Memory Emporium
He flexed the hands of his new body, studying the movements. The feeling was as foreign as it was familiar, it belonged to him and yet it didn't. Something else was different too. Missing. There was something lurking in him, just below the surface, but it wasn't his. It shared some of the perks, he thought, but it was ill-suited to him. Much like the rest of this body, bulkier than he remembered being. The distaste was obvious, if it didn't quite fit the face he was wearing, and his expression darkened.
Not. Impressed.
And as if it hadn't been enough to take what was his, they'd given him a body with no respect for itself. He couldn't have chosen a decent suit for the occasion?
Possible explanations played themselves through in his mind as he navigated among the other shoppers, seemingly oblivious to his predicament or perhaps his presence altogether. His dreams were intimately familiar to him and rarely did they vary. So while it might have been the logical conclusion in any other case, it seemed unlikely in this one. Besides, he almost never slept. The question of how he came to be dreaming would raise too many questions in itself.
There were stores in this mall that didn't fit their surroundings any more than he fit into this skin. Not one of them spoke to his needs. He didn't have time to waste on fleeting emotions and pretend lives. His mind was too valuable a resource to alter.
Nevertheless, he could appreciate the desire many had to forget. And he could appreciate those who had found a way to profit off of it. With a mind toward studying their methods, he entered the shop marked Memory Emporium, eyes skimming over the neatly labeled items they had in stock.
"Fascinating, isn't it?" he commented to the woman beside him.