My first memory is the crunch of broken glass beneath my feet. A large hand helped me step out of the shattered tube that had housed my growing body.

As my eyes searched the room for some sign of recognition, I saw hundreds of other tubes, just like mine, arranged in precise formation covering the floor.

My gaze fell on a large vat in the far corner of the room, surrounded by a glass wall. "Who is that?" I asked, the words coming from somewhere deep in my newborn brain.

My companion, a tall, striking man, with messy hair and a large chin, responded, "She is of no concern to you. She is full-blood human. Come."

My companion, who I soon learned was called Oracle, led me out of the "Greenhouse", as he called it. A place for growing new bodies. I can't even imagine how many have been grown, if the Greenhouse only held this year's crop.

As I followed Oracle, my bloodied footsteps testified that I, too, had been born into mortality. But I was not a mortal, in the human sense of the word.

I was Synclad.

Oracle explained to me that Synclad was a synthetic being grown in a tank and brought to life using tapped energy from a newly discovered dimension. Synclad is the slang term for "Synthetic Clad in Flesh." Synclad for short.

Oracle led me through the hallways into a laundry facility. There he changed his stolen outer clothes for his original dark trenchcoat. He gave me a silver and black bodysuit to wear. Over my dark hair, I pulled a retro-style baseball cap. Oracle quickly wrapped my feet in linen before shoving boots at me.

"We have to leave. Now." I followed him out the door.

Standing on the ledge overlooking the sprawling metropolis, I gained a very real sense of my own insignificance. Great vehicles whizzed between the buildings in chaotic traffic patterns. I sensed, rather than saw, the millions of people that must inhabit this place. The energy was palpable. It filled the air. I wanted to see everything. Do everything. I wanted to know what it was like to be human. To be alive. To experience. To live.

But a hand on my shoulder prevented me from even continuing that thought.

"It is time to go."

I followed Oracle up the outside of the building to a waiting motorcycle on the roof. He climbed on and gestured for me to climb into the sidecar. I did so, and we were off like a shot. My eyes widened as Oracle gunned the engine and leaped off the skyscraper into the air.

My scream caught in my throat as we plummetted toward the traffic below. As we dropped through the lanes of flying traffic, Oracle navigated using the thruster jets on the back of the bike.

I quickly realized that he was evading our pursuiers. Far above us, I saw two helicopters circling, looking for something. Us.

The ground grew closer and closer. A mere thirty feet above the cold pavement, Oracle ignited the jets, and we shot into the murky darkness below the busy traffic lanes above.

Here I sit, waiting for Oracle to reappear. He has been gone for well over two hours. My surroundings are dismal. I would be happy to see that rat again. At least he provided a small amount of company for me. The roof drips with some slime I can't even identify. Garbage litters the floor. The windows are boarded so tight that I can't peek out. The only light comes through filtered cracks at the window's edge. I can hear the traffic above.

Harsh whispers reach my ears through the door. I can feel their footsteps vibrating the floor. "He's a Synclad. No. I won't help you. Not again, Oracle. You burned me last time. I still got fifty hundred credits coming my way." The voice paused. "From you. Yeah, from you. Who'd you think they was coming from?"

The door opened, and harsh light bathed the young Synclad in radiance. His brown eyes reflected like copper on a summer day. Dark hair peeked out from beneath a tattered baseball cap. An athletic body filled out his silver and black bodysuit very handsomely.

"This is him?" The stranger's voice laughed. "This is the one hope for our salvation?" Saliva spattered his shirt as he roared in laughter. His dark skin was pockmarked with disease and ravaged with scars. His dirty clothing identified him as a dweller of the lower levels. But apparently he had some measure of influence, for Oracle seemed to be depending on him.

"This is the One. He is the One I have been looking for. He will bring us justice. This I can promise you." Oracle gestured for me to join him in the light.

The dark-skinned man, Jonah, stopped laughing. He regarded the young Synclad coldly, as if examining him from the inside out. "All right. I'll give you another chance ... but if you burn me again ... I'll dismember both of you." Jonah narrowed his eyes. "You got a name, boy?"

I looked in panic to Oracle. For I did not know my own name. Fear gripped my heart. I stuttered, "I ... uh ..."

"His name is D'artaignan." Oracle smiled at me, and I felt pride in that name. D'artaignan.

Jonah snorted. "Dart, huh? Fine. Follow me, Dart." Jonah walked quickly down the dingy corridor and decended a ladder to a cavern below.

The cavern was filled with computers of every variety. From the ancient Pentium processors, to the latest Velocitix 4.0, the machines seemed to fill the room with a constant buzzing. Some computers were in process of rebuilding. Technicians pieced together computers, patching them with fibercarbon ribbons and polysteel mesh.

"Our supercomputer." Jonah lifted his hands proudly. "All of this ... for you. If you live."

My expression must have been amusing, for both Jonah and Oracle laughed.

"Not to worry, young D'artaignan, your existence is destined to bring justice. Full-bloods have reigned supreme far too long. Their time of reckoning is soon at hand. The Creators shall no longer have dominion over the works of their hands." Oracle smiled in barely-contained pride. "And you, my young friend, are the work of MY hands. I have spent thirty years engineering your existence. You are the One. You will bring justice. You will make the Beings equal again."

I don't know how I arrived back at the massive building of my birth. The name blazoned across the front of the skyscraper read "Dauntin Corp.".

With everything riding on the decisions I make in my life, I can only think of one thing - that girl from the upper room. The one that floated unconscious in that tank. She is my destiny. I can feel it.

Behind me, a shadow approaches. I can see that it is Oracle. He's sayings something, but I cannot hear. My hand reaches out toward the smoky glass door. Reflected in the doorway, I see Oracle drawing a weapon - perhaps to bring my demise. If he truly spent thirty years to create me, would he destroy all of that work in a heartbeat of anger?

Then the door is open. As I enter, I look back, and he is gone.

The future hangs on every breath. Every heartbeat.

But only one heart beats for me. Hers.

I must find her.

I must free her.

Only then ... only then can I know. Somehow she holds the key to who I am. And I must know.