Charlie opened his eyes and found himself on the ground. He tried to remember when that happened, but for the life of him, he could not remember. He'd been so focused on his Memorandum that he hadn't noticed when he had fallen over. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember being able to feel his body at all. Weird. He tried rising to his feet but found that when he did, he started tipping over again. A bit belatedly, he realized he felt nauseous and woozy, almost like he hadn't eaten in days. In fact, now that he was paying attention, he was hungry. More than hungry, he was ravenous. He'd need to get something to eat, and soon at that. Whatever, it was an issue for later.

For now, Charlie had to get up and find some materials. Mainly metal, steel, if possible, and some kind of insulator. He'd try and find some type of rubber for that. And ceramics, too. He had so much work to do. As quickly as he could bring himself to move, he placed his right hand on the edge of the bowl to wrench himself up. Only, when he placed his hand on the rim, he felt his hand brush something wet. And warm. He brought his hand back down and took a look at his fingers, the tips of which were now red. That explained a lot. He brushed his hand off on his shirt and looked at where he had pricked himself on the needle. "How the fuck..." he whispered to himself. He should not have been able to lose that much blood from the tiny prick on his finger.

Using the edge of the altar this time, Charlie pulled himself up and glanced into the bowl. Sure enough, there was a metric ass-load of blood in the bowl. Charlie was no professional, but he felt that it could not have been a safe amount of blood to lose. He was not sure how he had lost it all from his finger. He was, however, sure that he really needed to get something to eat. And soon. Just before he turned away on a quest to find munchies, he noticed something peculiar. The blood seemed to be draining away. An action that made no sense, seeing as he hadn't seen a drain in the bowl. Seeing as it made no sense, and Charlie had always been the type to desire answers, he continued to watch the bowl drain. Slowly, it became apparent that the bowl wasn't, in fact, draining, but rather condensing. He continued to watch, brows furrowed, transfixed, as the blood condensed into a perfectly spherical, perfectly red stone. Sitting in the middle of the bowl, it appeared to pulse; nay, it did not appear to pulse, it did pulse, as it dragged his attention inward toward a gray light emanating from within. Slowly, he reached down and picked up the stone.

The stone, Charlie found, was perfectly smooth and warm to the touch. There was no grain to be felt upon it, and it had a sheen like oil. It continued to pulse unpleasantly. He realized that he could feel a connection between something inside him, his soul most likely, and this stone. By focusing on the stone, he felt he could see his Memorandum whenever he needed. He also felt that it was the heart of his power; he could not do anything without it. This, he decided, was not something that he enjoyed. "Stupid fucking space magic taking my blood n making rocks n shit," he grumbled to himself.

Charlie felt fucking robbed. That was his blood it took, after all. Briefly, he considered swallowing the damned blood rock just to get his blood back, but he realized that that probably wasn't a good idea. Not only was it basically cannibalism, which was not something he would partake in, but the idea just made him feel uncomfortable. The stone, after all, was to be protected. Immediately, Charlie swore. "Fucking blood rock tryna control my mind n tell me what to do. Bullshit." He did not like this at all. Whatever. He pocketed the stone and continued towards the doorway.

Outside, Charlie noted that the sky was a lot darker than it had been before he had gone in. Just how long had he been passed out? Not important. He turned his head towards the sun. If he remembered correctly, the sun was always in the north, right? He'd always been quite bad with directions, but he could remember that much, at least. Yeah, he'd follow the sun. If he just continued north, he'd have to find something eventually. Besides, there was no way this whole city was empty. There had to be somebody somewhere. And when he found that somebody, he'd find a way to get some food. And once he found some food, he'd find a way to make a robot. It was all coming together. He congratulated himself on his flawless planning. And so, he began walking north.

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As Charlie walked, he began idly thinking about his blueprint for that first robot he was going to make. The Zeta-class Wonder sounded especially grand, and so his blueprints for it would be grand. First, It would be man-shaped. If this were to be his first partner, it would have to be approachable. But it would also have to strike awe. Six and a half feet tall, he decided. It would be buff where it counted and slim where it was needed. It would have glowing blue eyes behind a black visor, with the ability to change its colors at will. No mouth; he didn't want any uncanny valley-type bullshit. It would be white-no, it would be gray. White was too difficult to keep clean. It would have 4 fingers, with ports in its palms so it could connect with other devices. For that matter, it would also have ports on its head, back, elbows, and knees. Those felt like safe locations. Its head would have antennae for sending and receiving information, but not thin, weak antennae. They'd be thick and strong. He didn't want them breaking off during combat. Its forearms would have built-in bracers for protection, as well as built-in flashlights. Its legs would also be armored, more so than the rest of it, to ensure it would never be crippled. Its shoulders would be large and wide, allowing it to lay an intimidating presence; and hidden within would be the best part yet: shoulder cannons. Preferably laser cannons. He would see what he could do; he was working with magic after all. Oh yeah. These were some nice plans. Now he just had to start thinking about how it would all work. It would, of course, have to have an absurd number of-

"Wh-what the he-hell?" Charlie gasped as he felt a rush like ice plow through his head. He felt like his mind was expanding, like he'd taken a reeaal big hit of the good shit. Similarly, he felt something within his chest start to burn, as if it had just finished a nice workout and was taking a breather before the next big push. There was no way, right? He thought he might have an idea as to what just happened, but just to make sure, Charlie reached into his pocket and grabbed the blood-stone thing. It burned in his hand, smoking slightly. The gray light within seemed to be calling, almost begging for his attention. He brought it up to his eyes and stared into it. He felt his mind fall away once more.

REMEMBRANCES

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TOKENS

1

Just like that, Charlie had found a Remembrance. He returned to his body quickly, in a fluster. You mean to tell me, he thought, that just by doing what I love, I can find these things? Charlie felt like he'd just found the holy grail. Celebrating to himself, he patted himself on the back and stuck the stone back into his pocket. He continued walking in the direction that definitely wasn't north, thinking about all the things he would do. As he walked, he looked up at the now violet sky and noted the very large, pink moon above. There were so many stars, none of which he recognized. It truly had been an incredible day. Just this morning, it had been another bullshit day in his shitbag life. And now, he was achieving his dreams in a place far, far away from home. A new home, he supposed. Just what was coming next for him? Hopefully, food, actually. His stomach was killing him. His head was, too, now that he thought about it. He was feeling a bit dizzy, but he wouldn't let that stop him, no sir. He'd be fine, just like he'd always been. In fact, he'd argue that he'd never been better than he was right now on this weird, alien, spinning planet. Yup. He was great. And falling. Shit, Charlie thought, as he fell face-first into the dirt.