A.N: Just a short note before you read this story. I thought this story up after I finished Jak 3 and the main plot is a dead spoiler to the game, so if you haven't played the game by now do it before you read this fic. Hopefully I will finish this fic before I get bored with it.

Prologue:

Tomo was afraid for his life, but his cold chiseled features masked his emotions. It was true that he was a man who was regarded highly for his bold courage and superior skill in combat, but when you have made the Warrior King your enemy, you should be afraid. Tomo looked down at the young child, only three years of age and already destined to be the most powerful man this world has ever seen. The child looked up at him with his innocent blue eyes, a cold sweat inched down Tomo's back making him shiver and look away from the child. The darkness of the tunnel was welcoming to Tomo and he felt himself relax as he stared into nothingness.

The hum of the zoomers seized to exist as the hour wore on, yet the alarms still screamed for the child in their two toned ring. The King would stop at nothing to get his son back and had probably assigned most of the city's guards looking for the brat. Tomo was assured by his contacts that no one would find him and he would be safe, for a while. Tomo believed them; the central part of the city was enormous and the likelihood of the guards knowing of the old Lurker tunnel within was doubtful. The tall concrete buildings and the many numerous allyways would keep the guard occupied for days, increasing Tomo's chance of being undetected and walking away from his crime.

The rusted iron hatch squeaked and groaned as it was carefully twisted open. Tomo moved into the shadows, keeping the kid behind him. A shadowy figure moved into his line of sight and Tomo reached for his blaster instinctively.

"Tomo," whispered the person. Tomo revealed himself at the mention of his name, "Ah there you are, is the child with you?"

"Aye, he is. Are you to take him then?"

"Very good. Yes I will take him now."

The stranger didn't sound like a goon to Tomo, and it was unusual for educated upper class citizens to take part in 'his' kind of activities. But the kid was being taken off of his hands, as was the fear of being caught by the King. Tomo gladly handed over the child and watched the two leave the hideaway. He would wait awhile till he himself surfaced, just a precaution he learned to take back in his youth when himself and a close friend, coming from poor families, had taken up thievery to survive. On a particularly wealthy job he and his friend had returned to their hideaway in order to wait out the search. After everything had died down his friend had emerged from the tunnel with him closely following. A group of guards were waiting for them and arrested him and his friend. Tomo remembered that day well, had he waited a few minutes before following after his friend, he wouldn't have gone to prison for the year.

Tomo looked up at the entrance, the stranger had forgotten to close it. Tomo shrugged and began to climb the ladder, when a small spherical object hit his head. He looked down to see what had hit him - it was a plasmite bomb. Tomo started to climb the ladder faster but the hatch had closed and was locked from the outside. The stranger smiled as a muffled boom reached his ears.

"Do not be frightened boy, you are needed in the future were you will help unfold events that will lead to my uprising."

Heavy clouds were settling over the city promising rain later in the day, as Damas paced on the balcony of the palace. The sight of the city was usually a pleasant one for Damas, but today was filled with grief and the powerfully built man could find no beauty in the city below. He leaned on the rail and looked down at the maze of streets, he was to high to see the activity going on below but he knew it was chaotic. The order he had given the Guard was to lock down the city and find his son at all costs. Three hours had passed since then and panic began to swell his heart.

It was the happiest day of Damas's life when his son was born. He named him Mar, after the great King of the past, and following the tradition of calling the first born son Mar or Damas alternating with each successive generation. The name seemed to suit the boy, even as an infant Mar had the spirit of a true hero. Damas would spend as much time as he could with the boy, telling him of his journies and of the Legends of Mar. Even before the seer Onin had predicted the boy's greatness, Damas had seen it himself in Mar's striking blue eyes, his eyes.

Damas took out the seal of the House of Mar from his pocket and closed his fingers around the tiny trinket.

"My Son"