Chronicles of the Forgotten

The first sound was a choked gasp, followed by a sharp intake of breath. The first sight was a man, his eyes snapping open to a blinding, crystalline light, his face inches from a stranger’s. Her eyes were a deep, captivating brown, a stark contrast to the pale, unblemished skin of her face. They were so close he could see the intricate web of her iris, a detail that should have been familiar, but was utterly foreign. He realized he was holding her, his arm wrapped around her waist, her head tucked into the crook of his shoulder. Her body was soft and warm against his. He felt an instant, undeniable comfort, as if they had been in this very position for a thousand years. A quiet intimacy settled over them, a sense of shared space and effortless closeness. And then, he realized they were both naked. A gasp from the woman. A sound of pure, unadulterated shock. She looked down at his arm, at their tangled limbs, and the quiet intimacy shattered. A shriek tore from her throat, a sound of pure panic and utter bewilderment. He instinctively recoiled, releasing her as if he’d been burned. He scrambled away, pulling his legs to his chest, his mind a panicked void. She did the same, her face a mask of scarlet-red shame and terror, her arms crossed desperately over her chest as she let out a string of confused, high-pitched wails. They had no memory of how they got here, or of each other, yet their bodies knew a bond that their minds had utterly forgotten. The tragic comedy of the situation was lost on them entirely. They weren't the only ones. All around the vast, domed chamber, seventeen people were stirring, each rising into a state of shocked confusion. The air filled with a chorus of bewildered shouts, hysterical tears, and frightened whimpers. Seventeen people, all naked, all with no memory of their past, all standing on a shimmering floor that reflected their own panicked faces back at them. The dome was a single, flawless crystal, bathing them in a soft, ethereal glow that made the scene look like a forgotten masterpiece of tragic art. The light was beautiful, but it did nothing to soothe the fear. Amidst the chaos, a man burst out laughing. He wasn’t a maniac. He was simply overjoyed. He had woken up on his stomach, arms and legs splayed out in a perfect star. He pushed himself to his feet, a wide, beatific smile on his face, and began to twirl, completely unconcerned with his nudity. He was tall and lean, with long, wild hair that bounced as he spun. He seemed to find the entire situation exhilarating, his joy a sharp, comedic counterpoint to the wails of the others. He pointed to the man and woman who had shrieked and shouted, “Hey! You two woke up tangled together! You’re soulmates! This is amazing!” His unbridled optimism only made the two of them scream louder. In a far corner, hunched against the wall, sat a young man who was an island of calm in the storm. His name was Soma. He knew that much. He was the only one in the entire dome who knew his name. He didn’t know why, or how, but the name was there, a single anchor of reality in a sea of confusion. He quietly observed the others. He noted their varying reactions as if they were specimens under a microscope. The man who was now trying to lead a group—a tall, imposing figure who was trying to get everyone to calm down and form a single unit. This one was a born leader, no doubt. The quiet, shy girl who was hiding behind the tall man's back, trembling like a leaf. A mage, perhaps, or something equally delicate. The pragmatic woman with short, practical hair who was methodically checking the walls and the dome for an exit. A warrior, perhaps. She was not a worrier; she was a doer. The woman and man who had woken up together—they were the most interesting subjects of all. The fact that their minds had no memory of each other, but their bodies did, was a fascinating paradox. He found himself drawn to them. The collective panic lasted for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only seven minutes. Just as the screaming reached a fever pitch, a smooth, metallic ring echoed through the dome. A hatch, previously invisible, slid open with a soft hiss. The air outside smelled of rain and petrichor, a welcome change from the sterile, odorless air of the crystal dome. A man stepped inside. He was the very picture of flamboyance, a dandy from a long-lost age. He wore a coat of deep crimson with golden brocade, a ruffled white shirt, and tight black trousers. His silver hair was slicked back, and a knowing smile was plastered on his face. He held a wide-brimmed hat in one hand and waved the other with a flourish. “You owe me your lives now! Hahahaha! Just kidding!” he said, his voice echoing in the quiet now that everyone had fallen silent. “I can feel your confusion. Your terror, even. But don’t worry, everything’s going to be just fine! I understand that you all are confused. But once you leave this realm, you will eventually remember your names.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the naked, shell-shocked crowd. “Oh, by the way, my name is Soma. I am here to welcome you to Amaya! You can call me S-O-M-A, the same way you’d spell it. Or just Soma. Well, I prefer that. You all can also call me S-O-M-A. No? Never mind! I am here to welcome you to a world that is not an illusory state!” He then waved his hand with a theatrical flourish, and a stack of plain clothes appeared before each individual. They were simple, gray tunics and pants made of coarse, rough material. Rags, as the man himself called them. “Wear these rags for now, and once you remember your name, you can come to my office, have a meal, and receive your allowances,” he said, his smile never wavering. "Yes! Allowances! For now, your mission is to find out your name!" The overjoyed man was the first to grab his clothes, his face falling as he slipped on the drab tunic. “Boo! Hiding the goods!” he said, with an exaggerated frown. A few people nervously scurried to put on the clothes, a sudden wave of embarrassment hitting them. The man and woman who had woken up together clung to each other, whispering in hushed tones, their shame the most palpable thing in the room. The silent Soma in the corner watched the whole exchange with a new sense of wonder and suspicion. Another Soma? Was this a joke? Was it a trick? The man's words—"You owe me your lives now"—echoed in his mind, followed by the flimsy "just kidding." It was unsettling. He slipped on his own clothes, their roughness a strange but grounding feeling. The new Soma noticed him, a flash of recognition in his eyes. He winked, a gesture that was both conspiratorial and deeply unsettling. "Well, I hope we can talk more later, my little friend," he said, before waving his hands again. The hatch to the outside world opened wide, revealing a vast, forested landscape under a gray, overcast sky. It was raining. It was beautiful. It was terrifying.