Author's second note: This is more graphical in nature than my other universe of fanfics.. So uhm.. If you're seriously depressed, don't read this, okay? ^^;; The beginning POV is pretty sad. Although I'll have to state that it's done from a third-person perspective.

All he knew was pain. He had forgotten love, forgotten warmth, forgotten happiness, and forgotten what it was like to not be hungry. All he remembered now was hatred, cruelty, terror, and pain. Family was a thing of the past, love was a thing of the past, hope was a thing of the past. There was no reason for him to continue to live, but he kept living. Living almost without a soul.

The only things that escaped his throat anymore were screams and cries of terror and pain. How one so young could hold so many tears that flowed down his cheeks, was beyond explanation. It was the only thing about his life he had control of anymore. He could cry. They couldn't take that away from him. They had already taken everything else. At least he had his tears.

He had forgotten what it felt like to have ice under one's blades, or what it was like to laugh. He could barely remember the faces of his family, and his memories of them became more and more dim with each passing day. Soon, he would lose them completely. He would forget that they even existed. After all, they were already dead, and he had nothing of theirs in his possession. What would remind the child of them?

Each day was the same as the last, full of pain and anguish. Never did a day stray from what it had in common with the day before. All that changed was that the days got increasingly worse. He gave up begging after the first few months, as it yielded only harsher torture. The boy stopped fighting against their will and started doing as he was told, trying to keep them pleased. But it was never enough. They wanted more. And they took more away from him.

He stopped caring about himself with time, as well. The pain became less and less agonizing, as he grew used to it. A child grew use to pain. His main concern before the invasion was learning how to read and write better, and learning math. But those were things of the past, as well.

The boy was a child without a future. As of now, it seemed he would only have another few years before his life-candle was snuffed out forever. A child with so much promise now without a chance to become what he could have been. He would become yet another casualty of war.

Nameless children aren't remembered, unlike the countless heroes of wars. He would die, and be forever forgotten. His story would die with him. The whole of Puckworld would fail to acknowledge that he had even existed. For him, there would be no memorial. There would be no plaque. He would not even have a grave.

Even as he thought he had no hope left, he retained a small light in his heart. Dragaunus was gone from Puckworld, although the Mask and the heroes that defeated him had died with him. The Resistance was starting to gain the upper hand. Soon, the couple that held him captive would be forced to flee their base.

But he did not hope that the Resistance would free him from his slavery. No, that was too much to hope for. He didn't even begin to hope for something so beautiful and elusive as freedom. He hoped for an end to it all, the stopping of his painful existence. He hoped for death. A child, not even of six human years, hoped for death.

Another casualty of war. An innocent life, barely started, already hoping for an end to his existence. A child that would be forgotten and thrown aside to rot after his death. They would never be able to save him. He would die in great pain, and they could do nothing. They would not even know he existed.

With his death, he would once again know happiness, according to what his parents had told him about the next world beyond theirs. He'd see their faces once more and be washed clean of his sufferings. If only he could still believe their words. But it was the only hope he had left, now. It had to be true, it just had to be!

Children were not meant to be in such pain and agony. They were meant to be healthy and loved. But through the workings of the universe, through horrible fates and horrible people, children weren't always healthy and loved. He, before the invasion, was one of the lucky. Now, he was one of the damned. Another casualty of war.

He wished he could die and never have to suffer anymore. Maybe fade from existence entirely. It would be easier than living. Hadn't he been through enough suffering? Why couldn't it just end? Why did it never stop? His was only a child!

But he could not kill himself whenever presented with an opportunity. He was too afraid, too scared that they might stop him and punish him all the more. There would never be a chance of death presented to him again. They would keep him forever, on the verge of collapse, so they could amuse themselves with his misery.

He never thought he would live to see the light again. He never thought he would learn how to smile or laugh once more. He never thought he would be free from their evil. He never hoped that he'd be that lucky.

He believed wrong.

He was another casualty of war. But he would be a survivor. That is, if the Mighty Ducks had anything to say about it.

***

Another fitful sleep of nightmares came to an end as he awoke with a shout, pushing his chest halfway off of the hard floor even though his body screamed at the movement. Pain shot throughout his body, but he ignored it, freezing in place on his stomach as he listened intently. He thought he had heard footsteps . . . .

He looked around the room he was lying in and sighed softly. This wasn't his usual cell, which meant he must have passed out last night while they . . . He shivered and blanked out at the thought.

His mind was returned to the present as he heard another footfall from outside the room, followed by another and then another. Coming towards him. They were going to hurt him again!

The child knew it was a bad idea to make trouble, but something inside of him brought forth the instinct to hide within him and he scrambled up as he body continued to cry out in pain at him. He peeped in distress and looked around quickly, before deciding to hide under a nearby bench. Shivers ran through his body as the footsteps drew nearer.

He was a defenseless young duckling against two full-grown Saurians. And it was only a matter of time before they found him. They would punish him harder, he knew, but the time it took them to find him was worth it. If only they could never find him, he could die of starvation and escape this wretched life . . . .

A bellow of rage assaulted his ears when his male captor came into the room and noticed that he was not where he had been left. "Where are you, you little bastard child?!"

No answer; the Saurian roared louder. "Get out where I can see you or I'll hurt you worse when I find you!"

The child peeped again unconsciously and the Saurian's eyes narrowed as he found the source of the noise. Knowing that his farce was up, the boy pressed further into his hiding place, until his back could not go up against the wall any farther. But still he tried to back away, even though he consciously knew that he could not pass through the wall and that it would always be a solid barrier. He started to hiccup and peep alternatively, too scared to scream.

Throwing the bench out of the way, the Saurian reached down for the boy, growling as smoke vented from his nostrils. The boy would pay for his insolence! He'd make sure of it.

Letting out a shout, the boy scrambled between the Saurian's legs and dashed for the door, only to skid to a halt as the Saurian's mate entered. He looked around desperately for anything he could use to protect himself as the male turned around and both Saurians began to approach him. The child peeped once more and ran toward one of the shelves, seeing objects he could throw. That is, if he had any strength left in his arms at all.

The Saurians stopped and smirked at his desperate gamble, knowing that the child could not possibly throw the items on the shelf more than a couple of feet, and none of them were breakable. Anything he tried would be in vain. And when his strength was exhausted, it would be a simple task to catch him and pin him to the ground before they began his punishment.

But they forgot about one tiny object on the shelf. One tiny little object that would change the boy's future. It was of a pair of identical devices, one made for each Saurian. They were not meant for the child to get his hands on. And only to be used in an emergency where all was hopeless. But his fate was sealed when his hand wrapped around one of the two small objects and he picked up off the shelf, drawing his arm back to throw it at the Saurians in front of him. The Saurians could only stare as he activated the device, accidentally pushing down its only button with his thumb.

And then, his world was turned upside down. The object began to tug at him, trying to pull him somewhere and he let out a cry of shock and terror. He tried to drop it, but his hand was stuck to it, and he couldn't pull it loose. And for a second, he couldn't even move as he feet began to leave the ground. He tried to scream, but the sound was ripped from his throat before he even uttered it, fear clutching his cry within him, although he struggled like never before against the unseen force.

Something was happening to him . . . What was going on?! He let out a dry sob, before he began to hiccup and peep in fear. Was this how it was like to die? He was going to die, he was sure of it!

The child had thought he was ready to die, but now that he felt his life was truly threatened, he suddenly repulsed the idea entirely. He wanted to live! Live! This couldn't be happening!

Suddenly, a miniature wormhole opened up in front of him, swirling with a thousand dazzling colors. A dimensional gateway. He wasn't going to die, he was going to be teleported to another dimension!

His struggles redoubled against the pull, but he kept on floating closer and closer to it, drawn by it's irresistible force of attraction. He let out a scream, but the wormhole carried it away as he was sucked through, closing behind him.

The Saurians could do nothing to stop the dimensional gateway, nor could they follow him and get the boy back to punish him. The way it had been designed prevented that. It was one-way only. And as leaders of the last Saurian outpost on Puckworld, neither would not abandon it only to be executed by the last remaining Saurian Overlord as a traitor.

***

There was barely time to scream as he was catapulted through the other side of the dimensional gateway. He slammed into the pavement a few feet below, lying there in shock. He wasn't dead, he was someplace else! Away from the Saurians... He was free!

Free!

He tried to sit up, but couldn't move and he was quickly awashed with fear. He was defenseless, and there were creatures gathering around him that he didn't recognize! And it was too warm! He was on another planet, and they might do anything to him.

But why couldn't he move?

A sick wetness began to spread through his hair, and he froze in shock. He recognized the feel of it, the scent of it, the temperature of it. Blood. His own blood. He had hid his head when he fell through the portal.

Everything began to suddenly grow black around the edge and it crept further into his vision. He struggled against the darkness, feeling it sap away his thoughts and the feeling of the ground underneath him, even though he knew it was still there. The only thing he could do was quietly peep in distress, an automatic response to fear in ducklings his age, one that he could not control.

He sensed one of the strange creatures kneel down near him, and screamed as the being touched his back. The hand was withdrawn, although the person began to speak. Despite how hard the boy tried to listen to him, the creature's voice sounded only like a faint buzzing and he was unable to understand what it was trying to say.

Unable to keep conscious for any longer, he let out a shuddering sigh, his eyes closing as he fell into blissful unconsciousness.

***

The human that had kneeled by him was, by luck or by fate, Captain Klegghorn. Only a few weeks earlier, the Ducks had decided to give him communicators in case of an emergency. And a little Puckworlder bleeding silently on the pavement definitely constituted an emergency. He got it out of a pocket, hitting a button.

Wildwing's face appeared on screen a second before the mask shifted to show his confusion. "Klegghorn?"

"I found something that might interest you," the captain of the police force explained, then continued. "I saw a kid of your species just fall from a portal and land on the pavement. He's pretty banged up, so you should get your medic out here."

"What? A kid?" Wildwing froze in shock, then worry quickly high-lighted his features, even through the mask. "How bad?"

"Bad enough that I'm gonna need to bandage his head up and I need to do it right now," Klegghorn replied. "Just track my signal. Klegghorn out."

He shut off the comm before Wildwing could reply and looked to the boy. Regardless of the fact that he didn't know about first aid for Puckworlders, he knew that if he didn't bandage the boy's head, the boy would probably die. Either way, he didn't have much of a choice. Sighing, he shook his head and got to work.

***

Tanya blinked as Wildwing walked into the main room lab, glancing up from her work on Drake One. She was updating some software for the scanners that kept a tab on various odd occurrences outside of the Pond, which meant the software wasn't operational at that moment. Seeing that he was deeply disturbed by something, she gave him a questioning glance as she stood up. What was he so upset about?

"Klegghorn just called me about another Puckworlder on Earth," Wildwing replied to her glance and confusion spread across her face.

"Another Puckworlder?" Tanya asked and Wildwing nodded quickly.

"A child, to be exact. One very hurt child that needs medical attention." Wildwing stated, sighing softly. "We'll take the Migrator . . . It shouldn't take more than the two of us. We don't have time to gather up the others."

-Is he that hurt?- Tanya thought with concern, nodding quickly in agreement. "If he's extremely injured, then we shouldn't waste any time. The Migrator has any supplies we'll need."

Wildwing nodded back in thanks and took off at a run towards the Migrator without another word. Tanya watched him for a few seconds, then stood up, dusted herself off, and followed, worry evident on her face. The poor child . . . Coming to Earth all alone and injured, no less.

As Tanya ran behind Wildwing, she began to wonder more and more about the child, worrying more about him as the seconds went by. If he was hurt badly, then anything could have happened to him on Puckworld. And he could suffer from severe emotional trauma because of it, without the help of his family to assist in his recovery. In the end, it was going to be up to them.

They had to take in the child; they could not leave him with humans. They would not leave him with humans. After all, he was one of their own. A child that needed love and affection immediately, not fear that comes with the unknown.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Wildwing started up the Migrator. She sighed, worry shining in her eyes as she looked to Wildwing.

"We can only hope that the boy will be able to survive going through all this," Tanya whispered quietly. "After all he's probably been through . . . "

Wildwing nodded, not taking his eyes off the road. "Don't worry, Tanya. We'll take care of him. He won't be alone."

"I just hope you're right," Tanya replied after a few moments' silence.

-Me too.- Wildwing replied mentally.

***

A few minutes later Wildwing and Tanya arrived at the location Klegghorn had indicated, parking the Migrator a few feet away from the crowd of spectators that had gathered. Tanya hurried out and waded through the crowd while Wildwing walked a little ways behind her. Wildwing was unable to see pass the crowd when Tanya suddenly screamed.

"Tanya, what is it?!" Wildwing shouted, shoving through the rest of the crowd in a hurry. When he saw what had made Tanya scream, he froze in shock, his voice dropping to a whisper. "By the stars . . ."

In Tanya's arms was a young Puckworlder with a bandaged head. Klegghorn had been telling the truth about the injured head, but 'pretty banged up' did not even come close to the extent of the boy's other injuries. Every part of child's body that Wildwing could see, his head, legs, arms, and neck, were covered with nasty cuts and bruises, with some of the cuts recently reopened, even infected. The boy's shirt was stuck to his chest with tiny parallel streaks of his own blood.

And the child was dangerously thin to the point that he looked as if he hadn't had enough food for months on end, which made him seem even tinier in the oversized shirt he was wearing for clothing. His pale light blonde hair, which was nearly white, had grown to just above his shoulders with negligence, contrasting sharply against the dark bruises and cuts that showed through his pink-tinted feathers. Pink feathers?

"His feathers!" Wildwing looked to Tanya, worry in his eyes that the Mask could not cover up. "That's not how they're supposed to look, is it?"

Tanya shook her head, closing her eyes as she shuddered. "They're supposed to be an off yellow . . . But he's been malnourished for so long that his body can no longer waste the energy to make the proper pigment for them . . . That happens when a child is only fed a few times in a week. They must have starved him . . . "

"Can we help him?" Wildwing's voice again dropped, this time to a gentler whisper. "I mean, isn't there anything we can do?"

She sighed, looking to the boy as she tried to blink back her tears. "We need to get him on life support immediately and clean his wounds . . . So many of them are infected to the point that they could kill him. And his breath is so shallow, it could be too late-"

"-No! It's not too late! We have to at least try and save him, if at all possible!" Wildwing replied quickly, gently reaching to stroke the boy's hair. "He's so young . . . He can't die yet!"

"Wildwing, so many children died from not as dire of situations that he barely has a chance . . . " She shook her head quickly. "Y-You're right, t-though. We have to try. A-And hope."

"Maybe I should have an ambula-" Klegghorn started to suggest, but Tanya shook her head quickly once more as she cut him off.

"NO!" She cried, looking to him in horror before she winced and looked down at the boy, barely mumbling loud enough for either Wildwing or Klegghorn to hear her. "O-Our bodies are different f-from humans. If you t-took care of him, he would have . . . have no chance to survive. He'd d-die!"

The boy let out a small dry sob of terror, and Tanya immediately pulled the boy closer to her, whispering softly to him as Klegghorn let out a long sigh. "If you feel it's for the best . . . . "

"It is," Wildwing replied when Tanya didn't. "Our technology is much more advanced than anything Earth has, and our bodies' needs differ enough from humans that even your best doctors couldn't save him."

Klegghorn nodded, standing up and beginning to make the crowd move away from him and the ducks, to give them room to leave. "I won't keep you two, then."

Tanya clutched the boy close as she stood, careful to make sure that he was comfortable and that she was not hurting him. She shielded him from the sight of the humans as the walked through the crowd, staying close to Wildwing's back in an effort to keep him further hidden. He had already been through so much, he didn't need to be gawked at as well.

"You know he'll have tons of emotional damage as well, right, Wildwing?" Tanya spoke again when they were nearly to the Migrator. "He'll need everyone to be there for him every step of the way."

"We'll be there for him, Tanya," Wildwing reassured her, helping her get to the Migrator's ramp through the remainder of the crowd. "Don't worry."

Tanya swallowed and began nervously, "But-"

"-No buts. The others will want to help him through this. Have hope and give him a chance."

-Please don't die on us, please!- Tanya mentally begged the unconscious child in her arms, not daring to whisper anymore of her fears outloud as the Migrator's door closed behind them. -You have to live! You just have to!-

*End of Chapter One*