The steady hiss and beep of machinery attached to a specialized medical capsule was all the sound there was in an isolated bay of Krung Thep.

A young boy -- perhaps no older than sixteen -- slumbered in the capsule, breaths minute, dark circles under his eyes. If one were to look closely, his lids as were his fingers were twitchy; and his lips, covered by a breathing mask, moved slightly.

Only those with Quantum Brainwaves could perhaps hear the weak whispers -- a name and something else -- repeated like a mantra.

Setsuna... I'm sorry... Setsuna... I'm sorry...