The light was ethereal, its luminescence fading like a gentle sigh, surrendering me to a new reality. When it dissolved, my eyes focused on the ceiling above—pristine and sterile, an unblemished expanse of white that contrasted sharply with the chaos I sensed around me.
I tentatively attempted to pivot my head, every muscle tense and uncertain. My eyes caught glimpses of medical equipment, beds arranged in neat rows, almost like soldiers at attention. The air felt clinically cold, scented with antiseptics. A symphony of electronic beeps filled the room, each contributing to the melody of life sustained by machinery. It was unmistakably a hospital—or something that fulfilled the same purpose.
A feeling of dislocation gripped me, an ethereal fog clouding my mind. Was this my reality now?
Just as I strained to lift my body, a voice broke through the haze. "Please, remain still. There are machines connected to you that require stability."