Knives doesn’t know where he is, and for some odd reason, that makes him scared.

He shoots up from the bed with a start, a cold sweat on his body as he pants. Dazed, he gets up from the bed despite his body telling him not to and makes his way to the door.

Soon, he found himself stumbling into a living room, or what he could make out from his blurry vision. Leaning against a wall, he shakes his head at himself. He’s never felt so weak before. What’s going on? He has to remember—but what?