BANG! You hit your head on the floor once you land. Land? Ugh... where... where are you?

"Jeez, that's one way to show me you're back." A deadpan voice says. You look up and see a pinwheel object, typing something into a weird... table device thingy? Whatever, doesn't matter, as you're more concerned with your whereabouts. You feel dizzy and groggy, like you've been hit over the head.

"Time of death: May 8, 2021. 7:03 P.M. Omnipresent Standard Time." Michael says, still typing. Time of death... what? He briefly glances up at you, noticing the confused and frankly bewildered state you're in. He sighs.

"Alright dude, you're fine now. Just sit over there. Your recovery will be done soon." He motions vaguely towards two couch chairs in the corner of the room, directing his attention back to typing. This room looks pretty bland and basic, with only a few posters on the walls for decoration, aswell as a door in the corner opposite to you.