s consciousness slowly returned in a foggy and excruciatingly painful haze to the young man on the forest floor, he cautiously opened his eyes. As soon as he perceived that his assailants were gone, his dark brown eyes lightened; he released a sigh of relief. Pushing himself to his knees, his light brownish-red hair falling into his eyes, the Japanese man looked around. The forest, still dark, no longer hid his pursuers and would-be murderers. Somehow, the darkness didn't frighten him.

               He didn't know why.

               Looking down at himself, he grimaced with distaste, remembering the terrifying moment when the Project Epsilon task force caught him in the run. Already overwhelmed with fatigue, he couldn't do anything to protect himself – as if a mere fist-fighting would've saved him. He touched his lips and looked closely at the dark stain on his fingers. Blood. One of Epsilon's men floored him flat to the ground in one blow, tearing the skin around his mouth and drenching his chin with fluid. After that, it was a basic free-for-all amongst the task force.

               The Japanese man shook his head. He didn't remember who he was, where he came from, or what his past history was. He didn't even remember his name. Chikusho! That does a lot for me! Angry at his failure to regain his memory, he forgot about his injuries and almost stood – only to nearly fall flat upon his face. His ribs ached and his kneecaps felt busted to a certain extend; he wasn't even sure if his lungs were punctured or not. He felt very filthy as well, covered as he was in his own blood and sweat. He'll have to discard his torn clothes once he got out of here.

               Where was here? Jolting his memory, he suddenly remembered seeing German on the Project Epsilon sign when they seized him and forcibly brought him to their headquarters via an armored van. There, he underwent torment of the mind and body as they tried to do something – he could only vaguely recall something about DNA and a human source for other life forms. There was another girl there as well – a beautiful young Asian girl with brownish-red hair. But he couldn't talk to her, for the Epsilon scientists tranquilized her and then proceeded to do the same thing to him.

               He didn't know who she was, although something in his sixth sense told him she seemed familiar. But how so?

               Germany. So he was in Germany. And without his own identity – no name to go by. He didn't even know what nationality or race he was. He was sure a look in some public bathroom mirror would help him with that enigma. But first, he needed a name.

               He was in Germany. And he remembered, clearly, that in some nation on the other side of the world, there was something about an identification number. Something like an 'employee identification number' or some term like that. Something in abbreviations that came out like 'EIN.' The Japanese man suddenly jerked forward as if someone controlled his joints from above. Ein? That sounded…acceptable. It was a German word or particle in their language, he knew. Ein…why not? Except he won't take it as an 'employee identification number.' Maybe something more like 'enigmatic identification number.'

               Ein allowed himself a small smile.

               Perfect.

               Now, he just needed to get out of this forest, get out of Germany, and see what was really going on. Maybe he could solve something to this mystery surrounding his life as well. Ein slowly climbed to his feet, all the while holding his throbbing side.

               Life just looked a lot more satisfying and less violent.