"Neon..." The boy tossed and turned in his sleep, lazily kicking the bedsheets.

"Neon..." He rolled away from the voice and shielded himself with a pillow. The sunlight drifting in through the vacant window streamed through his white hair, or at least what small tuft was left vulnerable. The monastery was, for the moment, quiet, and only the lightly whistling wind could be heard.

"Neon, time to get up." A hand grabbed the sheets, and pulled, rolling Neon out of bed and landing with a solid thump against the hard wood floor.

"That wasn't funny, Charles." Nevertheless, Neon was still grinning. Charles extended a hand to Neon to hlep him up, grinning as well. As Neon attempted to grab it- snap-he fell back, and the hand fell back with him, separated from its rotting owner.

"Oh dear, not again." Charles took the hand back, and began examining it. "You go on and run downstairs, they're all waiting for you. Make sure you get dressed." Neon nodded, and walked out of the bedroom. Charles spent a few minutes watching him, then got back to the task of reattaching his hand. After several unsuccessful attempts of bashing the two together, he walked out of the bedroom as well, searching for the glue gun.

Neon walked down another one of the hallways, running his fingers along the stone walls. He pulled his hand away long enough to put on his ceremonial outfit, tightening all of the leather straps around his waist and straightening the collar on the trenchcoat. As a final touch, he put on the thin black sunglasses he was to wear for special occasions. And this was quite a special occasion, indeed.

Charles, now with both hands secured, joined the other monks at the meeting hall. Already the place was packed, with everyone in thier best purple robes, chatting, drinking, and preparing themselves for the moment that was to come. One of the monks came over to Charles, and pulled him aside.

"Is he ready yet?"

"Of course he is, calm down."

"It's just... this is it."

"Yes, yes, yes, I know." Charles leaned over to the refreshment table and grabbed a biscuit.

"But... We can't take any risks. I mean, this is it. This is it. This is it. This is it!" The monk was hysterical now, threatening to rip off Charles' sleeve if he held it any tighter. Charles licked his faded-green hands for crumbs, then stared calmly at the monk.

"... Are you finished?"

"Quite."

"Wonderful. Oh, if you'll excuse me." Charles finally broke free from the monk's grip and strolled over to the center of the hall. The monastery had never been known well for its taste in decorations, and today was no exception. The three blue balloons that were strung over the door hung limply, as if already worn out from the festivities. A large scroll had been nailed to either side of the door as well, and written in thick black ink were the words

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND CON-GRADULATIONS, NEON!

Charles smiled as he took in the scene. This was it. Today was the day the prophecy was to come true. Today, Neon was to save the world.