Frank gasped as he stepped fully into the memory. It was like passing through a freezer that could reach to your bones. He could feel Patrick shiver beside him. As he shook off the chill that had washed through him, Frank realized they no longer stood in darkness.

They were in a room that Frank recognized as one belonging to a high ranking official. The walls around them were white with the crest of the Force engraved in grey in the middle of every wall of the room. There was a long table that was full of plates piled with food, but empty of anyone to actually eat it. At the end of the table, a few feet away, sat a smaller square table. The square table was much lower to the ground and the plates on it had significantly smaller portions of food upon them. Two chairs were pulled up to this table but their occupants were shrouded by shadow.

"What's that?" Frank asked as he stepped closer to the smaller table.

"Part of the blocked memory." Patrick stepped beside him, never releasing his hand. "It's usually not the full memory that's disrupted. Like how the table and the room are fairly detailed. Your focus must have been here, and then something caused you to black it out."

Frank looked at what covered the smaller table. Simple rations. Utensils. Short cups filled with a sip of liquid each. Crumpled napkins with scribbled pen marks barely visible at his current angle. "I feel like I should remember this..." He squinted at the scene. There was a familiarity to it...

"Try reaching out to it." Patrick encouraged, "It is your memory."

Frank extended his free hand. He originally started to move it towards the items on the table, but he stopped himself. That stuff was clear and visible. He felt like his arm was instead being drawn towards one of the shadows sitting at the table. So, instead of continuing to the table, he swiped his arm to the right, cutting through the shadow. His arm created a gap in the shadow that hung for a brief moment. As Frank held his arm in the air behind the cut shadow, the darkness began to drift towards it. The shadow began to swirl through the air around Frank's arm as it pulled away from the seat. The more shadow that pulled away, the more it revealed a boy sitting frozen at the table.

Without warning, the shadow shot into Frank's arm. He gasped as all it soaked into his skin, vanishing within seconds. He brought his arm up to his chest, curling his fist as he did so. It felt like his arm had fallen asleep as a tingling spread from where the shadow had sunk in.

"What was that?" Frank opened his clenched fist slowly, hoping to push away the sensation from his hand at least.

Patrick pointed to the unveiled figure. "I think it's you."

Frank looked in the direction Patrick pointed, surprised to find that he was right. A younger version of Frank sat perfectly still in the chair. His arms rested on his lap while his eyes looked blankly ahead, towards the other mass of shadow.

"How'd I do that?" Frank straightened his arm in front of him. Despite absorbing the shadow, nothing appeared changed at the surface level. There was still a tingling underneath his skin, but his outer skin was still the same it had always been.

"You have the power here, Frank." Patrick turned to look at him as he spoke. "As long as you choose to, you can unveil what's hidden. I'm just here to guide you and to make sure you don't get lost in it." He squeezed Frank's hand.

Frank nodded. "Okay... Okay." He stepped towards the other shadow across the table, causing Patrick to step back. He extended his arms and slipped it through the shadow again, getting the same result of the first one. The shadow cut before swirling towards Frank's arm and shooting into it. He pulled it back again as the tingling intensified in his arm. The second figure began to be revealed through the shadow. It was another younger figure with dark hair that Frank immediately recognized.

"Jamia?" Frank looked back and forth between the younger version of himself and Jamia. They had been forced into dinners with some of the high ranking officials since they could hold a spoon. Why would this dinner be hidden?

As he thought about it, the two children came to life in front of him. They grabbed their silverware and began to stab into the rations on their plate. They both looked down, being as quiet as possible. Occasionally, Jamia would steal glances toward the longer, unoccupied table.

"Do you think they're ever going to eat?" She asked, her voice high pitched, but hushed to a whisper.

"We're not supposed to talk." Frank whispered, looking towards the table fearfully. "We could get in trouble."

Jamia frowned at him. "They're not even here." She pursed her lips before scooting her chair back from the table. It squeaked loudly, making both children's eyes grow wide. They sat perfectly still, just staring at each other. Frank was the first to move, slowly shaking his head. Jamia began to slowly rise from her seat, maintaining eye contact with Frank.

"Jam!" Frank squeaked as she turned and stepped towards the longer table. He watched her with wide eyes as she slowly crept closer to the table.

Despite only watching the scene, Frank could feel the anxiety of his younger self bubbling in his stomach. He tightened his grip on Patrick's hand as he felt his breathing accelerate.

Jamia had made it to the table. She looked from side to side before rushing to one of the taller chairs and climbing onto it. She grabbed something off of the plate in front of the chair and quickly hopped back down to the ground. She rushed back to her small seat across from Frank, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Jam..." Frank looked towards the table fearfully. He turned back to her as she shushed him. Her hand was extended to him, holding half of a squished pastry.

"Just eat it quick." She whispered, offering a small smile.

Frank gulped. He took one more fearful look towards the table before turning back to Jamia and swiping the treat from her hand. They ate quickly and quietly, constantly shooting looks towards the table. When they finished, they both just stared down at their plates.

"Thank you." Frank had his arms back on his lap, rubbing his hands together.

"My mom made them." Jamia replied.

Frank finally looked up at her. She smiled at him. "She's going to teach me how to make them too."

"You know your mom?" Frank asked.

Jamia nodded. "Of course. She's my mom. Don't you know yours?"

Frank shook his head. "I'm not supposed to talk about her."

Jamia looked confused. "But she's your mom."

"She was my mom." Frank replied, looking down again. Tears wielded in his eyes as he sniffled. He frowned as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Frank..." He could hear her chair move again before her arms were wrapped around him. His lip trembled as he held onto her arm.

"I don't know why I'm crying." He hiccuped as she hugged him tighter.

"Because you're sad." Jamia whispered. She pulled away and tilted her head at him. She reached out to push some tears off his cheek. "It's okay to be sad sometimes."

Frank sniffled again. "Do you cry when you're sad?"

Jamia nodded. "Dad says I cry too much, but mom says it's okay sometimes." She tapped his head. "You're allowed to cry."

"Even without a mom to say it's okay?" Frank questioned.

"Yea, cuz I say it's okay." She smiled at him.

A noise just outside of the room made her smile drop and Frank stiffen. She rushed back to her seat and Frank hastily tried to wipe the evidence of tears away from his face. They both turned back to their plates just before figures began to fill the room. They kept their heads down as the bigger table filled up and adult conversation filled the air.

"Frank."

Both Frank and the younger version of himself flinched at the voice that called out to him.

"Yes, Force Captain?" The younger Frank responded, sitting straight and keeping his eyes straight forward.

A hand placed itself on Frank's shoulder. "You seem upset. Can we excuse ourselves for a moment?"

"Yes, sir." He nodded. He turned to Jamia. "Please, excuse me."

Jamia had a fearful look in her eye as she nodded to him. Frank stood and the scene began to darken around them.

Another wave of cold washed over Frank as they found themselves back in front of the filmstrip of memories. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he stared ahead at the square they had entered however long ago. The darkness around it was now gone. The crack had vanished to fully reveal Jamia's fearful expression in the still image.

"Who was the Force Captain?" Patrick asked, looking at Frank with a frown. He looked like he wanted to reach out, but held himself back.

"The same mist from before." Frank sniffed, bringing his hand up to wipe some of his tears away. "We should find something important."

Patrick nodded, though he still wore a somber expression.

Frank turned away from the memory they had just explored. He could remember where that memory lead. He didn't want to dwell on it. He almost didn't want to remember it.

His free arm tingled as they moved down the row of memories. Many of the squares had different degrees of darkness obscuring the pictures, but one made Frank and Patrick stop in their tracks.

"There's practically nothing there..." Patrick whispered as Frank took a step towards an entirely blacked out square. He could feel something within him pulling him forward. He reached out without truly willing it, sinking his fingers into the memory.

Unlike the previous memory, Frank felt something interlock with his fingers and yank him completely into the darkness. Patrick cried out behind him, barely keeping a grip on Frank's hand as they were covered by a deep chill that cast them into darkness.

Frank gasped. He felt like he was floating. There was nothing around him, except for Patrick who somehow managed to keep grip on his hand. When he looked for him, however, he couldn't see him. He wanted to yell for him, but a voice in the darkness stopped him. A soft voice that sang out to him.

"The darkness inside you can make you feel so small..." The voice was feminine and unlike anything Frank had ever heard before. He could feel tears in his eyes once again, but they felt different from before as the voice continued to sing out to him. "Show me a smile then, little one..."

Frank extended his arm into the darkness. He could feel the tingling as the shadow began to absorb into his arm. He clenched his fist as the scene around them slowly started to become visible through the fog of darkness. He could see someone standing with their back to him. It was someone tall, wearing a dress made of different colors. Their hair was long and dark, falling past the small of their back.

Frank had to pull his arm against his chest, gasping as the tingling began to feel more like needles stabbing into him. He could still see the picture, but there was also a fog coating it. He blinked, letting more tears fall down his cheeks as the figure in the dress turned, revealing their side profile and something crying in their arms.

"You with the sad eyes, don't be discouraged..." They sang, rocking their arms as they slowly spun to fully reveal themself to Frank through the fog.

"Mom..." Frank reached out again, despite the pain in his arm. More of the shadow absorbed into his skin, further clearing the scene.

They were surrounded by leaves. Leaves of greens and blues and purples that waved with a faint breeze to reveal a darkening sky behind them. There was a small bed of moss near her feet as she continued to move and rock the baby in her arms. There was an ever present smile on her face as she looked down at the baby and sang softly.

There was a loud noise that made Frank tense as he watched his mother halt her movement.

"Don't be afraid." She looked down at the baby as she said it, though Frank could see fear in her expression. She adjusted the bundle in her arms to free one of her hands. She reached out with it, holding her palm open against the air. Frank watched with awe as faint trails of colors spread from her hand to make a barrier. "You won't hurt him."

"Now, my dear, you're wrong once again."

"No!" Frank spun around, but he was met by darkness. He held his arm out to absorb it, but nothing happened. "No!"

"You should have never shared so much with me if you ever expected him to live."

"I loved you." She sounded desperate. Frank spun back around to look at her. The heartbreak was apparent on her face. "I thought you would love what we created together."

There was a tisk from the darkness that Frank couldn't absorb. "Maybe before."

She stepped back. The rainbow of color around her seemed to waver as she did. "It doesn't have to be this way." She adjusted the position of her hand, only to recall it in pain.

"Did you forget what you shared with me?" The darkness laughed, "My dear, it really doesn't have to be this way."

She held the bundle in her arms tightly. The rainbow of color moved closer to her. It moved around her completely, shimmering in the fading light. "I wanted you to know the beauty of our world." Frank could see her fighting tears as they fell freely from his own eyes. "You had the power to call it all off."

"Calling it off is not what the Force Commander ordered." A white mist stepped into the scene. The same white mist had encountered in the room of Frank's past memory. The same white mist he knew wasn't a mist at all. "I may have felt a connection to you, but my orders will always come first."

The mist moved closer, reaching through the shield of color with ease to grab the woman by her throat. "The rest will be coming. With the rest of your magic running through my veins, we will strip this planet like the rest."

Frank screamed as a burning white filled the scene. When it faded, his mother was gone. In her place stood the mist, holding a bundle in it's arms.

A rage burned inside of Frank as he stared at the mist. He could feel Patrick squeezing his hand, but he somehow pulled his hand away from his grip to rush forward. He punched into the mist, earning the same separation reaction as the darkness in the previous memory. When this one came into contact with his skin, however, it burned hotter than anything he had ever felt before. He screamed out in pain, falling to his knees as a figure emerged from the mist.

The Force Leader stood above him, holding the infant with a look of frustration. "So you've already absorbed her power... No matter." A grin spread across his face. "We'll have use for you yet, son."

Frank cried out again, looking down at his arm. White lines were rapidly spreading up his skin. He doubled over as the burning sensation spread. The rage inside of him boiled with a different heat, rising up through his chest. He started to scream again but, instead of noise, black smoke poured out of his mouth and began to encircle him.

More tears spilled from his eyes as the darkness encased him. His chest tightened as the heats met together, only burning hotter within him. He wanted to scream, but the smoke made it so no sound would come out.

—-
Gerard

It had been quiet for some time. Aside from occasional face twitches from Patrick, the two didn't really move. Gerard found himself lost in his own thoughts when Patrick crying out pulled him back to reality.

Patrick was pushed back against the wall, holding his head as his expression contorted in pain. "He let go!" He started to adjust himself to get up, but cried out in pain. Both of his hands shot up to his head as his eyes stayed tightly clasped shut.

Gerard turned to Frank. His head no longer hung low, his face was now facing the ceiling as particles of black swirled around him. His hands were balled into tight fists and tears streamed down his cheeks.

Gerard rushed to him, willing his magic to coat his eyes and hands. He jumped onto the moss bed just in front of Frank. "Frank, can you hear me?" He reached out, placing his hands on both of Frank's tear stained cheeks. "Frank, We're here!" His vision turned magenta as his hands began to glow. He could feel a buzzing where his skin touched Frank's.

"Let him hear me." He spoke through gritted teeth as he heard Pete run into the room to aid Patrick. He could feel another force wrap around his hands, though he couldn't see it through the dark magenta that coated his vision. "Frank!"

Frank's head snapped down. His eyes were encased in darkness as his lips trembled. He brought one of his hands up to hold against Gerard's. More tears spilled as the darkness covering his eyes began to slowly shrink. They shrunk down just enough to look natural, minus the fact that they now obscured Frank's actual eye color with black.

"Gerard?" Frank's voice cracked as he locked eyes with Gerard.

Gerard didn't reply, he instead pulled Frank into a tight hug. Frank held him tightly back, beginning to audibly sob.