You fell face first on the orange clay with a loud thump, grumbling to yourself as you pushed yourself up and brushed down your pants. Realizing your were now fitted with an orange prison jumpsuit, you scavenged your inventory for any of your items, finding none. You looked up, spotting no sky. Just dark wisps of smoky clouds vainly trying to hide the bedrock that sprawled across the horizon.

”The guest will kindly follow the orange line to the check-in zone.”

A recorded voice caught your attention, making you look up at a jukebox that played the sound. The voice was foreign, tired, and crackly, as if spoken into the mic after just waking up. After a moment, you decided to take the disembodied voice’s word, creeping along the orange line with dreadful curiosity and gloom. Maybe this was your final resting place: the Sunshine Institute. Not very sunshine-y and pleasant— it did smell rather burnt and awful, like death.

You soon were, again, interrupted in your thoughts, feeling and hearing a metallic thump shake the dusty, dead ground. You cowered, seeing a bulky golem start hurtling towards you, purple electric patterns setting it apart from any golem you’ve seen before.

Spurred on by fear, you bolted down the remaining length of the path, tripping head over heels at the foot of a stranger. He quickly jumped out of the way, wearing a different sort of outfit, similar to that of security. The golem stopped once seeing you on the ground, growling neutrally. The man blinked as you stood up.

“Rough fall, eh? Don’t mind security. They’re here to make sure everyone behaves and stays safe.”

He assured. You could recognize his voice as the one that spoke from the jukebox. He gave a weak smile, trying to uphold the act of authority as he gestured you to follow him into the double iron doors.

“Welcome to the Sunshine Institute.”