Unending darkness surrounds us.

What is this place? More importantly, who am I? Sick. Anxious. Lost.

Light. Suddenly, reality floods my consciousness as we are regurgitated like bile, seemingly from the very cosmos itself. Birth.

The floor is damp and cold. The... thing... from which we emerged still shimmers before us; it’s mesmerizing. Crawling forward, I pull myself up onto my knees and look around, trying to orientate myself. A note on the floor catches my eye. At first glance, it contains naught but meaningless etchings.

I have no memory.

The more I focus, the clearer the etchings become. They’re words. The writing looks all too familiar, but I can’t place it. I read the words aloud.

“You know this place. I’ve been here a while. Waiting. For as long as you can remember, anyway. Remember...”

The last spoken word echoes throughout the chamber as the note crumbles in my hands.