Darkness, silence say for the white noise that filled the ears. What happened? Where am I? Questions. Nothing but questions. Vision's dark but not gone. Blurry. White. Lots of white with coldness against the skin. It's a floor. He lays on it but unaware of the other presence in the white walled room. Vision slowly returning as he sits up. He feels heavy, tired, hungry. In front of him his vision clears and sees others. Others taking on the same previous form. In the center, a small pillar embellished by ancient pictures and wording and stained in blood. He cannot make it out say for a few but upon it a pressure plate. He goes to stand but falls again.

He calls out to the others, hoping to get a response but is unsuccessful in doing so. An emotion surfaces. Anxiety? No. Paranoia? Nigh, it is fear. What has happened? He looks to the wall next to him. A note, etched into the wall. "Press the pressure plate". It has been scratched out. Underneath was another instruction. "Don't press the pressure plate. Just-" Squinting, confused by the sentence that was cut off. There. That pressure plate is important. What to do?