Invaders of Darkness

Chapter 4 - Prisoner

Author's Note: Okay if you haven't figured out where this story is sort of going, I'm disappointed. Like seriously. So since I'm assuming you have, I'm just gonna say this now since you'll figure out in the first scene anyway. I decided to make Ezra's mind wipe happen with a drug instead of more electrocution or whatever since I've already been waaaaaay too awful to meh poor boi. ;-;

Warning: Brotherhood level violence and manipulation, I guess? (For those of you who have even read Brotherhood)

Also this chapter is a bunch of cringy trash so just prepare to read garbage that will make you cringe your face off. Like seriously. I think I forgot how to write a single bit of emotions and nothing makes a grain of sense. Whatever. -_-

~ Tirana Sorki

He opens his eyes slowly, blinking at the bright lights glaring from the ceiling over his head. He aches everywhere, and everything feels... strange. What is this place? Where in the world is he? For that matter... who is he? He can't even remember his name right now. As hard as he tries, everything comes up blank. He can't remember anything at all, come to think of it. What's going on?

Slowly sitting up, he looks around the room. It looks... a lot like a medbay, he thinks. If that's the right word for it. At least he remembers that much. A droid is hovering a distance away from the bed and upon seeing he's awake, flies over to a nearby door disappearing out into a hallway.

What should he do now? Get out of bed? If he did, what would he do then? He doesn't even know what's going on, after all. Maybe he should wait? Yes, he decides finally, that's what he'll do for now. Maybe he can ask the droid what's going on when it comes back.

He doesn't have to wait long. Moments later, the door to the room opens again and the droids comes back in, but this time there's someone with it. A green skinned woman. His mind still seems annoyingly hazy, and it takes a moment for him to call up the name of her species. Mirialan. She's a Mirialan.

What's wrong with his mind? Why can he remember other things, but absolutely nothing about himself? Maybe he'll get some answers now.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, approaching the bed. He blinks in surprise. For some reason, that was the last thing he was expecting to hear.

"I..." Hearing his own voice out loud sounds... strange. He trails off, unsure what he should even say. Why does he almost feel like it would be in his best interest to give a certain response, but he's not quite sure what? He shifts uncomfortably, opting to remain silent.

"What do you remember?"

Well that at least is an easier question, though answering out loud feels equally strange. Something about having a casual conversation with this person feels totally... wrong. And something about her presence scares him, though he's not sure why. "Nothing really," he admits finally.

She nods in understanding. "I didn't think so. You were injured seriously in the battle, and the medical droids weren't sure if you would ever recover or not."

Oh. That might explain a few things, like how he got like this. He ignores the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something isn't right about the explanation. He doesn't know who she is, but why would she be lying? But battle? He fought in a battle? That part, at least, sounds right. Sort of. He needs to stop overthinking this. It's making his head hurt. Literally.

"I am the Seventh Sister," the woman continues, "Your number is IR-1001, and that's what you will respond to."

"Number?" he echoes in confusion. That can't be right. Numbers are for droids. He's – he's a person. People have names, not numbers.