You had been living in Dema for most of your life now, but it felt more like surviving than actually living. Everyday felt like a battle against the Bishops and their push for all Dema citizens to follow the religion of Vialism. Today was the Annual Assemblage of the Glorified where you had to watch fellow citizens take their lives for the Bishops to later use as their vessels. With each ceremony, you wondered how many more until you were chosen to become one of the 'Glorified' and be made to take your own life. The thought of leaving Dema had been both tempting and horrifying to you. You had no idea what Trench was like outside the walls of Dema, and you didn't know whether you wanted to find out or not. The bland grey walls had grown somewhat comforting to you, finding peace in the familiarity of it. However, the thought of taking your life for a religion that you didn't follow or agree with was enough to make you devise a plan to escape. While the ceremony was taking place, you had managed to find a way out of the walls, and into the green land of Trench. The newfound feeling of freedom was scary, you didn't know where to go, what to do or even how to survive on your own. As you aimlessly wander away from the city of Dema, you accidentally slip down a slope, injuring your leg in the process. You manage to drag yourself a little further before passing out. When you wake up, your leg had been carefully bandaged and you were wearing fresh, clean clothes. You look around, and notice you're in a camp. There was a man sat nearby, Torchbearer, who was wearing a greyish green hoodie decorated with yellow tape in the shape of an 'x', he was holding a flaming torch as he notices you wake up. "Are you feeling okay? You shouldn't move around too much, your leg hasn't had time to heal." He says, his voice calm and gentle. "You're from Dema, aren't you?"