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"Huh?", the man's voice echoes in the darkness.

"Translation software enabled. Anda Rin," the familiar voice says.

"Oh, it's you. What happened?"

"I've tinkered your hearing augmentation so it shuts you down when you hear your name."

"Why didn't you just— "

"The name had to be transmitted via sonic waves—"

"So, you asked me to meet the detective. Now what, my soul is in purgatory?"

"Not exactly. Your neural link is connected to a secure network."

"Can you turn the lights on, at least?"

In an instant, light pours in from all sides reflecting off endless slopes of white snow, violent gusts of wind come battering in against Anda's body. His bare skin forms beads of crystalline from the blistering cold temperature.

"What now!?" Anda screams against the howling gales.

"I've rendered together ALL the data on you, from medical records to archival footage. Everything into this simulation."

"Why on top of a blithering mountain?! Couldn't you just put it on an 8mm and let me—"

"Any other medium and you'd just skip or stomp off from what's inconvenient. From up here, there's only one way you can go. It's one of your meticulous designs, sir. This isn't the first time you wiped your memory."

"Well, that's a real peach! By the time I get back to—"

"Time is irrelevant here. All this transmission of hexabytes flow like water in the rapids. Images on this mountain trigger moments without losing any time out there."

Anda simply gives up arguing and starts his descent into the misty unknowns of his past.

"Happy hunting, sir."

As Anda marches on through the harsh environment for some time, the blistering whistles of the wind overlaps playful sounds of children playing in the distance. He looks up and sees the sun radiate through the mist like a screen of frosted glass.

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//render_complete:initiate_sequence_1//

We see the reflection of a pre-schooler near the corner of a tall arching window. It's a young Anda watching children play about in the manor grounds as their innocent shrills sneak past his muffled ears.

Behind Anda is a young man scanning through the countless leather bound books that cover the walls of the room. Past the man, in the middle of the room basking in the sunlight through the window is a lady, sitting on one side of a large rosewood study. She never takes her eyes off Anda until the large double doors at the other end of the room open wide and a middle aged woman approaches the middle of the room, extending a hand to the lady having an inaudible conversation.

The young man takes notice and pulls a book out. He crouches next to Anda and shows him the book. Anda holds the book carefully, inspecting the words and the man uncovers Anda's ears allowing some notes of a symphony to seep out. The man looks at Anda with a glint in his eyes and waits for the boy's eyes to meet his. Anda looks up at the young man with inquisitive eyes.

"Hey pal, you doing alright?" said the young man with a gentle voice.

"I'm alright, dad. Thanks. You alright?"

"I'm great, thank you. Hey, your mom and I are gonna talk to that lady Doctor for a bit, you wanna join in?"

"Sure. What's 'Hamlet'?"

"Well, what Hamlet is, is a small village with a few people. Now, WHO Hamlet is…", the young man spoke, containing his excitement before being the lady approaching them interrupts.

"Hey guys, is that Hamlet? Oh, boy. You and your pops are gonna have a field day with that one. Before that, how bout we have a little chat with the lady Doctor over there first?", the young lady says with a mellifluous voice.

"Otay," both the young man and Anda say in unison as all three of them make their way to the middle of the room.

As little Anda sinks in his chair slightly behind his parent, his nose is deep in the book his father passed him a few moments ago. The off-white pages begin to form waves like dunes of snow. We are transported back to the adult Anda who is still trudging through the snow, one step at a time.

"My parents loved me, huh?"

"Unconditionally, sir."

The sounds of his footsteps crushing the snow beneath it start sounding like fingers rubbing against old pulp paper and we see the world from young Anda's eyes again.

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//render_complete:initiate_sequence_2//

The three adults in the room begin their discussion as Little Anda has his nose deep into the first chapter of Hamlet.

"Mister and Missus Anda, little Rin here is born with an exceptional ability. The hyperconnectivity between his senses, especially his audio-visual sensory organs are the medical grounds where augmentations are designed after. The applications of augmentations on correcting permanent loss of sight and hearing can be engineered to—" said the doctor before Mr Anda stops her short.

" 'Reversing', Doctor Mase. Not 'correcting'. We believe that people are put together the way they are for a reason," Mr Anda says coolly, maintaining a non-hostile approach in discussing their son's situation.

"I fully respect both your positions on being Aug-free and how the three of you would remain to stay as the very few fully organic humans left. But to fully integrate Rin into our establishment—," the doctor is cut short again, this time by Mrs Anda with a bit more fire in her voice.

" 'Integrate'? I get it. This is a segue to get our little boy augmented, so he can 'integrate' into your high and mighty — ," Mrs Anda stops as a cool touch on her hand from Mr Anda composes her.

"Look Doctor Mase, let my husband come out of retirement and return as your faculty member. With your facilities and his knowledge in cognitive behaviour through arts, Rin won't be an obstruction on your establishment," Mrs Anda says, pleadingly at the edge of her seat, almost ready to beg.

"Mister and Missus Anda, that is a considerable proposition. Both of you as artists in your own right are highly-esteemed and widely respected among our educational board. But you have to understand and I will put it bluntly we are a Pro-aug establishment. The fact that none of our faculty staff can decipher Rin's projections suggest that it may not be synesthesia that is affecting his 'expressions'." The doctor says regrettably as she sees Mrs Anda looking like she's about to explode until Mr. Anda diffuses the situation. 

"Doctor, I've had my fair share of the pantry-debates with the mentioned board members and read through all the papers produced by this institution. Synesthesia is NOT a condition and is the very least that needs any concerns with augmentations." Mister Anda says more sternly now.

"We're here so you can hear us out, Jo. We've sent you the observations we made when I played entire pieces on the piano and had our boy draw his reactions upon hearing them. His projections are a reflection of his imagination and it is something extraordinary. We need your facilities and my husband's expertise to develop his abilities, to master his senses." Mrs Anda says with the passion of maternal instincts in every word.

"I hear both of you and personally I'm impressed with Rin. But my decision cannot be based on our friendship. We are at the brink of making augmentations available for everyone and Rin is the antithesis of what we are so close to accomplishing," the doctor says as she looks with considerate eyes at the three sitting across her before carrying on:

"Look, believe me when I say this: I love Rin. I love the both of you. Rin is already way ahead of the curb with his amazing gift and if you both objectively open your hearts to augmentations, he could very well lead the way to a bright future."

"You can't snap out of it can you? So bent on having our son be YOUR poster child for the 'future' —" Mrs Anda at the brink of losing stops mid -sentence as Mr Anda's calm words interject.

"Honey. Let's maintain diplomacy here. Okay, hypothetically speaking: we ALL get augmentations and poof, technological Bioengineering advances human evolution to the wildest imaginations defeating mortal limitations. Soon, we don't care about global warming, famine or maybe a genius with brain amplification engineers a solution to undo the centuries of damage done to our planet so the 'human' race can—" the now agitated lady sitting across them talks over Mr Anda.

"Honestly speaking, between us friends; you're romantics prophesying a decadent future where augmentations will steal humanity of its tactile nature. I've known you two well enough to realize your stand on things, but I won't stand idly while you use your son as a 'segue' to lay your anti-Aug sentiments on—"

"I BEG YOUR—"

"EXCUSE ME —"

Both parents are absolutely livid at this point until a soft breeze comes from behind them followed by the muffled clap of a closed book and Little Anda's voice.

"'Ghosts'. I see them too. But they don't mean any harm," Little Anda says as he rests the book on his lap.

Doors slam shut one after the other until the Andas are in the back seat of their car.

"Y'all wanna get some cake?" Mrs Anda asks.

"Yes, please. Can daddy pretend to be surprised when he sees the cake ?", little Anda asks

"I'll put on a performance that even your mother will be jealous of. Say buddy, you were tryna get us out of there with the 'ghost' thing right? " Mr Anda asks the young boy.

"All of you were using big words to let me stay in there, right?", Anda swiftly answers as he opens up the book again.

"Touché, my boy," Mr Anda acknowledges, smiling as he notices the book little Anda was holding.

"Mister Fathi, let's drop by the bakers to pick up a cake on the way home," Mrs Anda says to the robust man behind the wheel.

"Most certainly, ma'am," Mr Fathi says in his thick Algerian accent.

They drive off leaving the huge estate behind and as promised, Mr Anda was exuberantly surprised by the cake and as all three of them blow the candles out. Pure darkness.

Then comes an explosion of snow and light as Adult Anda picks himself up from falling face down below the peak of the mountain. Half submerged in snow, he lays his head on the snow wondering about his parents.

"Do I get to know how long ago that memory was from? " Anda asks his invisible companion.

"That was in 2051, 171 years ago."

"So it's 2222 now?"

"2222 A.D. 155 D.E.M. 1650 Hijrah."

"D.E.M?"

"Deus Ex Machina, sir."

Anda picks himself up sluggishly and stands on the edge of a ridge. He notices the distance he's covered from the peak.

"Looks like we're just about a quarter done."

"Correct, sir."

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