When that word bubbled up inside of him for the first time, he didn't think much of it. Like a spark from a fire, it burned for a tiny moment and went dark again. By now, he couldn't even remember that one, only that there had been other moments in time when he encountered it.
The next time it bubbled up within him was when he already knew the others - Riley and Vaex. When they had already grown close. The moment he'd remember until the end of his existence was when Riley tried to get to Marston, and he kept him from doing so, pulling him into an alley. The moment when Riley broke free and, just for a moment, it looked like he might kill him.. that's when this word bubbled up inside of him again, throwing him off. All that kept him level-headed was his war experience, and focusing on his friend. Getting Riley through this, keeping him safe. So, when Vaex arrived, that was all he was thinking of - keeping Riley safe, even if that'd cost him his life. While this word churned inside of him, like something important he wasn't able to grasp, or understand.
After that, it happened more often. At first, he thought it had something to do with his forgotten memories, as if some of those were trying to come into focus without really managing. With the things they found out - him having a soul, Niervaner having built warforged for their war and later used them to hold their souls, this seemed to make sense. Not really, though, did it? It had begun before all of this, and it felt different.
And then, when Brass Knuckles died and they broke Iron Sights out of jail, there it was, swirling around inside him. Relentless. Through all the pain and anguish, through the efficient dissociation needed for war, this one word was there. Growing stronger, somehow. Retreating to his art didn't help much, either - over and over again, he drew his own ghulra and this one word was repeating in his mind, over and over again. Growing louder. As if, through sitting with his pain and conflicting emotions, something within him had broken free. Something that has always been there, just beneath the surface. A place he couldn't reach, not with his mind. Nonetheless, a place that held his self, everything he was - the parts he remembered and those he didn't.
In the end, finally, he understood.
It wasn't just a word. And it wasn't just about the things they discovered, either.
Nor wasn't it just about himself.
It was his name.
And it carried a Truth about his true self.
While also being a reminder of where they came from - he, and his fellow warforged.
It was a reclaiming of what's always been his, theirs, but taken from them for so long. A symbol. A reminder. A standard.
Soul.
It was him. And at the same time, so much more than that.
The same way he has always been more than just the person he knew and remembered. The same warforged have always been more than they believed.
And still, even with all this, it's still inherently his. His name.
Soul.
For all to see. For all to remember. Hope. Defiance. Pride.
Soul.
For those deprived to rally under. To hope. To fight for. To see themselves.
For those denying them a warning. A challenge.
Soul.
To be true to himself, for himself and everyone else. To show them that it's possible. That it's their right.
To show himself that he's more than his lost memories.
A reminder of connection.
Soul.
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