He was originally named John, a very common name.
He vaguely remembered living in a small village outside Graystone Fortress.
The house leaked wind, his mother coughed heavily, his father died in a mine collapse that winter.
Later, when famine struck, people in the village began sending their children to the "Charity Garden", saying that at least they could eat enough there.
He was among the last batch sent in, by then his mother had only a breath left, telling him to be obedient and live well.
At that place, indeed there was good food and drink for a while; back then he still believed that the people in white robes under the lamp were kind.
Until one day, he was pressed onto a metal table.
Cold instruments, restraining rings, a needle piercing his spine... his screams were stuffed into his throat, as if plunged underwater.
Later, even the voice disappeared.
Pain was cut off, memory was hollowed out, name was erased.
Only the number was left: No. 2371.
