To say that it was raining would be an insult. John woke with aches and chills in every part of him, rain drilling into him as he lie face-down on ice-cold stone. He lifted his face from a puddle, trying to focus on something, though the pounding of the rain did little to help what was almost certainly a migraine. He slowly managed to support himself on one arm and open his eyes. The water cascaded down his face, making it ridiculous to see, but he spotted his hazel-green die lying just out of arm's reach. Lacking another option, he dragged himself the short distance to the die, his body screaming in pain. He nearly collapsed by his die as he reached it, blinking the water from his eyes. The die sat on 1. "How fucking fitting," John muttered through gritted teeth. With effort, he grasped the die and made an attempt to stand. Within seconds, his worn shoes lost grip on the slick surface, shoving him straight back onto the stone. He gasped, clutching his elbow, feeling a new liquid run down his arm. He disbanded that attempt and began focusing on his surroundings. Buildings stood, broken and desolate, inhuman in design... yet, despite that, somehow oddly familiar. John stared at the buildings in utter confusion and slight dismay, and found himself staring at a collapsed figure of a body nearby. The longer he stared at it, though, the less human it appeared, yet the more familiar it seemed. Finally, John had a though he should have had some minutes ago. [i]Where the hell am I?[/i]