After a long day of doing basic military drills, I return to the facility largely comfortable with the new AMS and all of the cool new functions. Wendigo didn't talk to me the entire time but the constant stream of information from every sensor in all directions let me know he was still there constantly feeding me relevant information. I now at this point feel as if the AMS is just the same as my true body. The new sensors are something else though. I can even feel the grass on the bottom of my feet.

Upon returning I go back to the matinence station I first saw Wendigo at and dock it to the heavy metal clamps which hold it up. I feel the large charging cable attach to my back as I begin a steady deattachment procedure at Kassandra's directions. Due to my slow and methodical actions, I am reattached with minimal agony and only grimace twice. A new record.

Once I am unattached I shimmy out of the small hole I entered through. I step onto the back of Wendigo and stretch myself letting out a long yawn. Even with Wendigo's help dealing with all the information that an AMS throws at you is incredibly tiring, especially when you haven't piloted one in nineteen years. My vision comes to full focus once more and I hop on the one-man elevator which takes me to the floor where Marshall and Kassandra stand both busy typing away on their tablets.

Without looking up Kassandra says,

"That was very productive and we got lots of information from those simple exercises. Also, I hope you got at least a little familiar with the new interface and new systems we implemented."

I nod in response and then ask,

" The AI, Wendigo, says he has some of my memories stored within him. I asked for him to directly transfer them to me and he stated that he was not allowed to do so. Why is that?"

Kassandra pauses as does Marshall who looks up slowly his eyes wide with worry. Kassandra gives no indication of emotion but I see in her eyes that she is rapidly thinking about my question. Finally, she responds,

" Well, from what we can tell the AI is nothing more than a digital version of some of your memories... From that it is theorized that giving you any of those memories even a copy of such could result in a lobotomy-like effect... but you said it talked to you? The AI should not have the ability to do something like that. Text is the only way it can communicate. Maybe you imagined it? A creation in your mind because of your prolonged attachment to an AMS system? Also please do not fraternize with the AI if this is so... Who knows how dangerous it can be."

As she ends the explanation I can't help but feel as if she wasn't telling me everything, but for now, I will leave it. I don't understand psychology and especially do not understand advanced AIs. I put this experience in the back of my mind for safekeeping but shrug and move on.

Kassandra seeing my shrug and body language showing I accepted her explanation smiles and says,

"Alright. Go and get some sleep as you leave bright and early tomorrow to start your new life at school."

I nod and ask,

" You're not coming with me?"

She shakes her head and says,

"No, sorry but we are very busy here. We will send multiple technicians and other staff to help you move in and to help with the matinence of your AMS. As for money, since you do not and will not have a job we will provide you a thousand dollars per week for all expenses. Hows that sound?"

I nod and ask,

"What's a dollar value compared to my time?"

She laughs and says,

"It's not as good as you remember, but if you are able to spend one thousand dollars a week on food and entertainment there may be more issues than the value of a dollar."

I give a small laugh in response. I guess a thousand dollars is just that. A thousand. Since this place, I'm going to sounds like a college or university that money should make me cock of the rock around the other poor college students. At least from what I was told back in the day.

As I look up to ask another question I watch as Kassandra and Marshall shoot away quickly on the central rail system. I cuss to myself and make my way to my room. Once there I find a shopping bag on my cot. I open it to find cleanly pressed clothing. The first set of clothes are clearly a uniform. I'm guessing this is the one the school requires. I keep this thought until I spy the Hussain Foundation logo and name on the breast. I guess I'll be a walking advertisement. Thankfully it is a light gray color as not to draw much attention to myself.

I set the nice uniform aside and find a tight suit made of stretchy material. I find multiple holes in the back telling me that this suit is a piloting uniform. I remove my pants, boots, and pull the black suit over my body. it fits nicely and is very comfortable. It's pretty much a morphsuit made of insulating material. The holes line up with my spinal ports. I move jump and stretch in it and it isn't restricting at all. I smile to myself and take it off. I look in the bag again and find a note. It's written by Kassandra and reads as such

Dear Mike,

In this bag is the uniform we wish for you to wear around school as much as possible. It follows the guidelines the academy has for uniforms as well as lets teachers, and students know who you are affiliated with. This should help you out socially. Underneath it is a new piloting suit for you. It offers no armor and just barely protects from heat and cold so don't do anything stupid. This isn't the military anymore.

Finally, I have to say it. I am very sorry I cannot escort you to the academy and know you will forgive me for that. Things around here are not exactly easy to run and I apologize for that. I hope you will integrate well with the body and live a somewhat normal life here and now. I know that you were robbed of these experiences by circumstance. I hope you fulfill anything your heart desires. Again thank you for your cooperation in my experiments, it means the world to me.

Sincerely, Kassandra

P.S.

Don't worry about people figuring out who you are and how you pilot. First off, you are technically dead and your name isn't exactly rare, and lastly, we have a strong presence over the academy and you don't have to worry anything about your AMS, we have that covered.

I smile. I don't know how sincere the letter is as my gut feeling tells me something about trusting people to my fullest. Yet, it still makes me happy. Even a kind lie is appreciated. I set the letter back into the bag and open my trunk. Inside is my clothes and a duffle bag. I grab the duffel bag and stuff it full with all my clothes. After that, I flop onto the bed in my underwear and try to find sleep.

I have no dreams this night. Just an instant of dark and then boom. I shoot up awoken by knocking on my door. I shout,

"I'm awake!"

The knocking stops and I hear someone walk away. I quickly get up and get dressed in the uniform provided. I rush to the bathroom where I brush and wash before packing my toiletries. I lace up my boots tightly and grab my bag. I do one last checking over before I nod to myself and walk down the hallway to the front of the building. I enter the lobby with its towering pillars and wonderful fountains. At the entrance are two men in grey suits with the foundation logo on them. They motion for me to follow which I do.

They take me to a company car and open the door to let me in. I thank them and one of them nods as I step inside. The car is nice and of a brand, I do not recognize. I lean up to the driver and ask,

"Will my AMS be transported too?"

The driver smiles and replies,

"Of course. There will be a truck leaving with us carrying it. I recommend getting comfortable. The ride is a few hours by car."

I nod leaning back and buckle up. I feel butterflies in my stomach. I am actually quite nervous about my new first day of school. Anyone would be, right? I mean I'm first off from a different time, and secondly just what kind of school requires uniforms that say an outside companies name?

Pushing aside these thoughts I look out the window at the world around me. In my time awake I haven't been able to see the outside as I was required to stay indoors at all times. I will admit I have gone a bit stir crazy and the television didn't help as I hardly understood the programming and for many shows felt awkward watching in public due to the indecency of some. I'm not a prude but still, uncensored nudity in a public place doesn't seem right to me.

Outside I watch trees pass by eventually giving away to suburban America. We pass over endless rows of homes on the highway, all same make, and almost all the same color. It looked as if we passed over cornfields by how uniform and straight every street was. I guess populations have grown since my time, or maybe less poverty allowing people to all move to suburbia?

Eventually, this too gives way to towering buildings of impressive architecture, massive towers constructed from shimmering glass, and sturdy concrete. It is simply amazing what can be made with modern technologies. Above strange flying vehicles, similar to the kind I rode to see my father buzz around just as densely as ground traffic below. I can't help but let out some impressed gasps as we pass this hive of activity. I wouldn't want to live here but just seeing it is quite impressive.

I ask the driver,

"Hey. what city is this? I don't recognize any landmarks or anything."

He smiles looking into the rearview mirror and says,

"Newstone city. It didn't exist until a few years ago and grew massively. It's the center of all of Earth's technological advancements, and of course home of the Hussain foundation."

I nod and thank him as we finish passing by the city. Thankfully the highway doesn't force us to drive through the madness that is big city traffic. After the city, there is nothing but endless plains of crops or livestock. From this, I deduce that we are in the midwest somewhere. Then in the distance, I notice something that makes my blood run cold. At the very limit of my vision, I can see a towering shape. It's not the landmark I once knew but the shape is absolutely it. Towering far higher than what should be physically possible.

It is the St.Louis arch. Yet not it. A far larger version that can be seen for miles and is designed to look like it had been scarred and damaged and even more so I can see a solid gray, and oversized, most likely a statue, Imperial titan holding up the arch. I see this and ask the driver,

"Pardon me, but what the fuck is that?"

The driver looks at the monument and explains,

"After the end of the war, all blame for the nuclear annihilation of St.Louis was placed on a single American AMS pilot. The one who murdered the solar divine emperor. I don't know if that person was full to blame for either as it was war after all, but it is claimed the emperor in his dying breaths struck down the pilot and did all that was possible the limit the damage so that the solar reactors didn't destroy more than just the city which had few to no occupants at the time. Apparently, the titan had enough power stored to destroy an entire hemisphere, so that's why they built that monument to honor his sacrifice to save the world."

I thank him my voice meek and deep in thought. I can't believe I would be vilified to such a degree. I understand I got some unfair war crime judgments, but murderer, and attempted destruction of the earth? No way. I sit for most of the ride salty and sulking thinking about how unfair this position is, but thankful that I am thought to be dead. Maybe I can live out my life fairly normally and just leave this past behind?

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

When I try and think about this further I pull up blanks. More memories are gone due to my cryostasis. I don't know what I am missing though. This upsets me greatly. How can I move on from my past if I don't even know my past? I don't know if I deserve this label as a horrible person. Do I? Do I have any real reason to be frustrated and salty that they call me a monster if in reality, I am? While questioning my own reality and sanity I come to a conclusion. I should just ask Kassandra to hire someone specialized in psychology to help uncover any form of memory they can from me. Or something. I don't know this kind of thing works. What I find most troubling is how I remember many people and feel strongly towards them, but I can't remember them as individuals. Just people... even my memories of my father which are the strongest of anyone I remember are foggy and seem to be covered in a haze that makes it impossible to truly recall him to his fullest. I resolve myself to find a way to recover my memories and bundle myself up to sleep the rest of the trip so I don't drive myself insane.

I never fully go to sleep on the drive. Just that half-sleep that sometimes happens on long car rides. Where you cant open your eyes but you remain conscious and of course one cannot forget how it leaves you more tired than when you started.

I am awoken by the driver saying,

"Ten minutes out. Be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

I acknowledge the by now very outdated saying and wake myself up and rub the sleep from my eyes. Outside the window, I can see a very nice coastal city. It takes me a bit but I eventually recognize the city as Las Angeles. Mostly due to a building with a big poster reading the name. My eye is caught by a large conical object descending from the sky elswhere in the city. I'm no genius, but I know a spaceship when I see one. This makes sense though as since the space fairing countries of humanity are now pretty much allowed on earth as much as they want. I quickly think to myself jokingly,

"Darn space folk crossing into our planet and taking our jobs!"

I exhale sharply at the thought then consider the possible truth of the statement. I'll have to ask later.

The city passes by quickly and suddenly we stop at an entry gate on the coast. The gatekeeper speaks to the driver who flashes a paper. Without another word, we are allowed through. The bridge we are on is absolutely massive. Not necessarily in width but in length. To my best estimates, the bridge is eight miles long. Just where the hell are we going? We should just be in the pacific from my memory.

I bring up my concerns to the driver who chuckles and replies,

"The academy is on a manmade island nine miles off the coast of Las Angeles. It's a pretty big island too. Pretty much a city on its own, but the real reason for the massive size is because of AMS work and training. They need as much room as possible to move freely and do what they need to do. So the actually built-up and 'campus' side of things is a small portion of the island's total area but is still quite impressive. Say what you want about Solar Imperial tech but it can seem like magic at times."

I thank him for the insight and look over the bright blue water which as we drive further out becomes darker. as the ocean goes from warm shallow seas to deep abyss. On that topic, I need to research if any new cool fishes or other oceanic creatures have been found. With the tech, we probably have now and from what I've seen there must be some awesome new stuff. Still looking over the waves in the bright sun I see boats, both motor and sail dancing on the surface leaving long white trails behind them. It's a beautiful sight. It's been over nineteen years since I've seen the ocean and photos don't do justice to the majesty of nature.

After a moment of great sights, I see the water become rapidly more shallow. I look ahead through the windshield and see the campus island ahead of me. The island is quite large as expected, from my guess about twenty square miles or more. On the right of the bridge is what I assume is the campus. Considering it's the only side with any buildings. There are tall buildings made of glass in impossible shapes, short buildings more akin to bunkers, and beautiful villa-looking buildings on the coast. Then at the far back of it is multiple large enclosed stadiums. With an extremely ornate and massive one at the center of the arenas. It's a safe bet that's where they hold the competitions. To the left of the road is what looks like wilderness but looking hard I see sparsely placed buildings made of wood and low-lying concrete buildings which are hard to make out from behind the palms. I don't understand why there Is such wilderness but again I'll probably figure it out.

The car gets off the bridge and pulls into a massive circle drive stopping behind a few extremely luxurious cars. The driver puts the car in park and turns to me smiling,

"Good luck young man. I dunno why the bosses sent ya but that's above my paygrade. Anyway good luck at school and try to leave some ladies for the rest of the guys."

He laughs at the end and I join him. I thank him profusely for driving me and shake his hand. I step out of the car onto the brick drive and before I can get to the trunk two men in dull light green uniforms already have it open and load my bag on a hovering cart which shoots away before I can even speak. Finally, I get my bearings and say,

"Hey! What's the big idea? Thats all my stuff!?"

One man blinks a few times staring at me confused and then says,

"We sent you bags to be screened for dangerous items and from there they will be sent to your room. Is there a problem with that?"

I shake my head and reply,

"No. Sorry, I just wasn't informed of that. Sorry for shouting."

He nods acceptingly and moves on. I hear the car door shut behind me and the car pulls away quickly. I cuss under my breath now lost. I step onto the curb out of the road to keep the traffic flowing and take a look around. Behind me in the grass center of the drive is a massive fountain depicting two nice-looking AMS of Solar design fighting one another in a sword duel. It's pretty darn cool how the water sprays from it like sparks flying from where they clash. I look ahead and see a massive ornate gate breaking the uniform stone brick walls with nasty-looking spikes on top. The gate is around twelve feet tall and made of very reflective steel. The sides are made of the same off-white stone the walls are made of. On the top of the gate, engraved in the stone and plated in gold it reads,

"Seacoast Island Academy of Mechanized and Technological Arts"

I kinda laugh at the name. Seacoast? One hell of a name for an island nine miles off the coast. On top of that calling what is effectively gladiatorial combat an art? That's honestly absurd. I understand the last part though. The AMS is a super complex machine. Any training to maintain, or fabricate them is pretty much an art considering the talent needed.

Shrugging off the name of the school, I see other people around my age heading through the gate down a brick pathway. The other students' uniforms are similar to mine with long sleeves and britches legs, but theirs seem far more ornate. With gold seams and other decorations. I wonder who they represent?

The path leads through overhanging trees into an open grassy field meticulously cared for. Directly ahead is a building I can only describe as a palace for a king or something. Tall towers, decorative marble covering the entire exterior, and massive stained glass windows. Its massive dark wood doors hand open wide and above them an electronic screen scrolls across,

"Welcome new students! Please enter here to begin registration!"

It seems overly enthusiastic. As I approach I realize those aren't Grecco-Roman-style statues lining the building. Instead, they are eight-foot-tall statues of AMS that I suppose has done something great? As I get close to the doors I see the name of the building inscribed above the screen,

"Lindheimr hall - Nobility classes and administration"

Inside is just as, if not nicer than the exterior. Dark red walls with intricate wood borders. Chandeliers of brass and crystal letting off a soft warm light. The floor is so polished I can see my reflection off its milky white surface. There are columns of the same marble towering high above me onto ceilings painted with murals of AMS combat, from both my war and the gladiatorial arena. I feel very out of place. There is soft chatter all around me as I walk. Groups of students and somewhat are clearly servants talking quietly as not to make a ruckus. Even though I step with a normal amount of force I feel as if my boots against the marble are making far too loud of a sound. I try to tread as softly as my metal feet will allow.

After a while, the massive, yet increasingly claustrophobic entry hall opens up into a massive main room full of both people and tables. There are staff members at tables wearing light blue uniforms. I see a line in front of a table with a sign reading,

"Start here"

I get in line and patiently wait. The line moves quickly and people in front of me and the newcomers from behind still complain about the wait. I mentally call them pansies as I remain bored but patient. Eventually, it is my turn.

The pretty blonde staff lady looks tired no doubt from the long day she's had and willc continue to have. I smile at her and say,

"Good afternoon miss how are you?"

She seems to perk up at someone actually giving a damn and replies much more chipper,

"I guess I'm doing alright, thank you. Tell me your name and affiliation."

I nod and reply,

"I am Mike Richardson, I think I am affiliated with the Hussain foundation? "

She looks at my left side and nods entering something into a datapad. She then says,

"Move down the line and you will be further registered."

I nod and head to the next table. This table has stacks of tablets and what look like smartphones. The person at the table says nothing and just thrusts them into my hands. Afterward, they grab my arm, grab my right index finger and scan it. Then they hold the scanner to my face and scan my eye. I blink from the blindness induced by the flash and move on as told.

I look down at the two devices and they turn on as soon as I make eye contact with the small cameras on top. They boot up and welcome me by name. Fancy. I'm not one hundred percent sure how they got it to recognize me so quickly but I'll ignore that and not complain.

The next and final table is long and has multiple workers along its length. They seem to be doing paperwork for the incoming students. This is probably the main registration.

I walk up to the table and am quickly helped. The overly tired worker greets me with fake cheer and asks my name and affiliation. I recite what I said earlier and they tap along their pad and say to me,

"Okay, you're registered as a combatant, and your classes will be as basic as we have... everything is already set up and you already have your personal AMS on hand. You're all good. Your room is assigned on your tablet and digital device."

I mull over the fact I get no choice in my workload but I do have one question,

"Pardon me, but when I was given these devices I got no charger with them. Are they already in my room?"

The person looks bewildered for a moment and then asks,

"uhhhhh like all modern devices they charge wirelessly from the power grid? What are you on?"

I shake my head, dismissing the conversation, hoping to not draw suspicion of my lack of modern knowledge, and quickly head towards where the other students are after this table. A big sign reading,

'Physicals'

I wait my turn in the boys' line a bit worried about my backports. They are quite visible if I take off my shirt and neuro-linking AMS are illegal. This is not good. I worry about this for a short moment of time before suddenly I am called forward.

I step through the threshold of the door and it closes behind me. I look over and see the doctor is female. She is clearly in her early to mid-thirties with bright ginger hair and rimless square glasses. Her eyes are a steel gray in color and with their steel coldness comes a sharpness that digs into me. Due to the way she is seated I can't get a read on her body type, but just looking at her exposed lower arms she is probably athletic.

She motions to the spinning stool in front of her and says harshly,

"I already know who you are Mike. I'm on foundation payroll. Sit down and Im going to get this over with. I have been hired to be your personal doctor. If you ever get hurt in any way or are sick come to me and no one else. Understood? I am Dr. Kelly. You will not refer to me any different."

I nod and give affirmation to her requests. I sit on the chair and she spins me around so I am looking away from her. She instructs me to remove my shirt and I comply. I feel her mess with my ports for a bit and then she tells me to put on my shirt and get the fuck out. I comply and am sent through an opposite door into another main hall.

This hall is decorated the same as the one before but is clearly on the opposite side of the building with huge windows overlooking the interior of campus in a small garden or quad. This hall also runs lengthwise of the building rather than bisecting it like the one I entered into. This building is absolutely massive.

I wait around till another incoming student enters the hall and they seem to know where to go so I follow from a good distance away. Eventually, I am led to another large open room. This room has a stage, it's an auditorium of some kind. I fall in with the incoming student body and keep to myself as I hear people speaking in a multitude of different languages and I don't feel like playing charades to have a conversation.

After a few minutes, the lights dim, and the stage is lit up. From side stage walkout two people. A tall woman who has some interesting scarring on her face, and an old guy who is built like he could deadlift an entire tractor-trailer. The lady walks to the center and the man stands behind her to the right. She clears her throat quieting down any remaining conversations. She begins,

"Welcome new students of Seacoast Island academy. If you are standing in this auditorium you are very lucky. We are the premier academy for wannabe AMS pilots. I know all of you are familiar with our academy but I will still explain for you harder-headed individuals. I am President of the college Liberty Turner. I am of first-generation when it came to training and leading AMS pilots. Behind me is vice-president dean Jackson Brown. Know that you know our names, I will now explain the academy for you all.

This academy is top of the line when it comes to piloting, fixing, and developing AMS and any and all new technological systems. Many of you are in the combat line of schooling here and I will have you know that is our hardest. The rest of you I wish you luck in your studies. As for the combatants, you all will be tested, mentally, physically, and if I can help it spiritually. We are number one for a reason and I will not accept anyone without the goal of keeping us there.

That's it for my speech as I hate giving them. Instead, we are fortunate this year to have an amazing guest speaker. Please welcome Solar Empress Seraphina Aelius."

I feel an odd sensation hearing that name. I can't put my finger on it.

The girl my age walks out onto the stage. Her long frame walking with graceful strides. Her long blonde hair is almost shimmering. She is wearing a uniform that seems to match made of brilliant golds and purples. Fit for a divine empress. She turns to face the crowd a beautiful smile on her face. Her eyes a brilliant blue. She begins to speak but I find myself ignoring the speech deep in thought.

My main thought is,

"What am I missing?"

I can't remember anything about her. I never met her but maybe it was something the emperor said? I have no clue. As I rake my mind for answers the crowd begins applauding as her speech finishes and we are dismissed. I remain until nearly everyone is gone thinking. Eventually, I give up and leave the building realising I have no idea where to go.

I simply turn on the tablet in my hand and it automatically says,

"Head to your room. Villa Hall room 219."

The device shows a map and I follow it. It leads me through alleys where I don't get to see the school but eventually I make it to a building that looks just like an Italian Villa. I enter to find it quite nice. I eventually find my room. It automatically lets me in upon scanning me somehow. Inside is just a bed, a desk, and a dresser. My bags are lying on the floor. I just ignore everything and flop onto the bed still lost in thought about what I cannot remember....