Opening my eyes, a brief moment of confusion washed over me. Oh, right. I am inside a closet. Shouldn't have fallen asleep here.

Focusing on my hearing, to make sure no one was nearby, I, very delicately, opened a small gap in the doors. As I peeked outside, the upside-down room lay bare before my eyes: broken bed, broken door, splinters everywhere...

So, good news: I was alive! Bad news: This wasn't a dream and I really was stuck in the middle of nowhere, fearing for my life. Unlucky.

Steeling my resolve, I carefully opened the doors all the way and exited the moldy wardrobe. It was morning, and a sunray shone through one of the cracks in the ceiling, bringing light to the room.

"Man, really wish I had shoes" I muttered. Oh shit. Quickly covering my mouth, I stopped speaking. Those things had crazy good hearing, I shouldn't forget that. Walking cautiously, I left the bedroom and went out in the hallway. Actually, thinking about it, it might be for the best that I only had socks — much quieter this way. Testing the floor before each step, I cleared the entire house, corner by corner. I needed to be certain there were no threats left inside.

**********

After what felt like an hour, I finally confirmed the house was empty and felt safe enough to focus on other things. Like my thirst, for example. I hadn't drunk anything since... forever. My mouth was completely dry, and even my throat hurt. The rest of my body wasn't doing so well, either: I had a pulsing headache, probably from dehydration and continuous stress, and my feet and thighs were killing me. I wasn't unathletic, but the exercise I had been through yesterday wasn't one my body was used to doing.

I already had a layout of this place on my mind. Right now, this was the living room, the same room I entered through a hole in the wall yesterday. To my right was the hallway with two bedrooms, both very similar. To my left was a door that connected directly to a kitchen and a smaller room, probably a storage. There was also a dining room and a place I suspected was a bathroom. The house was large, but not as grand or luxurious as the mansion from before.

Searching for the kitchen in the hopes of finding something to eat, I was met only with an empty and partially destroyed room. To my happiness, there was a small storage room, still inside the destroyed kitchen, that remained almost untouched. It had two barrels and a shelf full of unrecognizable spices and pots. Next to the barrels though, was a wooden cabinet. Opening it, I suppressed a shout of joy. It had a huge wheel of cheese and six bottles of something. Taking one, I duly noticed it had a cork in it. Damnit... it's wine. Placing it back dejectedly, I turned to the cheese.

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"Urgh, why is this thing so heavy?" I muttered under my breath.

Lifting the entire wheel of cheese was much harder than I thought it would be, but after some effort, I managed to put it on top of the cabinet. After shaving off part of the outer layer with the knife, I cut a piece and took a bite. Hm, pretty good. Hunger was the best spice after all.

Setting the cheese aside for a moment, I knocked on the wooden barrels under the shelf. They were full of liquid. A small seed of hope bloomed inside me. Opening them, however, my expectations were swiftly crushed: the "water" reeked of wheat. Beer, I thought. Useless to me; I was not drinking alcohol in a survival situation.

After curbing my disappointment, I went back to eating the cheese. I wasn't an expert, but after the twentieth slice or so, it started tasting a bit bland. Or maybe I was being too demanding: not even chocolate was immune to the law of decreasing marginal utility, I guess.

Now, for the thirst problem. If I couldn't find any water here... should I go back to the manor? Considering the clear sky, I didn't think it was going to rain soon. Maybe a river nearby? I don't know. I don't want to go back. Urgh, I should've thought about supplies.

Done with the cheese, I opened the pots — the only thing I recognized was salt — and finished exploring the kitchen before going back to the wrecked living room. Looking around, I found that most of everything was broken. Not seeing any reason to suppress my curiosity, I went to take a look at some framed pictures on the floor. All decorative artwork, however — no black-haired old man this time. Avoiding some mirror shards that littered the ground, I began searching the cabinets and drawers for anything useful. They were all basically empty, with only some trinkets here and there. This place looked like it had been ransacked, I thought.

I went to the other bedroom of the house. The only difference between this room and the other one was a single dark desk, similar to the one on the second floor of the manor. Interestingly enough, the first drawer on this one was locked. After testing the keys I had brought with me — and getting disappointed that none of them worked — I stuck my knife in the gap and applied a modicum of force. A low 'click' resounded. I had closed the door beforehand, so I allowed myself some degree of noise. Curious, I glanced inside the compartment.

The drawer was full of documents; reports, but less detailed than the ones on the manor. It seemed that whoever lived here wasn't entitled to the same level of information as Mr. M.A. was. The end of the logistics report read:

Shipment no. 23 arrived on the specified date. The 22nd batch has been sent, no delays. 02 operating on normal capacity levels, no spikes detected since the last incident.

The team would like to reiterate the necessity of more Trillium-based implements. Two requests (#038 and #039) have already been filed and...

At the bottom of the pile, hidden under everything else, was a slightly different, smaller note:

I agree J, something is going on. Why would they have us operate under different conditions? As far as I know, only 01 has the Trillium and the inhibitors needed. Either the budget does not allow for it or they are under a different jurisdiction than us.

I've already instructed the team to head for 01 in case of a code black. I suggest you do the same. All the doors there are made of Trillium, and the containment is far better than what we have here. I confirmed it myself the last time I was there.

Sincerely,

M.N.

.

.

.

Crap, I thought.

This place was 02.