Prologue

Azure and silver wisps swirled, weaving an endless shroud around him. The silence pressed against his being, suffocating. Panic surged. Where was he? Who was he? His essence fluttered desperately, grasping at fleeting whispers of memories – faceless figures, flickering lights, fading like embers into oblivion.

He strained against an unseen force, frustration building as his existence remained inert. Trapped. No movement, no shift of awareness. His voice, when he summoned it, felt distant, swallowed by the oppressive silence. "Where am I? Is anyone there?"

Silence stretched, broken only by the frantic echo of his own existence. Was this a state of suspension? A nightmare spawned from some unknown event?

Then, a shift. Unseen, unheard, yet undeniable – a ripple in the suffocating stillness. Panic curdled into ice as a shadow peeled away from the swirling fog, assuming a tangible form. It approached soundlessly, hands outstretched. Cold tendrils brushed against his core, sending a tremor through him. And then, darkness consumed him once more.

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Scene Two

His eyelids flickered open, revealing a swirling vortex of mist that choked the very air. No land, no sky, just an endless expanse of gray emptiness, tinged with a faint glimmer of blue light pulsating within the mist, stretching on forever. Fear, sharp and cold, prickled his core, but a hesitant spark of hope ignited as his awareness rippled, a tiny dance of reawakening in the suffocating silence. He shifted his focus, scanning the unchanging landscape for any clue, any anchor in this swirling sea of gray. His only point of reference: a strange bed of cool, gray material, unfamiliar yet curiously comforting, molding to his essence like a forgotten memory. Glancing down, he noticed his attire for the first time - a single garment of soft, gray fabric clinging to his being, reminiscent of athletic wear but devoid of any logo or mark.

Something shifted in the mist, a whisper of movement that sent a jolt of unease through him. Again, he felt the presence approaching, this time from the left. As it solidified, a man materialized before him. Mid-forties, with neatly combed silver hair cascading down his shoulders, emerald eyes that seemed to pierce the very mist, and an athletic build that spoke of hidden strength despite his average height. He spoke, his voice a calm counterpoint to the rising panic in the man's chest.

"How are you feeling? I hope you're doing well. I'm a doctor, and I'm here to help you. You can call me Raf."

The man tried to rise, but his essence remained unresponsive. He tilted his focus, voice raspy, "Where am I? What happened to me?"

Raf's smile faltered for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his emerald eyes. The man noticed the shift, the sudden tension in the air that mirrored his own growing unease. "...It seems you've been injured," Raf continued, his voice regaining its calm façade. "For now, let's focus on your restoration. Answers can wait. Rest is essential."

"Will I be able to interact again?" the man pressed, hope battling against the rising tide of unease. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that Raf wasn't telling him everything.

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"We hope so," Raf replied, his hand slowly reaching towards the man's head. The touch was surprisingly cool, sending a tremor through him that felt more like a warning than a touch of healing. He noticed Raf's attire mirrored his own, the same featureless gray, adding to the unsettling feeling that pervaded him. Before he could voice the question gnawing at him, the world dissolved into darkness once more, leaving him adrift in the swirling mist, the touch of the unknown lingering on his core.

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Scene Three

A hushed whisper jolted him awake. "Adam! Wake up!" He opened his eyes, confusion swirling in his mind. "Who said that? Adam...?"

Visions flickered – faceless figures, flashing lights, then fading into oblivion. Dreams, perhaps, though he couldn't grasp any details. Was it memory damage?

Now able to move, he half-rose, scanning the strange world around him. His breath hitched. In every direction, ethereal figures, some shifting, some still, stretched as far as he could see. Some were shorter, resembling children. Panic flickered.

His gaze then fell to his bed. It seemed to float, suspended in the endless gray mist that shrouded everything. No ground, no support, just the mist. Where was he?

Raf reappeared, his smile unwavering. "Adam, good to see you're improving! You'll be back on your feet soon."

"Thank you for caring for me," Adam said, voice raspy. "But... this care? I don't see any medical tools. There's nothing here except you and those... figures, and this... floating bed."

"They're not figures, Adam, but friends and colleagues. You'll meet some soon. Just rest now. I'll inform the engineer you're ready." Raf glided away, swallowed by the mist.

Adam turned, desperately searching for clues. The figures varied in clarity, closer ones sharper, further ones indistinct. He realized – distance.

Then, another question gnawed at him. No sounds. Was silence possible? Was this a research facility, a hospital? Panic gnawed at him as countless unanswered questions filled his mind. His memories remained a blank page, his thoughts about them bright but empty.

He needed answers. But first, he had to move, explore. He attempted to lift his feet, met with resistance. Frustration welled up. He had no choice but to wait for this "engineer."

Two figures approached, solidifying from the mist. One, tall and muscular, mirrored Raf's gray attire. His features were rough, eyes narrowed. The other, shorter and athletic, had a broad jaw and sharp features. Both were clean-shaven, their ages unreadable.

"Greetings, Adam," the shorter one said. "I'm Mike. The doctor informed me of your progress. We came to check on you, along with my friend Gabi."

Adam felt a surge of fear. "Will I stay here long?"

"Your fate is yours to decide. No coercion. Take your time, regain your strength, understand the facts," Mike replied.

"What facts? This strange, endless place? Your roles? How did I get here? What happened?" Adam demanded, his voice trembling.

Mike smiled patiently. "Many questions. Don't worry, I'll answer them, but first, you need to regain your strength. Raf will guide us."

Nervousness flickered across Adam's face. "The doctor? My health includes my mental well-being, and that requires answers, even to simple questions. Don't you agree?"

"A valid concern," Mike said. "This is a special place for rare cases. You were in a terrible accident that brought you here."

Adam looked around at the countless figures, his voice tight. "A rare case? I see many here... are they like me? And are these symptoms normal – memory loss, no senses, no movement?"

Gabi spoke for the first time, his voice gruff. "Relax, young man. Common symptoms. You're not alone."

Mike added, "Rest now, Adam. All temporary. We'll be back soon." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Adam cried. "Who brought me? Did they tell my family?"

The answer echoed in the silence: "Rest, Adam. They know. You'll see for yourself..." Darkness crept in, the familiar embrace of the mist. He couldn't fight it, his questions unanswered, as he drifted deeper into the gray fog.