The oppressive, all-encompassing void solidified to merely pitched darkness as, slowly, my senses came back to me. I was lying flat on my back on top of a barely cushioned surface. Meaning to sit up in the darkness, I set my hands out beside me, only to feel the wall uncomfortably close on either side. Instantly, claustrophobia set in, and I moved to sit up–only for my head to bounce painfully off a hard surface less than a foot from my nose, eliciting a groan in pain and rising panic. A whimper managed to escape as my mind raced, and I suddenly felt very constricted. I kicked my feet up and down, only to feel more walls all around me. Desperate for freedom, I raised my hands to my head and planted them on the wall.

"Help…” I whispered meekly to no one and anyone; all the while, my breath grew ragged and more desperate. It dawned on me in that moment that I was trapped, and then, quietly to myself, I started to cry…

I threw myself around like a child. Slamming my arms and legs against my confines. Head whipping about fruitlessly. He'd tricked me, and I knew it.

This would be my life––my afterlife.

In a panic, I set my hands on the space above my head and pushed with all my might; instead of another hard surface beneath me, however, I met no resistance and felt only air…

As it turned out, I was not as trapped as I thought and had pushed myself an arm’s length downward, dangling my feet over an open space…

I froze my panicked convulsions in an instant as my feet hung unsupported in the air. I listened for noise as I quieted my breath. There was a steady, low droll that seemed to come from every direction. Not so loud that it would've sounded through my earlier panic, but now that I was listening for it–it was impossible to ignore.

As was the soft breeze blowing past my face…I pawed in the darkness near my right ear and found a small vent recessed into the wall. How hadn't I noticed that earlier… I thought, my heart rate falling back toward normal. Feeling the need to be precisely anywhere else at that particular moment, I shimmied my way further down the rectangular tube, knowing full well that I could've been a foot off the ground, or a thousand. Nervously, I inched forward until I felt the ground...through layers of material that I certainly wasn’t wearing just moments ago. I continued slowly sliding forward on my rear end until my feet rested flat on the floor. Only then did I let myself fully exhale.

After having calmed down, I extracted myself from the body-shaped shelf and stood up to find myself in a small room with a dim, blue, useless light. I turned to face what had been my prison. I found it was just a rectangular cutaway in the wall. One of the many identically shaped cubbies spaced equally in three rows along the wall. I couldn't be sure exactly how many there were in the darkness, but the room seemed to be much longer than it was wide. Looking around, many of the cubicles were dark, as mine had been.

Each had a small fabric curtain affixed on a rail and pinned open at the entrance. Other darkened cubicles had their curtains pulled closed. There was a soft yellow glow peaking around the curtain of one. A shadow rolled over from within, and I, my cheeks burning, decided it was time to leave.

A small glowing sign hung from the wall on the opposite side of the room from where I stood. "Exit" it said in big block letters. I was surprised it was English. Or at least my mind interpreted it as such. I tip-toed toward the sign, not actually able to see any door in the darkness. But, as soon as I crept close enough, a small panel illuminated on the wall, having evidently sensed my presence.

There were no words on the screen but a symbol–a small box with only three sides and an arrow pointing toward the right. The child of technology I was, instinctively, I tapped the screen. A crack appeared in the wall with a hiss. Then, a section of the partition slid into itself, disappearing into an apparent pocket in the wall and exposing me to a well-lit room.

Like the inside of a ship, the walls and low-hanging ceiling were constructed entirely of metal, finished with a thick layer of gray lacquer over any exposed surface. The floor was carpeted by some cheap synthetic fiber that looked rough and scratchy to the touch. Bathed in light and able to see clearly, I looked over myself for the first time. My sleep clothes–those I had died in–were gone. In their place was a sturdy-looking gray coverall made of a durable feeling fabric that I couldn't place. It was both thick but breathable and slightly abrasive to the touch while also being much lighter than such material had any right to be.

There were four pockets sewn into the suit, one on either hip and two on either side of the chest. Each being secured by a zipper. Likewise, an extra thick layer of fabric traced a line from my neck to my navel, covering what I presumed to be more zipper. A black buckled belt was sinched snuggly around my waist, giving shape to an otherwise formless garment. Black work boots had also materialized on my feet, the thick soles of which provided me some additional height.

“In or out…” a gruff voice bemoaned from one of the darkened spaces behind me. I wheeled about to, thankfully, see no one and––to realize my mistake. The once-dark space was now bathed in harsh white light. I could see now that the walls were painted a different, darker gray than the space beyond the door. And the room was much longer than I had earlier anticipated. Sorry… I mouthed, fully aware no one would hear me, and quickly stepped out of the room, the door sliding closed behind me.

I now stood fully in this second, illuminated room that felt and looked like an empty hotel check-in desk. Instead of an employee, however, there was a kiosk set against a wall. A logo I didn’t recognize floated freely around the screen's dimmed surface. There were two additional doors, both identical to the one I had exited from, which I ignored and shuffled to the kiosk. Curiously, I tapped on the screen, the logo disappeared, and I was met by a menu.

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“Space available.” The new page said at the top. Beneath that, there was a grid of squares. Some had a black shadow over them, others green, and some blinked red softly. I didn’t know what I was looking at, so I decided not to touch the thing–right as there was a sliding sound from behind me, followed by a rush of air…and the roar of human habitation.

…

“Excuse me–” The woman said, stepping around me without a glance and approaching the kiosk.

“Oh… sure…” I said nervously, stepping aside to give the stranger a wide birth. She seemed normal enough, her demeanor no different than any other stranger I'd bumped shoulders with. Though maybe her skin was slightly paler than I would’ve expected. It certainly contrasted my own starkly. The clothes she wore were not entirely unfamiliar to me, but there was a style to them, a culture, that I couldn’t place.

She appraised the illuminated screen momentarily before tapping a selection. As I looked on, the grid of squares disappeared, replaced by a new one that, from my best estimation, was requesting payment. The woman held her forearm to the screen, and it chimed. She wheeled on her heels, approached the door I had paid no mind to, activated it, and disappeared inside. I shrugged and turned toward what had actually gotten my attention. Where had she come from? What was that noise...Still unsure of myself, I took short, nervous steps towards the exit and jumped in surprise as the door–unlike the previous one–slid open automatically–and I was first exposed to Inauris.

…

People of all colors and ages crisscrossed before me, some together, some alone. Each going on about their business, only aware enough of one another as to avoid colliding. From what I could tell, the door had opened to a busy footpath made of the same gray metal as the previous room. Where there was once carpet, however, was now a sturdy-looking floor of square textured tiles. There was a fleeting glance or two, I noticed, as I stood rooted in place and gaped. But no one cared enough to question me.

It was like an indoor mall, the entire floor forming one big loop with an open-air center. I actually felt unsteady taking those first few steps. Still, I soon found myself crossing through the traffic and resting my hands on the safety railing, which was cold to the touch. I looked over the edge to see four more floors beneath me. A number of small quad-copter drones flew through the central opening, moving between the various floors, some carrying parcels, others not, and nowhere to be found­, was the sky.

***

Seeing no immediate destination for myself, and frankly, still in awe, I found myself wandering the circle. The floor appeared to be geared toward shopping and, presumably, cheap dining. It was indeed a mall. There was even a food court with various stalls serving food and drinks. Some of it I recognized, like burgers and fries––and noodles. Other offerings, meanwhile, were wholly foreign to me, such as something called 'olishuka.' Which appeared to be a stewed dish comprised of little pucks of a circular meat substance and what looked like potatoes. The whole thing was then smothered in a chunky, beat-red sauce before having a large toothpick stuck in one of the bite-sized hunks and messily handed over the counter to a greedy child while his mother chastised his rudeness––and my stomach turned.

I fell into a pattern of meandering, the personification of aimlessness, people-watching. Going around and around, I completed the circle two more times before I found a staircase leading below–And never once feeling illness take me, I had forgotten what it was like.

The stairs were wide enough for two people to walk shoulder to shoulder. I made my way down, feeling oddly at home in the congestion. The people around me, Like the woman from earlier, wore clothes that were nearly recognizable to me. They dressed...heavier... than I would've expected, considering the perfectly adequate ambient temperature. Most wore heavy boots and coveralls of various colors and designs. Some appeared as strictly work clothes, dirty and speckled with stains. Still others, mainly those in groups, had more stylistic choices. Only a few were dressed more basically in jeans and jackets. Regardless of the dress, there was very little in the way of exposed skin, however. I looked down at my new outfit, which seemed to fit in perfectly, a subdued example of everyday wear, and decided not to question it.

The next level of the complex I descended to was constructed in the same circular fashion but was less populated than the above floor. Instead of shops and a food court, with groups of people leisurely flowing throughout. The people on this level seemed to be more focused, silently going about whatever their business was with purposeful strides. There were no window shoppers or children crying for lunch here. There was less noise pollution, too, and fewer people for me to blend in with. I felt somewhat exposed. I had felt the weight of several eyes linger on me as I walked past an otherwise nondescript office. With no destination in mind, it appeared I was out of place. I stole a glance as I meandered past and accidentally locked eyes with one of my observers. He wasn't a particularly tall or intimidating man, probably of average height and build. Sandy brown hair faded close, gave him a military or police appearance. The steel in his gaze only seemed to confirm it. He wore thick-soled work boots and a dark blue coverall that seemed to have additional padding built up in the knees, elbows, and shoulders. Around his right wrist was a metallic wrist bracer that I couldn't be sure was functional or decorative. From his hip, however, hung a black holster.

The man and his similarly dressed partner eyed me, not backing down when our eyes met. But, made no motions toward me and soon seemed to lose interest, turning their attention elsewhere. I resolved myself then to only make one lap of this floor.

About a quarter loop later, I found another staircase opposite the first floor and descended to the third level. Again, my surroundings changed somewhat. Whereas the first two floors appeared to take aesthetics into account, The third circle was more utilitarian in its construction. Exposed wiring bundles and pipes painted various colors crisscrossed the walls and ceiling. The place seemed to be growing more spartan the lower I traveled. Hugging the wall as I walked to avoid attention, I did just the opposite––I nearly headbutted a man rushing through a suddenly open door.

"Sorry–in a hurry!" the voice called back to me as he disappeared behind a metal pillar. Taken aback, I peeked into the space the man emerged from; it appeared to be a waiting room. On either side of the room were rows of chairs. Some were occupied, others empty. Against a wall, a woman sat behind a desk typing away at some sort of computer I didn’t recognize. Behind her, a green cross hair hung from the wall, and I realized what this place was. It was a clinic of some sort, and she was a nurse.

I stood there for what felt like a long time; there was nothing particularly enthralling about the scene, but I stood transfixed nonetheless. Mesmerized, not by the nurse, who was–as nurses often are–beautiful. But by the mundanity of it all. In two chairs sat a woman and a young child, the latter fussing as her runny nose was swiped at by her mother. In another, an elderly man seemed to fight sleep as he waited to be seen. On the other side sat what appeared to be a couple, the two men close in an embrace, one held an arm wrapped around the other who looked a little worse for wear. Still, more people, a family by appearances, talked amongst each other quietly, and I found myself wondering the topic of their discussion.

…I was staring, I realized. I turned my head quickly so as not to appear to be eavesdropping, and––I realized I had been caught. The nurse, who had just seconds ago been busy with whatever was on the screen before her, was now staring directly at me. A soft, professional, but slightly concerned smile on her face.