Historical Holograms From A Runaway Punk

Zi-Yen and I are on the way to Tech City, but we made a stop first. He was excited to go on this little adventure. I can’t say I am. Nami needed to stay back at the Lighthouse so she could keep the village together. The timer on the Mil-RAT now says, “68 hrs – 35 min – 42 sec.”

So here we are, in a four-wheeled dinosaur, speeding on a cracked path that leads straight into Tech City, with a map created by Nami. She charted our course and told us to take no detours, that it would only take a day to get on wheels.

Zi-Yen stopped the machine right when the path split. He wanted me to get the map and check it, but I couldn’t find it. He quickly realized that the map was gone and jumped out of the vehicle, pacing back and forth, thinking of what to do next. I think he was a little nervous.

“Left or right?” he asked me.

“Or we can go back and try to find the map?” I suggested.

“Wait for nightfall; see Tech City glow from here.”

“If we must.” I didn’t like the idea, but I didn’t want to fight with him either. So, we found this place to rest, and I found a spot to lie down. I could feel Zi-Yen’s eyes on me, staring at me. So, I asked him, “What?”

“So, what do you do when in Tech City?”

“Right,” I said sarcastically, thinking it was a joke, “Just whisk right in, defeat the bad guy, and boom, the city, is all mine. Right?”

“Shit, yea!” Zi-Yen smiled. “All my life, wanted this to happen, to be Shambhala Warrior, fight for something. Just like Zora. But you don’t care? Why?” he asked.

“All I wanted was to find my mom because I thought she was exiled. Now it’s this do-or-die situation that is way over my head. Like, is this for real? Is this reality? What happened to this world? I mean, where are your parents? Where are your mom and dad? Don’t YOU remember them?” I asked him.

“They died. No, I don’t want to find them, I know exactly, buried, dead. I remember. So that’s my reality. But I want something to make it better. Fight for something!”

“FOR WHAT?!?! Do you even know what you want to fight for?”

“I hoped you would help. But you still clumsy. You no care, do you?”

Zi-Yen was right, but I didn’t want to say anything. Instead, I just shut my eyes and turned the other way while he stormed off, leaving me to be by myself. What is there to care about?

I closed my eyes and melted into a soft dream while listening to the sounds of nature, the wind, the birds, and the trees swaying back and forth. It was very soothing after Zi-Yen’s torment.

My mind went into the trees, down in the roots, up the main truck, and towards the branches. I could feel every vein of every leaf, every speckle of light it felt, the light slowly fading away with the falling sun. The leaves transformed into faces, and I could see their memories, pasts, ancestors, and where they came from. I saw King’s tomb outside of Tech City. I remembered Nami’s lesson about King and what she taught me about him. The memories of an enslaved people flashed through my mind, the pain, the torment, the torture. It all flashed forward to Tech City, the people held down by chains, unable to escape the grasp of Mayor Sye. It was a history repeating itself, and it started to make me cry. Then Zi-Yen shook me awake.

“What?” I asked.

“More Mil-RATs, all around us, keep still.”

Then I saw them, little flying balls sweeping the grounds around us. We rushed to a nearby tree and climbed up its branches.

“They’re looking for something,” I said.

“What?” asked Zi-Yen.

I shrugged, not knowing the answer. Soon they were gone.

“I think I know now; I mean, what to fight for. I was created for a purpose. But it’s just that I never really owned it. I didn’t feel a connection to it.”

“What YOU want, right now, King? You found mother, you know,” he said.

“This is growing up, isn’t it? Realizing that things change?”

“Life is never the same.”

“Especially with you as my little turd of a brother!”

“Look! I see it!” Zi-Yen pointed behind me. When I turned my head around, I saw the soft yellowish glow of Tech City.

“Well?” Zi-Yen asked.

“Well, what?”

“Why go?”

“Well, because I remembered a dream with freedom written all over it!”

Zi-Yen yelled out with joy, “We Shambhala Warriors!”

I laughed, realizing that his childhood dream was coming true. With that came feelings of more determination and more willingness to do what was right. I felt my childhood memories beginning to shed away, that this was the final moment for me to make peace with the past and become more grown-up. I felt that life was not just about me, but rather, it was about people and the freedom of people. So do or die; I’m in it to win it.