Chronicles of the Forgotten

Manu

The first few minutes outside the crystal dome were an exercise in controlled chaos. Everyone was a blur of frantic motion, like ants suddenly released from a shoebox. I stood apart, a stone in a flowing river of confusion. My head was a vault of silent data, a single name, Manu, my only possession. The man with the flamboyant coat, the other Soma, had a smile that promised more than he was willing to give. I found his theatricality to be a fascinating anomaly, a performance designed to disarm and control.

My gaze settled on the pair from the dome. The woman, Iris, was a portrait of quiet dignity, even in her ragged clothes. She had a unique, almost ethereal beauty. She was speaking to the tall, powerfully built man who had helped her to a bench. He was a mountain of a person, a physical specimen that the bland tunic could not hide. I'd seen him earlier, a brief moment of silent concern in his eyes as he looked at Iris. Now he was sharing a laugh with her, a genuine smile on his face. She, in turn, had given him a name, and he had accepted it like a gift.

"Ziggy," she said, the name sounding a little goofy on her tongue. The man, Ziggy, simply nodded. He seemed happy to have a name, even a temporary one. I filed the information away. He was a natural protector, and she was a natural to be protected. An ideal, if tragically mundane, pairing. But my data told me there was another anomaly. I glanced over at the man with glasses, the one who had woken up with Iris in the dome. He had calloused hands, the mark of a hard worker. He stood apart, his shoulders hunched, his eyes fixed on Iris with a look of profound, heart-wrenching loss. His face was etched with a memory she didn't possess. His name, I noted as he checked in later, was Beruf. The silent tragedy of it was a detail I found intriguing.

A sudden, sharp clap echoed through the air, snapping everyone's attention to the charismatic Soma. "Alright, you lot! Gather around!" he bellowed, his voice filled with an actor's gusto. He stood before a black obsidian pad, about the size of a dinner plate, set on a makeshift wooden pedestal. "Before you can do anything useful with your lives, you need to remember your names! The glorious gift I've given you!"

His words were met with a murmur of confusion. Soma just laughed. "Ah, the gift of confusion! So lovely! Simply place your hand on this little tablet and speak the first word that comes to mind! It will either be your name, or something equally as foolish. Either way, you get to get paid!"

One of the more timid individuals, a young woman with wide, nervous eyes, was coaxed forward. She placed a trembling hand on the obsidian. "Klein," she whispered. The pad glowed with a soft, amber light. "Klein it is!" Soma declared.

A few more names were spoken. The over-enthusiastic man from before bounded forward, a manic grin on his face. He slapped his palm onto the pad. "Zed! My name is Zed, I'm sure of it!" he shouted. The pad flashed green. "Zed! A perfect name for a loud person!" Soma laughed.

Then, a confident man with a confident stride stepped forward. He was the one who had tried to lead everyone earlier. His chest was puffed out, and his face held a permanent scowl of annoyance. "This is a waste of time. What is this, some kind of initiation ritual? Get to the point," he grumbled, not bothering to touch the pad. "I already know who I am."

Soma’s smile tightened into a thin, unsettling line. “Ah, a bold one. You remind me of myself, but with less charm and more unnecessary brooding." The tension in the air shifted from playful to something cold and dangerous. "I hope you are not as arrogant as you appear."

"And if I am?" the man challenged.

Soma’s hand moved in a blur, and a dagger, seemingly made of pure darkness, shot toward the man's face. It was meant to be a warning, a near-miss, the kind of lesson a predator teaches its prey. But before it could even get close, the man’s hands moved, and a shimmering, multi-layered shield of pure energy sprang into existence. The dagger, a weapon capable of cutting through steel, bounced harmlessly off the barrier and clattered to the ground. The man's face was a mixture of surprise and triumph.

“Ah! A barrier mage! And a powerful one at that! It seems you remember more than your name!" Soma said, his laughter returning. "What a wonderful surprise! You are Eris. You'll make things… fun."

Eris just glared, his defense still held high, as if daring Soma to try again.

The atmosphere returned to normal, though a palpable sense of unease now hung over the crowd. One by one, they all came to the pad. The timid, nervous one, who had stood near Klein, remembered his name as Beruf. As he did so, he cast a quick, desperate glance at Iris and Ziggy, then quickly looked away, the anguish in his eyes a raw, undeniable emotion. I made a note of it. A love triangle, perhaps?

Iris finally came forward, her cheeks still faintly flushed from her conversation with Ziggy. She placed her hand on the pad, her gaze cast downward. "Iris," she said softly. The pad glowed with a cool, blue light, confirming her name. I noted that she did not look at Ziggy, at Beruf, or at me. She was still trying to disappear.

I was the last to approach the pad. I had no illusions about its magic. It was nothing more than a bio-sensory device, a scanner that could read the subtle energy within us and unlock the buried data. I placed my palm on it, the obsidian cool against my skin. "Manu," I said, a name I had already known, a fact I found fascinating. It was a name that had survived the process.

Soma smiled at me, a direct, knowing look. "Good to see you again, my little friend," he said, the phrase sounding less like a greeting and more like a warning.

With the roll call concluded, Soma addressed the group, now a mix of named individuals and still-unnamed faces. "Welcome, recruits! Now that you have a name, you have a purpose! This world, Amaya, is a beautiful place. But we are under threat from invaders. Other worlders who seek to destroy our way of life." His voice was full of manufactured gravitas. I noted the careful wording. He was hiding the fact that we were also "other worlders." "You are now adventurers, soldiers! Your mission is to hunt and subjugate these monsters. The pay varies, of course!"

He gestured to a large chalkboard behind him. On it, a list of creatures and their bounties were scribbled in chalk. "Goblins, kobolds, imps! Cheap, nasty, but a great way to earn a quick buck!" he announced. "For those of you with more... ambition, we have the mid-tier. Orcs and shapeshifters! A bigger risk for a bigger reward. And of course," his smile widened into something truly sinister, "for the truly brave, we have the apex predators. The undead and cannibalistic tribes. But I wouldn't recommend that for a long, happy life!"

As his speech droned on, I found my mind drifting, processing the information. The man, Soma, was a salesman, a recruiter for a war he had manufactured. We were not heroes; we were meat. We were tools. I looked at Ziggy, a natural warrior who was now being paid to fight. I looked at Iris, who had a power she barely understood, one that made her a valuable asset. I looked at Beruf, who was lost in a memory of a woman who didn't remember him. I looked at Eris, a powerful mage who had just been tested. And I looked at myself, a silent observer with a name and a singular ability: to watch. And I knew, in that moment, that my purpose was to understand this world, and my role was not to fight, but to survive.