Amidst the drifting rock and ruined structures, laid a young male, curled up in a ball, crying from painful memories. He remembers hearing the news of his father being killed in action by a Nightmare they called a hunter, an old friend dying of surgery complication, and his loyal pet dying in his arms from a mass in her throat. Then he hears someone approach and tries to hide behind some rocks close by. He remembers the past times he got close to another human, misunderstanding, hostility in some cases, and often outright rejection. He hears an ominous voice, almost in pain. ???: I can sense your pain little one, the loss... the rejection... all of it. Come out, don't be afraid. The youth speaks in a nervous, awkward tone as he steps out of his hiding place. Child: w-who are you? You're not like the others? Trauma: I am Trauma, the Aspect of pain. You deserve a chance to use that pain on the worlds. I offer you to become my chosen, gain power beyond belief in exchange for helping me resolve a little... argument with my siblings. Trauma offers him a featureless, metal mask. The young adult takes the mask and puts it on. The pain he experienced before seemed to multiply with the mask on, but he stopped bothering to acknowledge. The mask began to have a pair of lines appear under the eye holes, almost like a constant stream of tears weathered the mask. Trauma smiles. Trauma: now let us return my chosen, let us give them the faces they deserve. The chosen follows him, although not as nervous as before. [quote]"And thus the suffering chosen was found. Trapped in an endless cycle of grief for Trauma to feed on, never to find peace." Nostalgia, Aspect of memory[/quote]