Iemier's mind went cold. He's unable to move in his own mind as events play before him that were hidden from him. Possibly memories that were never meant to be rediscovered, for his own good or for that of others.


You see him sitting on a weathered chair, stoic, still ... His head cast towards a window..  You look at the window, the vision blinding until your vision is pulled towards it with a disorienting swirl of more blinding light. You're no longer standing in the dark room with Iemier, and you're not even in your lab with him and Rose ... You're smart enough to realize what this is. A vision. A memory, nothing you do will change the cause and effect. All you can do ... is look, watch, and see what Iemier saw. As your vision comes back to you, you see a cityscape with housing, a river, and blossoming trees.  It is ... a serene village, beautiful landscape, jade figures touching the sky.  

  

Torii Gates leading up to the shrines to give thanks, worship, and give tribute to the various gods and spirits. You saw small paws, and the flowing fabric of a tiny, child-sized yukata billowing in the soft spring winds, sakura blossoms in the wind.. and the vision shifts. Looking up to see a tall, incredibly well built woman with a small bust. She has on a flowing blue yukata, smiling ear to ear as she raises your hand up to kiss at it, grabbing the other to put you into a flying spin. You see her brilliant blue eyes, wild auburn hair, and loving expression. She then cradles you, using the other arm to wave at someone.


A much shorter man, lithe almost but clearly been a hard worker his whole life. A monocle at one eye, a patch on the other. He wore not a yukata, but a shōzoku, he is the chieftain and village priest. The most important man in this entire small country. He sees the two of you, and waves back; running up to kiss the woman for several long moments, and then picks you up and kisses your forehead. He smells of incense, sweat, and familiarity.  It's the most peaceful you've ever felt, the most happy, the most loved. He sits you down, and they both take one of your soft, but surprisingly not small; otter paws.  The man speaks.  "My precious boy, you keep up your training at this age and you might even beat Reimei at Kido by the time you're ten!" He says with a laugh, but you see the woman give him a sharp scowl.  "Garmr, don't tease your son like that. He might be growing fast, but he was born an otter, not a wolverine.. But I must say, he is tall for his age.."    


She cooes, ruffling your hair, your ears. Love. True love, the touch of loving, doting, and caring parents.  These were true memories. Not the fabricated ones of poor, broken down parents short on their luck that abandoned a child at an orphanage... there is nothing that could have split these two from a child they cherish so dearly, a child . . . with such potential and a promising future. They occasionally lift you up, swinging both arms to raise you off the ground; you hear yourself giggling as you look from one, to the other.  "Love you mah! Love you papa!"  A voice comes out from who you're observing the past of. This sweet, innocent voice of a boy that knew no misery, no sadness. Only love, hard work, and peace.  

  

Things are suddenly eerily silent. The woman's ears twitch and the man crouches. There's a whistling sound. "Garmr d-" before she can finish the word, whatever she was going to say was much too late. The man, he falls over, there's a tiny black rod in his back, a rod with flicks of a feather near the base.. He tries to sit up, blood at his mouth, his pristine white shōzoku covered in red at the belly. Glint of black metal sparkling in his blood, and the shining sun above.  "Reimei, take Iemier and r-" Another whistle, this one  through his neck. This otherwise strong man. The strongest man you ever knew in your whole life, the one you look up to, love with all your heart, bathed with and talked about how you wanted to marry mah and become an even better man... lay with his soft brown eyes wide but dull, mouth agape as blood pours from his throat and pools to the floor, staining his short blonde hair; the weight of his body as it slumps breaking the arrow in twain that went through his neck.   

  

You feel yourself being lifted up. You shake. You're scared. Emotions you've never truly felt before now.  

Fear.   

terror.   

Anger.   

Sadness and Grief.  

M i s e r y.  

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

You try to be as stoic as you can. Strong, and a big boy. Big boys don't cry. That man told you that you should never let anyone see you cry in public, and you were only allowed to cry three times. On his deathbed. On your mother's deathbed, and if your wife were to die before you. You cry.  You cry and you don't stop. You wail, you scream. "Shh, shh Iemier, be quiet.. I know.. I-I know darling, but.. But we'll be okay.." The woman speaks, trying to cover your mouth as she runs into the dense forested area near the village shrine high into the mountains. Your face being pressed against the woman's small chest. You feel mostly muscle press against your cheek. But her scent. Sweat, various flowers, and . . . m i n t.  She's breathing hard, she's running as fast as she can. Trees are zipping by, Whistling is coming from behind even still, but she's dodging them somehow. Her fighting instinct tells her this is something she can't win, so it's flight mode.   

  

Fast, faster than she's ever ran... too fast. There was a trap. A very, very simple trap, but one with brutal, deadly efficacy. She saw her destination. The shrine. "If I can just.. we're almost there.  It'll be okay baby, the gods will answer us, I'm sure they won't let y-" She's cut off, her voice changing to a howling scream as you and her are but a stone's throw away within reach of the shrine.  You don't see anything exactly, but there's a strange glimmering. Thin, glimmering lines near the edge of the ground, and... a sandaled paw a few feet from you and the woman. She's howling louder, snarling, but then she bites down and grits her incredible, pearly white teeth. She clutches you tight with one arm, pulling herself across the debris-covered ground with the other. You smell the bitter scent of blood, like when you scraped your knee, or were beaten and cut by one of your teachers or upperclassmen a bit too hard.. but insanely more intensive. You squirm, and wriggle. There's footsteps, hushed voices, and the sound of something heavy dragging further beyond your vision in the forest.   

  

The woman stops, grunting, she tries to move to no avail. There's the sound of a thud, and she grunts as she's kicked in the side with such intensity that the two of you are rolled over, and you can see the drag-markings she had made. A heavy, pouring trail of blood where she'd been trying to drag herself from, and you see a figure stepping into view.  A tall woman with messy, curly red hair and a soft, trusting face. "Knew you'd head this way.. they always do, all that might.. all that brawn.. but oh so predictable!" The mink-woman says with a clap of her hands, moving down to where the woman is holding you, is bleeding profusely, and pats the amputated section.  "Amazing though, pulling yourself this far, you're not dead yet, that's good... good." She straightens up and motions with a simple nod of her head, and you hear "Ma'am!" being shouted in unison. A discordant yet perfectly in sync shout.. a shout that includes a familiar voice to you.  She takes several steps back, crouches down, and just.. sits there.  The one holding you tries to get up, still gripping you tightly, and you cry.  

  

You cry and cry as this woman forces herself up, and hobbles on a single leg; her much shorter tail straining under the weight of her body to try and stay standing up.. And then the whistle. She manages to dodge, but you're dropped, you fall to the floor near the curly-haired woman. She smiles at you, and reaches out a hand. This woman isn't a friend. You snarl your teeth, hiss, and take up a fighting stance... only for what seems to be a dainty arm to reach out and squeeze your skull so tight it feels like you might die, then and there. "Her name is Reimei, yeah? Such a pretty name.. I think I'll take it~" She giggles, and forces you into her lap, pinning you down with ease.. and then she moves her paws just a little bit more; fingers digging against your eyes, forcing them wide. "This is the best part, especially since she's still breathing.. Ahh, the memories..~"  

  

She coos into your ear. A sickening coo while she giggles as though a cute joke was just made. You're forced to look ahead as … three, five, eight, and then twelve. Twelve weirdly dressed .. men? You can't tell, but you are terrified as you see your strong, amazing, beloved mother is pushed back down with ease, screaming, punching, yelling... and then that glistening wire is seen... and then she can't punch. She bleeds. Blood. Blood. Blood. Her clothes are torn free. Her body, full of scars all over, patches of skin missing from a lifetime of fighting. Of protecting. All for naught. "Don't hurt my boy.. please. do wh-whatever to me.. don't h- Garmr..?" She asks.. There's a figure walking into view between the tears. A lumbering, bloody body in tatter and debris-covered shōzoku.   

  

"I think that's enough by this point.. alright, go ahead and say goodbye to mother and father~" The woman who claims to have taken your mother's name speaks, and she speaks in such a casual singsong tone though every word is laced with malice and ice.  The man who you can only see the back of, with the outfit your father was wearing, moves closer to your mother. "Wait.. y-your face.. you're not Garmr.. you're not my husband.. wh-what are y-hhfk"  Her cries, screams, and words are cut off along with her tongue. The figure and figures surrounding her pin her down as the one in your father's garb has its way with her.  All the while, pieces of both are being lopped off. A paw. A leg to the knee. An arm to the elbow. An ear. An arm to the shoulder..    

  

Soon, there's nothing left of either aside from blood, and body-parts.  That's when it happens. The blood pools as a sigil glows around the bodies. The two bodies become one.  One hulking figure.  A figure with blonde and messy auburn hair.  A figure with no face. It joins the collective group of now thirteen figures, all staring your way. At you. Through you. They step closer. You're held down. You have no control over anything. "Now just.. hold still, my new experiment.. Oh? Is someone there..?" The woman asks but your face goes cold, the grip is gone but you can't move.




You can't move.





Something's wrong.



They move closer.



They are          looking    at       you         they    are looking   through      looking through          you see                                             they see you




They    know  you  They reach out to touch you they                    are closer they      are  almost there




They're   about to touch you to touch                             you to        touch            touch touch you




. . .



. . . .




"Oh, Jun's a cute name too.."


. .



. . .


The vision is cut before it touches. Iemier is passed out, barely moving, breathing shallow, splayed on his back.