There was a lot to mull over. DoomRater felt like he had lived so many lives at this point... a secret agent, a warrior... a pawn for a growing military force. Now that he knew he had been used, it felt like he couldn't trust his own memories anymore. Moreso, he couldn't trust his military service anymore. He looked back at his record, and retiring seemed like the only smart move. After all, how many people still have their own personal think tank to retreat to?
Climbing up to the middle post of Kokiri Village, he checked the top of the post. Heh, Charles' artillery cannon... it was still there, ready and rigged up to unleash hell should something enter the forest. He wondered if the chessmaster knew about it... then remembered they were likely still bugging the entirety of Hyrule.
A familiar Red figure entered his senses. He'd know that girl anywhere. It was as if she was familiar, yet an inconsistent puzzle at the same time. How much was she really worth to him, though? Did he try to get her just because Saria wouldn't take him? Or was there something in her that he didn't see yet? He couldn't remember...
Heh, figures that things would be going so well for Saria. She got exactly what she wanted... she got her Link. Even if he was an amnesiac and un-potty trained. Really, it was a mystery to him why he ever thought he could get that close to her. Link loved and was loyal, Link held bravely to his goals and accomplished them easily, Link touched the lives of so many people... he had accomplished so much in his life. DoomRater, on the other hand... who was he? Born under a foreign name, given the identity Brache Spyker by his 'captors', forced into mutatory bioarmor, the same as all he's ever seen, forced to master all its unique aspects...
He thought about the process of the mutatory bioarmor. No one really ever reacted the same way to it... some went mad and were put down. Others were maddened and then their minds were altered, often with false memories, to keep them in line. How he wishes they had put him down... but they couldn't. They tried so hard to put him down... so much weapon fire... it was a miracle he felt any pain anymore.
Assigned to a spec-ops team, the Six Man Army, after a long period of retraining and memory alterations, he was led to believe he was a second in command of sorts. The only one above him in this arrangement was Chief. But... in reality? They took orders from Overlord. The call sign was the only thing familiar to him... there was no signature to go along with the name. He cursed the fact everyone knew about his ability, keeping him from being able to investigate further.
Back then, it was so simple. The signatures could easily tell two people put together, who they were beforehand, and even identify clones or differences in alternate realities. It seemed even cloaking and shapeshifting could not hide them from him. But... clones were slowly giving him headaches. Their signatures were too close together, throwing him off. After about five minutes it would pass though.
What had happened to his senses then? That's right... more experimentation. There was nothing quite like enhancing his ability to tell the difference between clones, but at the cost of having to relearn the whole technique. On the flip side, it was indeed telling him how to read emotions better... why couldn't he just see that Red was an emotional turmoil?
Wait, Red was here? He'd completely forgotten. And now, there was a wolf inside the village. It seemed to be following her.