Dear Linguist,

I have another dream for you to interpret.

A man crouches down in the corner of a concrete room. Hugging his legs and staring blankly between them, he sees a brutal grey shade that greets his vision any place he cares to turn his head. Like an underground parking lot but much smaller and where everything is simply uniform ground. The walls and roofs too are ground. All surfaces here are equal. A dim light emanates from an unknown source somewhere above the man’s head.

This is the situation you find your character in. How he appeared here or where he even is are questions you fail to be able to answer as there are no doors, windows or anything to enter or exit through. At the very least you know this room can’t be real as there is light yet you see no light source. But these aren’t questions that concern you.

All you care for is the future. You must know what he does next.

The man himself seems to be in a solemn daze. Not exactly sad or depressed, but perhaps just thinking. It seems that he favours that corner, and holds some strange adoration for it. Although all eight corners of the room are identical and he has the free will to sit in any he pleases, he chooses that one corner and has not moved from it since the moment of his decision.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

That is the condition of the character at present.

There are only two other things you should know about the man. Occurrences which break the tedium that have been recorded before. Perhaps these will help with your interpretation.

One. Every now and then, the man clasps his hands together and closes his eyes. When he does, the light grows brighter, illuminating more and more of his corner, but less and less of all the other corners of the room.

Two. Your character is not one man, but eight, each in a different corner of this cuboid concrete prison. Each man’s actions mirroring each other, with the same occurrences happening in each of their corners. Each man is also identical to each other, in the same likeness that their corners are identical to one another’s. But we assume the eight men together as a single character, as there is nothing to differentiate them from each other, and there never will be.

Now tell me Linguist, what does this mean? What will happen next?

Sincerely, Dreamer.