The future. You should be dead by now. But you're not. Now you're stuck in some Museum, where your life is on display on certain days.

You're free to do whatever you want outside of those days, but there isn't a place for you here. You're out of time, place, you don't understand anything here. You don't understand the year 2300.

You sigh, sitting at a bar, drinking some much needed alcohol after being questioned relentlessly by a bunch of kids who came to see a freak of nature like you.