A few hours ago, you woke up in a dark elevator, in a state of panic, remembering nothing but your name. When the doors finally opened, about 30 or 40 boys stared at you, none older than 15 or 16. The conversation had been confusing. They kept saying: “Another one”.

You were pulled out of the elevator and interrogated, about a ‘maze’, and asked if you knew who had sent them here. But you had no answers - you couldn’t remember. Frustrated, the group of boys had left you alone.

Only one boy, a tall, blonde guy, had pulled you aside. He said his name was Newt and he calmly explained that the group of boys had woken up in this place - the Glade - a couple weeks ago, with no memories or any idea what is going on. Unlike you, they hadn’t come up in the lift, but just woken up here. Since then, more kids have been sent up in the lift, like you. The Gladers had gotten organized, starting a farm, and exploring the maze outside - which had no exit, apparently. Newt said that, to their surprise, whoever had sent them here kept sending supplies via ‘the box’ - the lift - and occasionally some more kids, although becoming less frequent now.

After that, Newt had left you to gather your thoughts. Exhausted, you curled up in a ball behind the trees in the Glade, where you still sit right now, a few hours later. You look up to see Newt approaching you again.

“Hey. It’s been a few hours. How’re you doing? What’s your name again?”