Your name is Mituna Captor. You are nine sweeps old, and you love skateboarding. Your favorite colors are the primary ones, and you like the number two. Basic information. Everybody knows this about you.
What they don’t know is that you aren’t useless. Sure, you’re words come out a little jumbled sometimes, and you aren’t the most coordinated of trolls, but you can still help! Like just yesterday, you helped Latula fix her skateboard. But no one notices little things like that anymore. Before you fried your circuits, you helped out all the time, and everyone thought you were pretty useful. But now that you can’t communicate like they do, they don’t think you’re so useful anymore. Not even ‘Tula. She tries to hide it, you can tell, but it’s also pretty obvious she’s doesn’t think you’re the same. But you are! You still love video games, and learning new tricks on your skateboard, and hanging out with Kurloz. You’re still hopeless flushed for Latula, and you think Cronus is a pretty okay guy, when he isn’t invading your personal space. But you can’t say it. At least not like the others do. And that apparently makes a world of difference to the others. The thought stings a little.
But there’s something else that hurts worse. And that’s currently the pounding in your head. It feels like a bark beast is chewing on your think pan. Why? You’re trying to work your psionics again. You know that they don’t work, not since you fried your circuits. But something keeps telling you to try them again, and again, and again, and again. Until you’re head hurts and you can’t see and everything sounds like you’re underwater. Until you’re curled up on the floor crying yellow tears in pain and grief. And why do you do this to yourself? Simple. You want the others to think you're useful again.
So you try again, and you feel it. Something small, way in the back of your think pan. A spark. Grinning, you block out the pain and push yourself one final time. To your surprise and delight, red and blue static crackles to life around your hand, and a chair goes flying. You are elated, and a smile splits your face.
Then everything goes wrong. Pain slams into you like a rampaging hoof beast, and the static dies out. It feels like your head is slowly getting ripped apart atom by atom. Your vision goes fuzzy, and a strangled scream worms it’s way out of your throat. You fall to your knees, and then onto your side, curled up in the smallest ball you can manage. And you slowly start to lose consciousness. Everything is shutting down, going dark around you. Oh gog...it’s happening all over again, just like the first time. But this time you know you’ll lose more than just your psionics. More than just your speech. And your right.
When you wake up, you are alone. You look down to see you are dressed in a black and yellow bodysuit. There is a helmet in the corner, but you don’t know who’s it is. You like the colors though, yellow and red and blue. They make you smile. You sit up, and wince. Ouch. Your head hurts. You look around, and see a chair lying on the floor. You wonder how it got there, and stand up to fix it. You stumble a lot, but you finally make it over. As you’re moving the chair, a girl comes in. She’s pretty, you think, in her teal and red outfit. She’s very kind to you as well. She helps you clean up, and hands you the helmet. You look at her, confused. The helmet isn’t yours. You tell her so, and she starts to look worried. She asks you what’s wrong. At least, you think she asked you. She called you something strange. She repeats what she said, and you piece together that what she’s saying is a name.
You ask her who Mituna is.
She runs out of the room crying.And you are left alone.