Drakais.
There would be things. Things in the world when I wake up. I seem to remember vaguely a sensation of feeling, mostly of confusion. There would be organic sleeves that would have the property of being intuitive but only on the outside. I might also be in one of those organic sleeves. Horatos used to tell us that being recast into one of those missions on this particular planet, usually leads to amnesia, such is the drugging property of the sleeves we are grafted into. Missions like this usually fail, from the billions of “Drakais” who have been grafted into earth, few remember their original mission, fewer even do not forget and veer off their path battling through the millions of obstacles designed to lure and ensnare them. But not this time.
