#my take on ace's story since caydes mind has been shuffled so much

[locke-writing]

As I sit here on this frozen balcony, my thoughts drift back to you, to us, and to the life we once had. I find myself compelled to write this last confession, a letter that will likely never reach you. But maybe, somehow, in some way, you'll know what I need to say.

Losing you to that disgusting facility was the worst thing that ever happened to me. They blackmailed you, twisted your arm with those debts you couldn't pay off. Your gambling addiction didn't help, but they exploited that mistake at work, driving us into a desperate corner. I remember how you were gone all day, every day, at that new job you were so thrilled about. For once, we could pay the bills, and you were proud.

"The Golden Age" – what a joke. Just a power grab by those ahead in the game, squeezing the rest of us dry. It was always just you and me against the world.

Then, that letter arrived. It was pristine. It came from a different world... promised to get us out of debt and back on our feet. Some vague volunteer opportunity. We had no idea what was really going on until after you signed on the dotted line. Filthy promises.

I was what, twelve or thirteen when it happened? You left for work one morning and never came back.

Can you even imagine what it was like for me? Being a kid, alone, with no idea where you were. Getting taken out of our home with you nowhere to be found. For years, I thought you'd abandoned me. I was so angry. That hatred stayed with me through my teens while I bounced around the foster system. I didn’t get out until I was eighteen.

BrayTech kept everything under wraps, their little experiments hidden from the public eye. But I knew something was wrong, especially after they launched that Exomind program – promising eternal life to the wealthy in case of catastrophe. I was convinced they did something to you after that.

When I was twenty, I managed to get a jumpship to Europa. I walked into their HQ with a shiny resume, hoping for a job somewhere. Anywhere. I needed to see for myself; to gather evidence. People called me crazy for suspecting BrayTech, but something about those swept over missing person cases gnawed at me. Nobody did anything for them. For us. A coverup. I know it.

I got a job in their lobby, just outside the "classified" areas of the lab. For eight months, I shuffled papers, quietly observing, waiting. Then, one day, I heard it. You'd been deployed here. Your voice through the glass. It was distorted, like an uncanny echo of the man I remembered. Like it wasn't quite you.

It wasn't as heavy with the pain we went through together. You sounded young again.

I looked up, and there you were. An Exo, all shiny white and dressed in a spotless guard's uniform. A rifle slung over your back. You were jesting with some woman, sneering in a way that felt both foreign and familiar.

Oh yeah. That was you, alright.

I was fired the next day. I guess it was too obvious how upset I was after seeing you like that. You looked right through me, Dad. Your eyes flicked over me, and you didn’t recognize me while they told you to escort me out of the building.

"Beat it, kid."

They didn't tell you that you'd get your memories wiped when you signed up, right? They didn't tell you that your body would die... right? I know you didn't choose to forget me.

Now, as I write this, there's a shadow growing over the snow. I've tried to expose their lies, to scream about the human experiments they conduct behind closed doors. No one listened.

There's a darkness spreading over the compound, and I fear my time to reveal the truth is running out.

They took you from me, and you don’t even know.

Dad, I'm an old man now, and you're still their slave. I love you. I know you're in there.

Your son,

"Ace"