The feeling was fleeting, sharp—a sudden and terrifying void where his past should have been. A beautiful face he once loved… now mere grains of sand slipping through Clark's fingers. All that remained for him now was his name: Clark. This forgetting was incredibly potent. Clark felt an intense headache in every pore of his head. He began to see his surroundings. He was wearing rusty metal armor. When he looked ahead, he saw a strange man. He was calm, holding a nearly empty bottle of liquor. This man had lit a fire and was sitting beside it. Next to him was a rotting, dead corpse. The stench of blood was piercing, revolting to Clark's senses. Clark was tense, his hand on the sword beside him. He didn't understand why, but it was the survival instinct within him. The man looked at Clark. His voice was unsettlingly calm. • "Don't trouble yourself reaching for that sword. I didn't kill him, I found him like this with an empty bottle." Clark ignored the dizziness and sat beside the man, his hand still on the hilt. Clark's voice sounded as if his vocal cords were frayed from hunger. • "Who are you? What is this place?" • "My name is Jin. I woke up in a field of corpses. You were the only breathing thing. So I dragged you here." I was hoping you had answers. About me. About any of this" Clark's expression froze. He hadn't comprehended that he had amnesia. "What do you mean 'about you'?" Jin replied with a helpless smile. "I don't know. I've lost… everything. All that's left for me is instinct. The need to survive. That's all."
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