Slowly, I wrestle myself free from Morpheu's grasp.

I open my eyes. An unknown ceiling. An unknown room. Where the hell am I?

Then, I get a feeling, like a light poke in the back of my mind. My status had changed again.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Realization hits me, and I perfectly recall all the fucked up shit that happened the day before.

When shit hit the fan, I just rolled with it. My instincts had told me that I shouldn't care about the stuff that didn't make sense, or it wouldn't end well. My instincts had been right.

But now that I am in relative safety and had a night worth of sleep, I don't know how to feel.