Construct
"Sora?"
Blue eyes flicked open, accompanied by a faint whirring noise. Riku looked on with anticipation as his friend's new body came to life.
"Where—where am I?"
Riku stepped forward as the cyborg's fingers twitched; blue eyes turned to examine the room around them. "DiZ's workshop. Just take it slow, you're still adjusting to the-the," Riku waved his hand vaguely, "cybertronics or whatever it's called. DiZ knows all the technical terms."
"DiZ?"
"Yeah." Riku stared at the floor. "He specializes in stuff like this. Putting bodies together when so little remains." Riku glanced back up. "There wasn't much left to work with after the accident, Sora, but we couldn't lose you."
Only the sound of the cyborg's body, whirring and clicking as he processed this, filled the silence.
Riku fiddled with the hem of a sleeve, biting his lip, before breaking the silence. "Look, Sora, I'm sorry, we shouldn't have just decided—"
"Who's Sora?" the cyborg asked, cocking his head.
Riku stiffened. "What?"
"Do I…do I know you?"
Riku frowned. "It's Riku. We're best friends."
"Oh…"
"Look, just stay here, I'm going to go get DiZ. Something must've gone wrong. Don't worry, we'll fix it!"
Again the low hum of the cyborg processing this. Riku lingered, staring at the vacant blue eyes, before rushing out the door to find DiZ.
"Sora," the cyborg repeated, testing the syllables out. Then: "DiZ. Riku." The names didn't mean anything to him. The silver hair was somewhat familiar, but beyond that, he couldn't recall anything. "What am I?" He held a hand out in front of his face, fingers stretched wide as he examined it. It looked normal enough, human enough, he decided. He felt—well, he couldn't remember anything from before, but he felt that everything was working within him as it should be. But there was something…he couldn't pin it down, but something was off. Something didn't fit right.
He plucked at the white shift covering him. Well, that could easily be changed. It wasn't that. He needed to see himself. Another quick survey of the room, and his eyes landed on a mirror on the wall. Yes, that would do. He moved forward and stumbled. That was right. Still adjusting, Riku had said. He concentrated on the movements required for walking, watching his bare feet scuff across the floor, until it felt natural, and he could focus on his destination again.
The polished glass was large enough to reflect all of him. He was short, pale. Fresh pink scars in a few places, there on the underside of an arm, another high across his thigh and disappearing under the shift. He lifted that up, to trace the path of pink, but it had become less of a trail and more of a horror, crossing his chest diagonally and ending in a mass of shiny flesh on his flank. They didn't hurt, but the newly grown skin was sensitive, and on either side of a scar, the skin was…different. Well, perhaps it was supposed to be.
The cyborg let his shift fall and examined his face. His eyes looked a little glassy, but he'd just woken up. That was normal. His hair, though, that didn't match the image he had of himself. The brown hair was wild and unruly, too dark. It was supposed to be—
"Blond," he said, turning as he heard Riku return to the room, an old blond man in tow. "Why isn't my hair blond?"
The old man stepped forward. "Let's get you go back to the pod, Sora. There was an error syncing—"
"I'm not Sora," he said, voice firm.
Riku hovered behind the old man, face dark with concern and regret.
"Who are you, then?" the man asked kindly.
"My name is Roxas." The cyborg's eyes flickered. Yes, that was who he was. He was sure of it.