Day 1

The first thing that Jak noticed was the head-splitting migraine. It ached horribly and made his thoughts fuzzy and he couldn't focus on any particular idea. He tried to remember what had just happened; it was something important, but the migraine made his brain sluggish.

Then came the smell. It was a putrid stench; the air stank of filthy surroundings, unwashed bodies, disease, and death. Jak's eyes flew open and he bolted upright at the fetid smell, causing his head to throb all the more. But the headache was soon forgotten when Jak took in his surroundings. His mind was still felt foggy, but he saw every detail with acute vision. He was in a dirty, cramped space that was occupied by himself and four other men. Their faces were withdrawn and haggard; their flesh was grey from either the greenish lighting or their poor health, or possibly both. Jak noticed the opening to the tiny room was lined with metal bars, making it a prison cell. The horrid smell came from his cellmates. They wore prison outfits that Jak assumed would have been identical were it not for the various tatters and stains that covered them. The men were greasy and ill-looking, and their sad expressions only added to their overall pathetic appearance.

The cell itself was absolutely disgusting; its stone structure was clearly as uncared for as its inhabitants were. Jak peered out through the bars of his cell only to discover a dark, cavernous prison. It had hundreds upon hundreds of cells that lined the walls. Both the ceiling and the floor were so far away that both eventually receded into darkness, concealing more cells and prisoners. But the most frightening fixture was the small platform that rose up from the depths of the shadow-veiled floor. On the platform was a single metal chair that had arm and leg restraints. Hovering just above the awful chair was some kind of large machinery with sharp pincers; Jak could only guess it was some kind of torture device. He felt his stomach knot with fear at the sight. He leaned against the wall farthest away from the chair, but he could still see it. It seemed as if all of the cells had been built in view of the torture chair, as if to say, "There is no escape."

Jak closed his eyes, and tried to recall how he had gotten in this nightmare. He, Daxter, Keira, and Samos had just finished reconstructing the Precursor Rift Gate back in Sandover Village. They had all gathered on the Rift Rider, ready to start the machine. Jak remembered Keira's excited face, and how her expression had made him so happy and eager to discover just what the Rift Gate's purpose was. It was the last good memory he would have in a long time.

What happened next was a blur: the Rift Gate opened a portal where an enormous, hideous beast appeared. The great monster roared as dozens of small, winged beasts flew in droves into the village. The monster's terrible, booming voice echoed around Jak's mind. He remembered its words: "You cannot hide from me, boy." And then suddenly the Rift Rider shot them towards the monster and into the portal, where he and Daxter were separated from Keira and Samos. Samos had called out, "Find yourself, Jak!" just as a strange light enveloped everything.

The next thing that Jak could recall was dark, imposing buildings. He had never seen anything like them; he obviously wasn't in Sandover Village anymore. Red-clad warriors had then quickly approached Jak and Daxter, wielding strange weapons. Daxter fled and one of the men spoke. "Forget the rat, the Baron wants him."

Jak couldn't fathom as to why these strange men were looking for him. He felt so disoriented; he had never seen a city before and these warriors looked so daunting and unfamiliar. The man who had spoken earlier now directed his attention towards Jak, and said with a menacing smirk, "We've been waiting for you." And then Jak was pushed into darkness, with only Daxter's voice promising, "Don't worry, Jak! I'll save ya before ya know it!"

Jak's eyes opened, ending his reverie at the sound of heavy footsteps. The man from earlier stopped in front of his cell, and his mouth curled into a devilish grin. He was rather short, with cropped hair that was an ugly shade of orange. The men in Jak's cell cowered at the sight of the man.

"Well, Jak, how are you enjoying your new home? I hope it fits your high standards." The man laughed cruelly for a moment at his joke, and then focused his cold eyes once again on his prisoner. "I am Erol. I serve his Majesty Baron Praxis. Your duty under the Baron is to forget who you are. You are nothing here but a mere experiment. Forget where you came from and what you once knew. It means absolutely nothing here."

His words felt like a punch in the gut. Forget who he was? Experiment? Just who did this Erol person think he was? Jak threw himself against the metal bars and growled at Erol in a burst of fury. "Ooh, how scary." Erol looked amused at Jak's outburst. "A little boy who doesn't use his words won't get very far in life." He made a tsk tsk sound and waved his index finger back and forth as if scolding a child.

Erol then made a signaling motion and one of the red-clad warriors came over, holding a rod with prongs on one end. The prongs began to crackle as electricity sprung from their tips. The warrior stuck the prongs through the bars and made contact with the skin on Jak's arm. It made a horrible sizzling noise, and a fast, burning pain shot through his entire body. Jak yelped and jumped backwards to get away, and hit the opposite wall. The warrior retracted the prongs and Erol began to laugh again.

"That will teach you to use better manners. Remember that when you are in the presence of the Baron." He began to walk away when he added as an afterthought, "And you may want to extend the same courtesy to the Krimzon Guards as well. They serve the Baron as I do. They may be a little trigger happy with punks such as yourself." He gestured to the red warrior to follow him and both men finally left.

Jak gently rubbed his arm where it had been shocked. An angry red welt the size of his fist was starting to develop. One of his fellow inmates made a sympathetic mumble. "The Guards shocked me so much my first week that I developed a habit of havin' seizures." Jak had many questions for the prisoners. Where exactly was he? Why was he here? Who was this Baron Praxis? Why did Erol and the Krimzon Guards want to torment him? But he still found he could not speak. He had tried many times when he was younger, but eventually had given up. He wasn't stupid; it was just something he wasn't particularly good at.

Later that day, a Guard came by the cell and tossed Jak some scratchy prison garb. "You are to wear that at all times. Do you understand?" The Guard's voice sounded tinny, like he had spoken into in aluminum can. Jak nodded in response and began putting on his new attire.

"You're now as stylish as the rest of us," one of the cellmates said without humor.

"Silence," the Guard pointed his electric rod at the prisoner.

The rest of the day passed in silence. There were no windows that Jak could see, so he didn't know what time it was. He felt his stomach rumble with hunger and his throat was so dry. Jak got the attention of one of the men in his cell and pantomimed eating food and drinking a glass of water. The man smiled grimly and said wearily, "Son, you'd better get used to eating on the Guard's schedule. Sometimes we'll go days without food or something to drink. When they do give us something, make sure to only eat about half of it and then ration the other half to last the next couple of days."

Jak was stunned. He was only a poor villager, but he had never once gone hungry. Samos had always made sure to provide him with food, although it was only vegetarian-style. He and Daxter would usually have had to go catch their own meat.

Suddenly, a thunderous, stomping noise droned out any other sounds. It was the sound of about a dozen Krimson Guards approaching. Jak's cellmates obviously knew what was happening; their faces contorted into wild fear and they cowered in the furthest corner of the filthy cell. One of them began muttering feverishly under his breath, "Please not us, please not us, please not us."

The Guards stopped directly in front of Jak's cell, and the men inside began to wail and moan as if they were dying. The cell was opened and all of its occupants, save for Jak, were dragged out. They resisted, clawing and kicking, and their screams were too much.

"No! Don't let them take us! Please!" One man clung to Jak's sleeve until a Krimzon Guard began to beat him with his rod. Jak felt numb with horror; he couldn't even feel the tears stream down his face. The four men were taken away, but their anguished cries rang out for what felt like centuries. Jak did not know where they had been taken. It was the last time he saw them.