He awoke with a start, the purple, roiling plasma covering the dark metal of his sleeping form suddenly erupting into brilliant blue-white flashes. As he struggled to consciousness, he noticed green words in front of his vision. "Wake up, It is time for stage one."

He began to ponder just where he was when the message played itself again. Furiously, he began to bang at the walls of the coffin, his anger filling the space with sparks. Suddenly, the walls just seemed to fall away. He managed to keep calm, though his mind was racing. He saw other beings of all types looking as confused as he felt. Stepping away from the plate he had been left on, a voice boomed. "Down the hall and to the right is a room. It has your clothes and equipment. Dress, and Prepare."

Shrugging at the others, he began to move in that direction, while trying to process all that had happened to him leading up to that prison of a box. He found he couldn't. He could barely remember his name.

They called him Arc.

But who were they?