To Remember

I’m almost ready. By that, I mean all my stuff is packed, I’ve prepared for my journey, and have done almost everything I had meant to accomplish before I leave. In that sense, I’m almost ready. But mentally, - emotionally - I’m not ready. I don’t want to leave my friends - my family - my home. I’m not prepared to face the thoughts and feelings that I will have every time this life will come to mind. I haven’t done anywhere near all the things I’ve wanted to do, said the things I’ve wanted to say, or feel the things I’ve wanted to experience. I’m not ready to go, to leave it all behind. I’m not ready. Nobody could ever really be ready. But I don’t have a choice.

 

I make one a final check to verify that I have everything - for the third time. I know that I’m just stalling, but I have to stop. I have to leave before I run out of time.

 

A few minutes ago I had just finished going through the Titan Main Frame, erasing any information on me. Now according to the system, there is not - and never was - a such thing as “Raven”. No data, no files, no notes. No pictures, no mentions; nothing. As far as the computer was concerned, there never was a fifth titan. And soon, there won’t be. The computer doesn’t remember me, and in a moment, neither will they.

 

I had spent a few minutes wiping my prints from just about every surface imaginable. What once was my old bedroom was now just four blank grey walls, identical to any other empty storage room in the rest of the tower. I had used a spell to fit all my things into a small bag, and had done several sweeps to make sure that I didn’t missed anything. I hadn’t.

 

Looking at the clock, I notice that I have three minutes left. Three minutes left, and then I would be gone. Quickly, I put the necessary enchantment items in my hand. I had to get the spell right; there was no margin for error.

 

Standing in the middle of the Main Ops room, I start to recite the spell. The cameras in the tower were all down, and should remain so just long enough for me to complete the spell and leave the tower. Then the security system would switch back on, seemingly undisturbed, as if nothing had ever happened.

 

As the spell is under way, I think about my friends. I am going to miss them deeply, but it was my fault that I was even in this predicament. Quickly, I shove these thoughts away. I need full concentration to get this right.

 

For what felt like years but was in reality only a few seconds, I continue chanting in a language long since forgotten for thousands of years. To a random passerby - if the spell had been chanted in public, mind you - it would seem as utter gibberish, despite the rhythmic pattern to the irregular sounds.

 

I stop chanting, and give one last fleeting thought of each of my four teammates. One quick picture in my mind, an incomplete summary, before uttering the last words of the curse.

“Azarath Metrion Zinthos.”