Log One
When he opened his eyes, he realized several things: He didn't know who he was, where he was, or what he was doing there.
He blinked and sat up, registering the room-temperature material under him. His bones creaked and complained, and he winced. His muscles sent fiery bolts of agony down his nerves. How long had he been lying here? Where was here?
He was surrounded by darkness, and his eyes weren't adjusting. He reached out but didn't connect with any walls, so he could only wonder what kind of place he was stuck in. He crossed his legs, flinching as his joints complained, and came to a sudden, startling realization.
He had no memories. None at all. Only one word, blurry and jumbled, was in his mind. He focused on it, half-closing his eyes, but it only got harder to focus on. He gave up after a few more tries, but the word taunted him, like a mirage. Just within reach, on the tip of his tongue, yet so far away.
He sighed. He didn't know his past, his age, even his name. His brain ached like it was trying to access something that should have been there but wasn't.
He rubbed his temples, attempting to soothe the headache, which only half worked- but he could deal with it. Lowering his hands, he set them on the material under him, unsure how long he'd have to wait for something to change, or if anything would change.
What was he supposed to do? How had he ended up here? Countless questions were bouncing around in his head. He ignored all of them except one, which he whispered into the darkness.
"Who am I?" No response, of course. He hadn't expected one.
He looked down, surprised that he could see. He was wearing a dark green hoodie with a blue knife on it, and blue pants with green stripes. He wore purple gauntlet gloves and sneakers. In his coat pocket, he felt a soft blue-green beanie.
He half smiled as he registered a color theme- at least he knew something about himself now. He had no idea what his face looked like or anything like that, but he hoped he would sometime.
Only a few seconds after the question, he sensed a presence. He couldn't explain it, only that he could feel someone else there with him. They'd just appeared.
He could sense a powerful aura and immense intelligence, but he also knew in the back of his mind that he could do more than that at full strength, but he didn't know exactly what. He only knew that he could do better.
Whatever had happened to him had drained him of most of his strength, leaving him with only about twenty percent. Even then, he knew he was on a higher level than most normal people.
Before he had time to dwell on that, the other person made a startled noise and then asked him a question, sounding highly defensive.
"Who are you?" The voice sounded like a mix between AI and human, not quite either but a little of both. It sounded vaguely-yet distinctly- feminine.
He refrained from speaking, knowing that he'd probably say something stupid like I don't know or Why don't you tell me? Which were probably not the answers this person wanted.
He didn't have time to talk anyway, because the other person asked another question almost immediately.
"How'd you get here?"
YOU ARE READING
SOL FILES: REGRETAVATOR FANFIC
AdventureFor 13+. Contains: Gore, graphic language, fight scenes, intense scenes. DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU KNOW REGRETAVATOR LORE. Sol can't remember who he is, where he is, or what he's doing here. His fate is uncertain. His mind is foggy. But he is stron...