Today is a day, like and unlike so many before it. And with it comes the sun, a gently glowing disk of yellow light peering over the horrizon. But as usual this is not a concern of the sleeping figure, curled up into a tight ball at the centre of his bed. For him this day will be more important than any other. Today is the day he plays a game. But it will be a long time before the disks will grace the inside of his computer. So for now he sleeps, the light that filters through his window growing ever stronger. The room is smaller than would be expected and somewhat plain, the walls covered only in a layer of glossed red paint. Furniture of varying sizes are scattered around the room, a simple desk and wardrobe pushed up against the wall in a desperate bid to save space; baskets and bins lying aimlessly, their purpose long neglected; scattered shelves straining under the weight of paper tomes. The air itself seems almost expectant, as if it can see the whispers of what's to come. But still he sleeps, slender athletic limbs clasping the pillow to his chest. Dark blonde hair cascading around his slumbering face, wispy strands splaying in all directions. And we must wait. Wait for those pale green eyes to slowly creep open. But before he struggles awake, this boy must be given a name. Because it is only from now that what happens will matter.