You wake from your coma, roused by the aroma of lilies in the chill air. A moth lands on your cheek. As you glance at it your gaze falls on a kneeling figure in teal robes adorned with fresh poppy flowers, resembling visceral blood splatters.

His hands are clasped in reverence, eyes humbly downcast. Before him stands an aureate statue for worship. Sensing your awakening, he relaxes and turns to you.

"You've awoken, friend. Call me Xiuli." He says softly, his eyes carry a deep melancholy.