ur eardrumbs, and what little air you can breathe in smells sterile. You have no clue where you are, how you got here, or who 'you' even are - It hurts to think too hard. Through the inky, sore haze there is one thing that you can reach out to - a sense you can ground yourself with. There's a flavor on your tongue that, for some reason, you think you brought with you. Maybe that can help you retrace your steps.