************************************
After a long walk, a massive kingdom came into view, its towering walls and wide gates opening onto bustling streets teeming with life. The boy stopped, astonished, his eyes widening noticeably as he stared at the scene before him.
"It's like I've traveled back in time," he said softly, his voice filled with awe.
Bibo continued walking, seemingly indifferent to the boy's reaction, carrying the sleeping Kath on his back. He passed by the boy without turning and said in a matter-of-fact tone, "This is the Kingdom of Linus."
The human boy couldn't shake off the unease of being in a place he didn't know, surrounded by so many strange creatures. He felt a pressing need to find somewhere else.
The boy glanced at Bibo, then back at the kingdom, his face etched with anxiety and fear. Moving hesitantly, he followed Bibo's steps, though his unease was clear. As they walked, the boy spoke to Bibo in a low, worried voice: "Listen… Bibo, wait a second. Isn't there somewhere smaller than this kingdom?"
Bibo suddenly stopped and turned to the boy with a puzzled look before asking, "Why?"
The boy scratched the back of his head nervously and said, "Well, I don't really like crowded places. I think they might mess with my mind. And you already know about the headaches I've been having. So, aren't there any human houses far away from people?"
Bibo stared at the boy in silence for a moment, seemingly considering his request. Finally, he smiled as though he had made up his mind and said, "Alright, I know a place. It's a special place of ours."
Relief washed over the boy's face, and he smiled back, saying, "Great, let's go there then."
Bibo turned and began walking in a direction away from the kingdom, with the boy trailing behind him—his steps still tentative but noticeably calmer this time.