It hung in the empty darkness, bereft of light, bereft of touch, bereft of identity. It did not know how long it had been trapped in the darkness or who had trapped it there. The darkness was everything to it, except when she came.

Who was she? It didn't know. All it knew was the sound of her laugh. It was grating, like a broken man's screams, as he was dragged over jagged rocks. It had no joy, just pure malice.

Yet, it was its only company—the one beacon in the dark, the one burst of light beside the images that had recently come to haunt it. Shadowed figures talked to it like they were familiar with it, treating it like a friend, only for it to return to the world of darkness. That was true torture.

In the memories, it was happy.

Click.

At the far end of the dark room, a door opened, illuminating the long runes carved in stone. It came in a flash before the light was overpowering, and it had to turn its gaze away. The runes covered the room in its entirety, from ceiling to floor. Soon, they would glow.

Thud.

A shadow passed across its closed eyes before the light faded to nothing. It opened its eyes and embraced the darkness again. Soft footsteps approached in the darkness, only punctuated by the click of her heel.

It knew her well. Beyond the shadowed figures in its memories, she was the only person she ever saw. A hand reached out from the darkness and caressed its cheeks.

"We have another shipment arriving tonight, dear," her voice cooed as she traced a finger across its chin. "You'll need to fulfill your princely duties once again."

She laughed, loud and grating. It closed its eyes and winced away, but there was nowhere to go. With its arms and legs bound, it couldn't run away. It couldn't hide. It had to stay there and face the laugh, as it did every time the woman visited.

"I must say that draining you of everything has taken the fun out of this, even if it was my smartest play." The hand released its cheek as she walked away. "To be fair, I tried my best to keep what I could, but you just had to keep resisting. I would have given you the chance of freedom if I didn't know that you would run. A shame."

It didn't know what to say, mainly because it didn't know how to speak. All of that was lost to it, along with any memories of life outside the darkness. Only the recent few experiences in the shadows had given it a glimpse of life outside the darkness.

"Perhaps I should have left you with enough will to respond at least." Scraping on the walls across from told it that she neared the switch.

Click.

When she flipped the switch, its world went white.

It did not know if it was by chance or by design, but it was not sent to the normal white-hot pain that came with the switch's activation. Instead, it stood in darkness, looking out into a bright white light ahead. It stepped forward and found itself in a strange, ovular room.

On its left, a large screen holding an impossibly wide golden orb stretched across one side of the room. To its right were five people. Only two had shadowed faces, which had already improved previous memories.

Part of him recognized them, though he couldn't recall their names. However, one certainty filled him. He knew he was a part of their crew. He knew he was with them, even through the broken memories.

He knew who he was.

"So, what do you think, Artur?" the dark-skinned man in the central seat asked him. "That's Grim Aegis ahead of us. What are we going to do?"

Artur. The name echoed through him despite not knowing the rhyme or reason for its origin. Who was this Artur at his core? Was he a despicable villain or a righteous knight? He had a feeling that he was about to find out.

"Of my intent and path, I haven't been straight," Artur whispered. "I have only spoken to you in a way most quaint."

He paused, his memory-self assessing the response of the crew. No one interrupted him, so he stepped further into the center of the room. Behind him, the golden orb became the background for his speech.

"We met as strangers brought together by fate,

I placed on you my hopes and prayed not to be late.

We journeyed together to my very home,

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And you've shown me I will not be alone.

I was disowned by my father and sent away,

But was it shame or for protection that he swayed?

A noble, a woman, came to our abode,

That was the Hand called Miss Malone.

Some among the knights thought her trouble,

That she had plans to reduce our rein to rubble.

Little did we know that she had a plan,

To take all from our rule of the land.

But now, we go to break my father free,

Though I know not what has become of thee.

I only trust in the power of my newfound friends,

That we will smile together at the very end."

The crew around him shared looks. A few of them smiled, though the one in the center mostly looked annoyed. Artur didn't understand it, but he was only a part of it for now, a sliver of himself within a memory that would fade soon after he left it.

"All that aside, you said we should find someone first when we landed," the man said, leaning forward. "Do you remember his name?"

"The master tracker of the Hell Knights, knower of the land to the very root." Artur nodded. "The one we search for, the greatest of them all, is named Harut."

With that, the memory ended, and Artur returned to the darkness, though he came back with more than he ever had before from memory. The room around him glowed a light blue as the runes dripped power. He didn't recall what they were for, but that didn't matter.

He had a piece of himself back, which put a smile on his face.

"And that will do it, another shipment for the Core and more profit for us. Soon, we'll show the nobles the value of having shipments through a connected port. They'll have to accept us then."

"Hah." Artur couldn't help himself.

He made a small laugh that echoed through the dark room. The woman turned on him in the fading blue light. Her pale face and dark hair warped in concern. She was beautiful despite what she had done to him. At another time, in another place, he could see himself flirting with her on a veranda while servants brought out another bottle of wine.

Wasn't that what had gotten him in trouble in the first place?

"What was that?" she asked, getting closer and leaning over him. "I thought for a moment that you dared to make a noise. Perhaps I need to take some more memories from you."

Artur froze. He had just gotten them back. However, at the same time, his lip trembled. He hadn't been able to be true to himself in so long, and this was such an opportunity. The words rested on his tongue, ready to jump out like the tip of a rapier.

It was a choice.

"A word I must have, if I may." The words scraped out of his throat like rocks across bare feet. "To this life, a little delay."

"What?" she leaned closer, her brow furrowing.

"A knight presents to the world without guile," he whispered, closing his eyes as he focused on the words. "A hero needs only to smile."

His head drooped at the efforts of his words, but he didn't let the smile drop from his face. Let the woman do what she must to him. He would not apologize for his life. He would not apologize for his ways. He was a knight. Even with all his memories taken from him, he was a knight at his core.

Click.

She stepped back, and there was no bite. There was no closing web crawling across his body. Artur opened his eyes, but the darkness had returned. He could no longer see her. All he could spot in the darkness were several shimmering spots.

"You can't remember," she whispered in the dark. "I have your gem in my study, which has never moved. You shouldn't be able to speak, much less rhyme."

She paused, and her shoes clicked across the stone and to the door. She opened it, and the light burned into Artur's eyes. For a brief moment, she was silhouetted against that light, her long dress black. Long legs extended out from her back, ending in long, sharp, pointed ends, no different from a spider's legs.

Thud.

A moment later, the door closed, leaving Artur in darkness with his thoughts. He had one, albeit briefly, some time alone with his renewed self. He may not yet have been whole, but he better saw the puzzle that was his identity.

In the darkness, he smiled.

Charles ran down the roof as bones crunching echoed behind him. He had never seen anything like what the suited man was doing, but that didn't matter. This was the second time he had stuck his neck out for one of Ortega's crew, and he wasn't about to let himself get caught again.

He reached the door of the stairwell leading to the roof and ducked inside. It was only after he was relatively safe behind that door that he bothered peeking out. On the far end of the rooftop, the man Alex had fought with had grown a massive bone-white carapace around himself and was growing larger by the second. Long legs shot out from his body, and a long segmented tail shot out of his back and curved over his head.

Charles had seen creatures like it on desert islands. Scorpions were what they were called. They were all nasty creatures, and a sting from them could cause hot pain in a person's foot for days or kill them outright.

Charles leaned against the wall as the man grew, and the building beneath him groaned under the new weight. He licked his lips as he reached into his pocket for a cigarette.

"Surely he won't grow big enough to collapse the building," Charles said as he rummaged in his pockets. "No one would be that dumb."

Not only would that risk a major building in the city, but the fights happening down below would be affected. The man had several men fighting below. If he grew too big, they might be crushed.

Charles pulled out his pack and found it empty. He had smoked them all.

"Would you do it if your back was against the wall?" he asked himself, and a cold weight dropped into the pit of his stomach. "Yes, yes, you would."

Crunch. Groan. Crack.

He crushed the cigarettes in his hand. At the same time, the rafters beneath the roof groaned and cracked. Charles eyed the nearby rooftop and made his decision. He wasn't some nigh invincible man like Ortega seemed to be, and he wouldn't stick around for the fight. He also couldn't count on the building staying put long enough for him to run down the stairs. That left him with only one option.

"Go for it!"

He yelled the motivation to himself, his mustache fraying as he pushed himself up on tired feet and ran for the roof's edge. The nearest building was a story shorter, but the alley between them was barely anything. He ran to the edge but didn't stop, jumping over the edge without hesitation and throwing out his arms as he fell through the air.

Thump.

He hit the roof in a roll as the building behind him groaned, and a massive bone scorpion finished its growth on the roof. Charles rolled to a stop at the far edge of the roof with a wide open sight to the fights. All he needed to do now was stay awake.

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