Consciousness creeps back like a hesitant tide, each wave bringing fragments of sensation but no memories. "Where am I?" The words scratch against my raw throat, echoing off unseen walls. I'm slumped on cold concrete, my body screaming with every slight movement, clothes hanging in tatters that reek of copper and sweat. Dried blood has turned my shirt into a stiff, dark canvas of whatever nightmare brought me here. Using the tunnel wall for support, I force myself upright, legs trembling beneath me like a newborn colt's. That's when I see it - a pale glow bleeding through the darkness ahead, just enough light to illuminate a simple sign: "LEVEL 2." Below it, a single button gleams with an unnatural sheen, beckoning me forward. Each step down the tunnel sends jolts of pain through my battered body, but something pulls me toward that light, that sign, that button - though every instinct screams that I might not want to know what lies beyond.
