It was mere routine; take a tablet with water, and then, go to sleep. Prescribed sleeping pills always lulled Mike to sleep, even if the dreams were only about Garrett being abducted over and over again, but at least it was something.

Something awfully changed. Instead of waking up in a forest, watching over his brother, he woke up in an office in front of a computer. An old one at that. The green cursor blinked from time to time, seemingly waiting for some input, thereof lack of unfortunately blocked the ability to text anything in the line. What a nightmare.

Mike rose from the office chair, finally noticing how messy the office he was in was, papers with meaningless reports and mugs scattered here and there, which he didn’t bother to clean up if, hypothetically, it was just a dream, it didn’t matter if the room was cleaned up or not. Came closer to the door, turned the handle, and stepped outside to be met with another hall filled with working desks and technology seemingly for other workers, which, for some reason, weren’t there.

“All of his coworkers were gone, what could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room, perhaps he had simply missed a memo.”

The sudden voice interrupting him was clearly a shocker. It surely wasn’t even American; it was British. This is certainly not Nebraska where he was right in this moment. “What is this,” he utters flatly, out of words for something as absurd as this.