Wait, what? Where am I? Some church I've never been to. Nice stained-glass windows though, 8/10. Rough wooden pews, and a heavy Bible in my lap. Oh, Gospel of John, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Cool, thanks big J. Man, this is weird. It feels like my brain is about to be buried in cotton balls. Think clearly, me! Now get up and look around.

"Is everything all right, young master?"

"Woah! Oh, hey George, yeah, I'm fine." Wait, how did I know his name? The guy in a fancy tux-like outfit gives me a blank stare. There wasn't any inflection in his voice either. Kinda creepy.

Then I felt an incredible pressure on my mind, like someone was pressing down on my very thoughts. Who the crap are you? Ugh, I won't be able to take this. In desperation, I grab that "cotton ball" feeling and throw it over my mind like a blanket. I let it seep into the front of my mind, let my face go slack, and section off my "me" thoughts into a small ball surrounded by cotton balls. I'll call this stuff the "grey" from now on, 'cause it is pretty blah. Ignore me, brain-terrorist! Grey, grey, grey, nothing to see here.

The oppressive presence fades away, but now I felt it, I can tell there is a tiny thread still monitoring me. I try to surround that thread with grey, then look around. George is passively waiting, still a blank stare on his face. Now that I look at him, he's pretty young, isn't he? Maybe thirteen? I set the Bible aside and slide off the pew to stand on the floor. Wow, George is pretty tall for a thirteen-year-old. Actually, these pews are built for giants. Wait a sec. I look down at myself and pat my body down.

"Hey, George. How old am I?"

"Young master, you are ten years old as of last summer."

Cool, thanks. A greyed-out tuxedo dude is surprisingly easy to deal with.

"And, what's my name?"

"You are Bobrick Norte, son of Methuselah Norte, Lord of the Norte province."

Wait, that sounds like I'm rich. Nice. Yeah, okay big J. I won't get greedy and selfish. Maybe. Okay, really!

Wait, now it's starting to come back to me. Papa Meth was some kinda big-shot miltary guy, right? Heheh, meth. With a name like that he must have a pretty... HIGH position. Badum-tss. Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week. Mom is a younger woman named Sarah. Way to go, daddy-o! Man, this is like wading through grey sludge. Oh, and I have a little sister named... Janitia? I'll call her Tia. And Georgie here is my personal butler. I promise I won't abuse my power, big J. No, really! I'll be totally responsible!

"Okay, George. I'm getting hungry, think we can go get a snack somewhere? Wait a second, strike that. Do I usually act like this, George?"

"No, sir. You are acting in a peculiar fashion."

"You mean I was a blank-faced, blah, grey-zombie thing?"

"I have no idea what you mean, young master."

"Okay, what do you think will happen to me if people see me with an actual personality?"

"They will report you to the king's watchers."

"Because that doesn't sound ominous at all. What happens then?"

"I do not know, young master. I've only seen peasants returned with their peculiarities removed."

"Okay, first, peasants? Like medieval pseudo-slaves? Yeah, I ain't down with that. Put that on the list of things to fix. Viva la revolution. Second, 'peculiarities' removed? Creepy a-f, yo."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

I leaned against the pew to think for a few minutes. Okay. Gotta go incognito. The world isn't ready for the real me. I looked around at the church. Empty, except I think I heard somebody moving around in the back room. Good enough.

"George, we are going to practice. I want you to tell me anything that sticks out as weird."

I practice with George for a good half-hour. It got pretty easy when I learned to "channel the grey," like I was wearing a grey-mask. I think I can at least get through dinner. I'm ten, I need to eat well to grow strong!

"Right! George, you think I'm good to go?"

"Yes, young master. No one else will report you."

"Thanks, zombo-George. Wait... no-one ELSE will report me?"

Nonono, my dear, beloved George won't narc on me, right, buddy-ol-pal?

"I will report you, young master."

Give me back my feelings!

"Hey, that is no bueno, mi compadre. Now, I'm your 'young master,' right? So that means you have to do what I say, right?"

"Yes, young master."

"So I order you to not report me."

"Yes, young master."

"Alright... So, are you going to report me?"

"Yes, young master."

Hrghlgmmph! I'm tryin' not to cuss here, big J! But c'mon! Right, right, patience and love, all over the place. Got it.

"George. Dearest George. I ordered you NOT to report me. Why are you going to report me?"

"It is an order from the king. He ranks higher than you."

He ranks higher than me? Who does he think he is! Okay, sorry big J. Ego check. Lemme think. Hmm... Let's look at that brain-thread thing Oppresso the Terrible has on me. Can I... can I do that?

"George, stand here."

I climb up to stand on the pew so I can face George. I haven't gone through my growth-spurt yet, okay?

"Okay, George. I'm going to try to brain-link with you. You down with that?"

"I have no idea what you mean, young master."

"Say, 'yes, young master.'"

"Yes, young master."

"Sweet."

I put my hands on the sides of George's head and look into his eyes. Blue with yellow specks. Not bad for a dude. Focus! I try to feel his mind. I focus on the way Oppresso drop-kicked my brain, then, gently as I can, I push on George's mind. Strange. I think I actually do feel something. Its that grey, cotton ball feeling I woke up from. I try to push the stuff away from George's mind. Gently, me! I don't need a vegeta-butler! Surround that narc-thread! Whew. Now push some of it into a grey-mask he can use for leet spy lifestyles of the rich and fabulous. Okay, done! Lets meet mind-functioning George.

"...hey, you okay, George?"

"Yes, young master."

Come on! I promise I didn't imagine my awesome brain-fu!

"So... you can think clearly now?"

"Yes, young master. I can think clearly now."

"Then why are you still acting like zombie-George."

"I think it is funny, young master."

The corner of his mouth twitched. He got me! Dangit, beaten by a thirteen-year-old! I squint my eyes at you in frustration. Fear my squint!

"Just to make sure, you aren't going to report me, right George?"

"Probably not, young master."

Graphnshmfl. Breathe. Super calm and loving. This is good. Personality is good. We can do this.

"Right, lets see if we can get through dinner, then we can make some plans."

"Young master, after dinner, your parents and a representative from the Academy of the Goddess's Sacred Light will speak with you about preparing for enrollment when you are fifteen."

AcaGSL? That sounds familiar. In the Kingdom of Tourna? I remember that from before. It's the last thing I remember before I woke up as a baby, then got hit by grey oppresso-cotton. Darn you Oppresso! But before that I was... playing a game? I played it for the strategy and action-RPG elements, but it was framed as one of those weird dating-sims for girls with a cringy name. An otome game! I used a walkthrough for the relationship parts. It was called... "Battle For Your Heart: Love, Fight On!" or something terrible like that, but... I don't remember any "Bob" character. So I'm just a background character? A "mob"? I'm a mob in an otome game?