It was difficult for TO to imagine Tham as a child. It was actually difficult for them to picture any of their new friends as a child. Among civilians, most species had an infancy and a childhood before they were considered adults: this was common knowledge. TO was used to children by now, and though they had seen juvenile synths back in training, it never felt like they were truly synths. They seemed to TO more like the precursor to a synth, the blueprints to the ship, or the gas cloud to the star: not the same thing at all. The idea that a child of a species could eventually become an adult of the same species was simply odd. Maybe it was because they had no recollection of their own infancy. The vague images of the dreamlike state they had lived in until they were detanked had faded quickly, leaving only odd, familiar sensations or a longing for something they’d couldn’t remember.

They couldn’t fathom remembering their childhood, couldn’t understand being the same person as they were when they were young. They related in that way more to a specific species of civilian from the other edge of the galaxy: a strange species that underwent such a transformation during their adolescence and transformed so dramatically into their adult form that any recollection of their childhood was almost entirely detached from themself, if not forgotten. Perhaps that’s why they had never bothered to ask any of their new friends about their childhood. Vik had told them about their family and Lendulin had talked about coming to Arkane when she was young, but even when it was obvious that they were children at the time, TO still imagined them as just younger looking adults.

‘The System’, however, was not for adults. The second TO thought of kids in the system, they couldn’t help but picture small, chubby faced civilians running around and playing or sitting and listening attentively to an instructor just as the children had been listening to Tham earlier that day. As soon as Tham said that he and Pearla used to be system kids, TO tried their best to imagine what they might have looked like. They knew what a Nagarajin child looked like since they had seen many of them, but they either imagined a smaller version of their adult forms, or pictured children that seemed to have the same color but had no true visual relation to Tham or Pearla.

“What?” Tham said, chuckling as he watched TO’s confusion show in their ears. “You didn’t think we were system kids?”

“I never considered that you were children.” TO admitted, unable to come up with a less stupid answer in any reasonable time frame. For a second, they worried that Tham would be somehow offended by this, but the sudden bark of laughter that came from him got rid of that fear.

“You didn’t think… What?” Even though TO was still learning the more subtle ways that Nagarajins expressed emotion, they could pick up on Tham’s amusement and confusion from the way his eyes widened, his smile broadened, and his seemed to shake. “What, did you think I just hatched as a full-grown adult?”

TO’s ears dipped slightly as they brought their attention back to the game they were playing. “I did.” They said.

“…Shit.” Tham said, going back to the game as well. They were both silent for a while before Tham cleared his throat. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Must have been rough.”

“… Not really?” TO said. It never occurred to them that an absence of a childhood which they could recall was any kind of problem. “There’s a few species who naturally hold no memories of childhood once they become an adult.” TO frowned, their ears pinning as they considered something. “I’m unsure: Are Nagarajin the kind who can remember everything from the moment of their birth?”

“Thankfully, no,” Tham said with a sigh, “My earliest memory….” He paused, frowning. TO couldn’t tell if he was frowning in because of something he was working on in the game or because he was trying to remember. “Honestly, I think it was on the ship that brought us to Arkane in the first place.” He said, “I kind of remember things before that, but not well. I wouldn’t be able to tell you if shit actually happened or if it’s something I made up or dreamed… I remember being on the ship coming to Arkane, because I remember we were all waiting around Pearla’s egg waiting for her to hatch. I wanted to stay up and our parents said I could, but I fell asleep.” He smirked, His eyes softening slightly at his recollections. “When I woke up, there was this tiny shriveled thing sleeping in a box under our bunk. I thought she was a weird worm or something at first because she was so small. I thought she’d be the size of the egg.”

“What… what do you mean you ‘think’?” TO asked, now entirely ignoring the game. “You either remember something, or you don’t, right?”

“No?” Tham looked at TO in confusion, “Sometimes memories are fuzzy?”

“Not mine!” None of TO’s memories were fuzzy, and the idea of ‘remembering’ something, but not being sure if it had actually happened or not, was unsettling. “From the time I came out of the tank until now, I remember everything clearly!”

“Sounds exhausting.” Tham said as he looked back at the game. “Anyway, yeah, that’s around when I started to remember things properly. There’s a few gaps here and there until I guess I was five or six? I got a few memories of being… somewhere.” He frowned. “I don’t think it was the outer ring, because I think it was a proper house, but shortly after that we went into the system. I was six, Pearla was three.”

“Why?” TO asked. “What happened-“

“No idea.” Tham said. “Looked up records later, and apparently our parents went into the indebted system and died a few years later.”

“… I’m sorry.” TO said as their ears dipped. “I didn’t know-“

“I don’t have a lot of memories of them.” Tham said, now entirely focused on the game. “And Pearla doesn’t remember them at all. We were close to the other kids in our Pod. Our Pod Parent was kind–we were lucky in that–and a few of the older kids watched out for us too.”

“Pod?” TO said as they recalled some of the wording used in their file on Chilacian families. A Chilacian family was called a pod.

“Yeah, just the name of a group of kids under one adult.” Tham said. “In the place we grew up in, I think we had ten kids to a Pod Parent. It was essentially a big family. We all ate together, played together, we took the same classes until we were fifteen or so….”

“…What was it like?” TO asked. They knew what it was supposed to be like, or at least how the shows they watched would present the Childcare System: productive learning through play in youth, followed by training for trades or higher education when they were older. There was a level or structure that reminded TO of their own days in training, but of course with far more affection and friendship, and fewer rules on how they had to act.

“We were lucky, actually.” He said. “Like I said, our Pod Parent was kind. We were educated, fed, and clothed. We even kept in touch with them up until a few years ago. Pearla and I managed to stay out of trouble for the most part, and none of the older kids picked on us.” He smirked, “Well, not when we were little. When I was ten or so, some kids from another Pod decided they wanted to give us a hard time. That didn’t last long.”

“Why not?”

A snicker escaped Tham, “Because when they tried I kicked the shit out of them with a smile on my face.” my face.”

“Ah. Well. I suppose that would do it.” TO said.

“Yeah, for all GiDi told us about you guys and your training, I’m surprised they were so strict about violence.” Tham muttered. “Stupid. ‘yes, you’re all meaningless pawns to King Dick-face. Don’t have friends, or feelings, or any will to do anything other than serve. Be cold and ruthless, just don’t punch one another!’” He snorted. “Honestly, you’d think they’d pit you in combat against one another or something.” A frown crossed his face. “Though, I think Flit mentioned something about a trial by combat for some class of synth. I can’t remember exactly, though.”

“I doubt it.” TO said, now ignoring the game before them entirely. “You must have misunderstood something. Maybe he was talking about one of the tests in the simulation at the end. They don’t make it clear at first if they’re simulations or if they’re real. Avery never knew for certain.”

A long stretch of silence came after that. Avery might be waking up. Did the additional brain activity mean that Avery could tell when they were alone and when they weren’t? Were they conscious inside their head? TO hoped not, as the idea of being so trapped and alone seemed to be worse than being locked in a room alone for a week.

“... I’m sorry about Avery, by the way.” Tham said, finally cutting the silence between them.

“You are?” TO’s ears flicked forward, “Really?”

“Well, yeah.” Tham said as he looked over to TO, eyes narrowing, “I’m not that bad, am I?”

TO didn’t respond right away. There were many reasons why TO would think Tham might be happy that Avery was unconscious, or even hoping worse had happened. Maybe he had some trust for TO now, but they remembered Tham’s earlier hostility and distrust which sprung just from TO’s existence as a synth. If Tham showed outright hostility to Avery, it wouldn’t have surprised TO at all. Of course, Tham might also have a reason to be suspicious of their friend. Avery had begged for Kai to be released, which had been an overall bad idea, and there was suspicion as to why Avery was in the med room when Kai escaped.

Apparently, the time it took TO to respond was too long. Tham sighed and looked away. “Come on.” He grumbled. “No matter who it is, I can be sorry that someone hurt your friend, can’t I?”

“... Avery isn’t just my friend,” TO said. “They are my Ankyra.”

“Right.” Tham said, frowning again. For a second, TO thought that maybe Tham had an issue with the what they had said, but a moment later it became clear that he was again just trying to remember one of those apparently foggy memories. “GiDi mentioned an Ankyra to me before.” he shook his head. “They said something about Avery being my Ankyra too, but I don’t even understand what that means. Pearla just says it’s like she’s married into a family, and now I’m part of that family... but GiDi says there are bonds and stuff.” He wrinkled his nose, “No offense, but I’m not interested in ‘bonding’ with any of you.”

This time, TO was the one who chuckled. It was a very different sound from Tham’s low chuckle; a higher-pitched staccato laugh with soft clicks sounding under it. “It’s not that kind of bond,” they said after a moment, “And I promise, Avery has no interest in that kind of bond with anyone.”

“Well, I still don’t get it,” Tham said as he refocused on the game. “The way your families work is weird, too complicated.”

How long had the two of them been sitting together, playing this game? How long had they been talking together? TO had learned more about Tham in a single day than they had over the entire time they had known them, and it hadn’t even been that hard. Tham had been more willing than TO had thought they’d be to talk. Maybe Pearla had been right about her brother.

Of course, they were certain walking in on Tham in the state they were in back in the hall had added to that.

“... I could try to explain it to you.” TO said. “It’s... a lot of words, but it’s not actually that complicated.”

In the silence that followed, TO figured that Tham actually had no interest in learning about it, and no interest in actually being part of their ‘Pod’ as Chilacian families were called. Odd that it was the same word that had been used for the groups that kids in the system lived in.

“Sure.” Tham said after what seemed like ages, “Give it a shot. See if you make more sense than GiDi did.”