I couldn't remember. Why couldn't I remember? What was a favorite color? What was a nickname? What was the meaning of friendship? Everything felt so faded. Dull, like a rusted blade trying desperately to cut through cardboard. There were times where I could vaguely recall thins, and times where nothing came back. What had happened? I'd never met these people ever in my life, and yet they were claiming that I was apart of some. . . taskforce? What was a taskforce? Why does the two heads of this task force look at me like some kind of ghost? An apparition that would fade away any moment if I wasn't being watched carefully at all times? Why did some people call me lieutenant? Why was there a man wearing a skull mask at all times? Why did he seem to hate me? Who were these two men who didn't really seem to know what to do? Had I just upended their entire world? Did I ruin something? They seemed distant. At least the Scot did. The Irishman seemed somewhat friendly. Everyone was hiding something. But what was it?