"...over here," someone said from somewhere distant, out of sight.

"Just laying there?" another person asked.

"Yeah. Damn near gave me a heart attack."

They fell silent then, footsteps replacing voices. I turned my head towards the sounds. Their tones had been hushed, like they were whispering to each other. I was more than likely the person they were talking about; for as long as I'd been conscious, I'd been laying on my back, the cold of the tiles seeping into my bones. It was uncomfortable, but I couldn't bring myself to get up. What was the point?

The footsteps got closer and closer, regardless of what I did or didn't do. Soon, a tall person with dark, curly hair and a clean white lab coat had rounded the corner, black boots clicking smartly against the hard floor. Another person (shorter, entirely bald save for his thick white beard, and seeming quite a bit older, but wearing the exact same outfit) trailed behind them.

Something about the bald man made me stir. I sat up, blinking in surprise. Everything suddenly came into vivid focus, like an artist bringing color to a grayscale sketch. He was... familiar, reminded me of someone I couldn't quite recall. But it wasn't him, this mystery person. And the other person was completely unknown to me. They both seemed unsettled–by my presence, or something else?

"Hello," I said anyways, to be polite. "Can you tell me where I am?"

Several emotions flashed over the tall one's face, finally settling on 'bureaucratically pained.' They explained in a monotone, "This is a secure federal office. We're going to need to question you." I realized they were the one whose voice I'd heard first. Probably the one who had initially found me, judging by what they'd said as they were walking up.

The other one added, "Not- Not here. Obviously. We're using a different room." The tall one elbowed him in the side.

"Hmmm." I stood up, folding my hands behind my back. Something in me chafed at being told what to do, but I figured this was my best shot at getting an explanation. "Lead the way, then."

As I followed them, I took note of my surroundings. This did, indeed, seem to be some kind of administrative building. We walked past individual offices, fields of cubicles, and rooms full of the desks of people that apparently didn't even deserve the cubicles. It seemed kind of... sparsely populated for an office, though. Most of the personal offices seemed lived-in, but at least half of the other desks were empty. And there were odd "blips" of unreality in it if I looked closely enough–dice-sized cubes of concrete protruding or missing from the walls, repeating bulletin boards, blink-and-you'll-miss-it things like that.

It didn't seem right to me, but what did I know? I was just an amnesiac; maybe this was normal.

Of course, there was the possibility that this was all an elaborate ruse. Maybe I'd been rich and famous before my tragic loss of memory, and these people were trying to scam me or something. That, at least, was more interesting than the idea that I really was just some random, very lost person. Even if it sounded more like a movie plot than something grounded in reality.

I entertained that thought for a while–what had I been like before my accident? Was it really an accident, or had these people caused it so they could fool me? Who was out there, gathering a team and preparing to break me out?–until we finally reached a room that seemed to satisfy my guides' desires. They shoved me inside roughly, closing the door before I could get a proper glimpse of it in the light.They shoved me inside roughly, closing the door before I could get a proper glimpse of it in the light.

Nursing my injured pride, I looked around at the little I could see.

Nursing my injured pride, I looked around at the little I could see. There was a single chair at the center of it. Overhead, a single lightbulb was hanging ominously. It only illuminated a tiny circle around the chair; the rest of the room was shrouded in darkness.

Basically, it was a picture-perfect interrogation room. I could have laughed. Instead, I asked sharply, "What'd you do that for?"

No answer. Typical. I sniffed derisively, holding out my hand and-

Not here.

I faltered. What had I been trying to do? And... Typical? What did that even mean? Typical to what?

I wanted my memories back. That was the most important thing here. I didn't have time for this little interrogation... but how was I going to get out of it? And why wasn't I scared or upset at all? I was perfectly calm, formulating plans and reviewing the scraps of evidence that I'd gathered. That seemed abnormal.

Who was I?

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Why had the tall person chosen now to speak? "I don't know," I replied after a moment. "I can't remember much of anything. My name... I think my name starts with a D, but that's it."

They scoffed. "You're a terrible liar if you think I'm going to believe that."

Well, I'm not sure what to tell you, I didn't say. Instead I spread my hands in a pleading gesture. "It's the truth. I don't..." I trailed off, remembering the man who looked like someone I'd known. "Oh, actually, there is one thing."

"Uh-huh. Do tell." Clearly, they still didn't believe me.

Despite their skepticism, I explained, "That man you're with. I didn't know him, but he-"

I was rudely interrupted by someone throwing the door open. A different man stood in the doorway, leaning into the room. "I'll take it from here," he told my interrogators.

His voice was deep. Rough, too. He wore a perfectly-tailored suit with a shiny little pin on the lapel. I had no idea why I took note of those specific details, but I did.

The taller person made a noise that sounded like a goose being strangled. "Director Trench, you- Uh- Of course, sir."

Trench's blue eyes lingered on a point in the darkness. Then they shifted over to me. "Come with me," he commanded. "I need to ask you a few questions."

I stood up. "I should inform you that I can't remember a thing. Not even my own name. So I'm not sure how many answers I'm gonna be able to give you."

He smiled, just slightly, and beckoned me forward.

And I followed, stepping back out into the light.