THIS AUTHORS NOTE IS NEEDED TO UNDERSTAND THE STORY

Okay, so The Kid chooses Restoration, and The Bastion resets everything, and everyone loses their memories as well. However, for the purpose of the game story-line, the Calamity ALSO wipes their memories, so they wouldn't remember these encounters. I hope that makes sense.

Thanks for reading.

The Kid grunted when he collided with the ground, hitting a rock with his knee. Silently cursing Olak for his less-than-soft landing, he struggled up, only to be confronted with a Cinderbrick apron. The kind of ones that only Mancers have.

It was said that they received one at their graduation to protect themselves from the raw amount of void they mess with up there in the Observatory.

Sure, The Kid had been to the Observatory before, on a field trip. But that was only to the visitor's centre, and the scene before him is a whole different place. Squirts were floating around carrying supplies while Caelondians used blowtorches and all manner of tools never seen on the Walls on various projects.

"What are you doing here? This area is for government personnel only." said the owner of the apron in a very bored tone, as if he thought he was qualified for much more.

The Kid raised his head and got up, an old man with a kindly face and a crutch entering his vision.

The elder peered at him as if noticing for the first time that he was a teenager, while simultaneously, The Kid started up at the man with the same curiosity, trying to place the face that seemed so familiar, yet did not exist in his memories. With difficulty, The Kid focused on what the man was saying.

"Forgive my old memories, but have we met..." before? The Kid finished silently in his head, again trying to think where the man was from.

Shaking his head, The Stranger focused on the current subject, but not before making a joke on The Kid's expense. "Maybe it was just a family resemblance" he joked, referencing the similarity in hair colour, "I'm Rucks."

He held out his hand, and The Kid grasped the hand formally, while flashes of a girl his own age, and a young man, both Ura, flashed before his eyes for a millisecond.

The man, now identified as Rucks, brought him back from his own thoughts via a question. "So you're who The Marshals sent? I surprised it's a Kid." He paused, as if waiting for The Kid to interrupt, but carried on when nothing happened. "But I guess you can't disagree with the law now can you?" The Kid merely nodded shortly, being led around the laboratory towards a project that seemed to have the most commotion around it.

There was steam creating its own microclimate around the chassis, and a continuous supply of a coolant The Kid couldn't identify being pumped into it. As The Kid got closer towards it, the city crest on his back hummed with vibrations. With every step he took, the reverberations seemed to get more violent. Rucks just glanced at The Kid's back, and scribbled something down on a notepad he'd picked up from a passing desk, muttering something that sounded like 'Core'. Before The Kid could ask about it, they were intersected and joined by a tall Ura, proceeding ever closer to the machinery.

As soon as the Ura man walked within earshot along the other side of The Kid, Rucks went completely still. Examining the man's face, The Kid was once again struck with a headache brought on by gaps in his memory. The man briefly introduced himself as Venn, and then directly briefed him on the situation.

Apparently, whenever they turned on the machine for a test run, windbags appear out of nowhere and started to attack the conductors that kept the observatory running. "That's why," Venn said in a slight accent, "We needed the marshal's best fighters to hold them off while we test it out to see what needs to be adjusted" he paused for a second or two, casting an eye over The Kid, clearly un-impressed. "However, it seems they've made a mistake. We asked for at least 10 of the best fighters to hold them off. Almost 80 windbags come at once; no way even one man with the highest grade weapons could hold them off, let alone a Kid with a simple hammer..." He sighed in sympathy.

"I'm sorry Kid, but you'll have to go back." Almost as if the God's were listening, the glass floor of the observatory suddenly shook and groaned, a deafening klaxon sounding, drowning out any conversation on the floor.

Immediately, everyone ran for a bunker on the far side of the observatory, designed to withstand out-of-control projects.

At first, The Kid was absolutely dumbfounded, but then he turned around, and saw the hundreds of Gasfellas bearing down on the workshop, blotting out the sun.

Rucks and Venn sprinted towards the machine, with The Kid just behind them, where half the scientists were scurrying over the gears, while the other (more intelligent) half were just cutting their losses and running full-pelt for cover.

"WHO IN THE NAME OF JEVEL TURNED ON THE MACHINE?" Venn screamed over the klaxon, "THE DAMAGE THOSE WINDBAGS WILL CREATE WILL SET BACK THIS PROJECT BY A YEAR!"

The Kid might have been imagining it, but to him, Venn didn't seem too unhappy at the prospect.

However, despite this, the remaining scientists cowered and quailed under his gaze, while Rucks, obviously the second in command, tried to calm him down. "There's nothing we can do now, we have to take shelter!" After a few seconds of arguing, the Ura eventually agreed, and they all retreated towards the bunker.

Rucks was just about to follow them before he saw The Kid hadn't even moved, just staring at the oncoming horde with indifference. "COME ON!" Rucks shouted "THEY'LL KILL YOU!" The Kid just glanced back and grimaced, as if already regretting what he was about to do. He gave Rucks a look that conveyed a pretty clear message.

You think I'm just a Kid? Watch.

Then, he signalled The Stranger to get back into the building with a flick his hand, and walked towards the invading force, hefting his Life-Long Friend from his back. He dropped the head of the weapon on the floor, while grasping the shaft and leaning it against his head, praying to Lemaign that this wouldn't be the last time they fought, the times that they'd had together...

Finishing his prayer, The Kid felt a shift in the air above him, and peeked out of one eye, only to be faced with the business end of a pick.

Rucks got back to the bunker just in time to see The Kid lifting a Cael hammer from his back, twirling it with ease as he set it down on the ground in front of the Mancer project, kneeling down behind his weapon. Now he was directly in the way of the Gasfellas and the core they wanted so bad. Course, Kid didn't know that. He almost couldn't believe what the boy was doing. A Kid, sacrificing himself for them? Rucks had seen that look in his eyes. The look that told of a person weary of the injustice of the world, and would do anything to change it. It pained him to see such pain in someone so young. The boy was what? 17?

Millions of windbags bearing down upon him while he just knelt there with a weapon that was supposed to be a tool.

Never moving an inch.

The horde coming ever closer and closer, until the leader lifted his pick to bring down onto the silent Kid.

SMASH!

The Kid uppercuted the windbag right in its mid-section with so much force that it disintegrated on the spot, following up the strike with the trademark secret skill of The Masons, Stunning wallop, slamming the ground. Almost half of the miners around him were knocked onto their backs, immobilizing them while The Kid sent their essence back to the mines where they came from, one by one. Rucks watched in amazement The Kid wade through swathes of foes, even with his ever growing injuries.

A misjudged roll there, a delayed dodge here.

The Kid was slowing down, drained by the conflict.

As the last few fell to his ferocity, The Kid, thinking the battle was won, allowed himself to crumple to the ground under his injuries, Gasfella Goo steaming off him.

Just then, a huge Scumbag crawled up the side of the observatory, sidling up behind The Kid.

Even with their mouths agape at witness of the carnage The Kid had just created, the scientists responded quickly at the danger looming up behind the savoir of their life's work. Shouting, screaming and waving, they tried to make The Kid aware of the danger looming up behind him. However, despite all their efforts, the bunker was designed to withstand anything, even sound.

All they could do was watch as The Kid finally heard a noise, whirling around to see a mouth descending upon him, swallowing him whole.

A Lonesome Hammer, finally parted from its friend, fell to the ground.

As the scientists trickled out of the bunker, watching the Scumbag happily lapping up the Goo on the floor, Rucks tried to comprehend what he had just seen.

The Kid saved them all. The Kid had saved their project. Some Kid just sacrificed his life for a machine that would cause genocide.

Everyone stopped dead, their hairs sticking up on end. The air was charging up with ozone and electricity.

A lightning bolt released from the heavens, striking the scumbag, exploding it, setting the witnesses teeth chattering and their bones on edge.

As the dust cleared, there, lying on his front, was The Kid.

Lemaign had deigned his fight worthy of giving him a second chance.

As everyone gathered around him, silence fell on the group, too afraid to wake him, now knowing what he was capable of.

Then he stirred.

"Hey, Kid."

As words swam into his consciousness, The Kid felt like he had swallowed excessive amounts of Stabsinthe. His mouth was dry, feeling pain all over. Trying to get up, he barely got an inch before his wrists gave way and he blacked out.

"Get up Kid."

Swimming into consciousness again, feeling a little stronger, he tried again. This time, he got to his arms, but before his elbows could lock, they gave way, and he was engulfed by the blackness once again.

"Come on Kid, that ain't funny, I said get up."

Grunting with perseverance, The Kid struggled to his feet in a circle of people.

"That's more like it."

Picking up his hammer and strapping it to his back, The Kid looked behind him, finding Rucks smiling at him.

This time, it reached his eyes.

"I guess you have to get back to The Marshals now eh?"

The Kid nodded the affirmative, wincing at the stiffness of his neck.

Rucks seemed to notice this, draping the boy's arm around his neck, helping him limp back to the skyway, talking continuously. "You did a great job back there." He exclaimed, indicating the edge of the Observatory, where soot and cracks covered the floor.

"The Windbags probably won't be coming back any time soon thanks to you, so we can continue with our calibrations with no further interruptions."

Remaining silent, The Kid's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as the man's voice reverberated throughout his brain, igniting deep memories and unseen places.

However, before he could ask Rucks about them, they got to the skyway.

Smiling for once in a very long time, The Kid did a lazy two finger salute before jumping into the skyway, tossing and tumbling in the air currents, heading towards The Rippling walls looming over the horizon.

Rucks was about to leave, before he swirled round urgently. "Hey! I didn't even catch your na-" he started, only to be confronted with an empty skyway plate and a Kid flying into the sunrise.

When The Kid got near to the rippling walls, he prayed to the gods for a safe landing for once. Ofcourse, being Olak's source amusement for the century, they never heeded his prayers, and The Kid fell flat on face.

The Kid grumbled, making sure none of his bones were broken, when he froze.

He could hear singing.

Course, Kid has heard singing before, the harsh, drunk tones coming from The Wall's distilleries... but this... this was something else. Melodic and beautiful, it filled The Kid with joy. As his ears tuned to the sound, he caught a few words.

"I dig my hole, you build a wall..."

He got up.

I hope you enjoyed this! Comment and give me Kudos if you want. Like always, I'm not going to force you via blackmail or anything, but it would really help to get some feedback and constructive criticism, and would encourage me to write more regularly.