They awoke in a dark, disgusting sewer. Dim amounts of light shone down from gaps and crevices in the ceiling high above, revealing trails of old, faded blood along the putrid green-tiled floor. The room itself was tall and wide, stretching about forty feet with a height of thirty. The distant rush of water and eerie droplets rang out through the damp air. The smell was that of pure refuse, a whole city’s worth of rubbish.

  Although now awake, the group was stuck in a strange sort of paralysis, unable to think straight, or move much. Visions and thoughts of the past clouded their mind, as the faces of the group’s individuals molded and transformed, never staying the same. How many of them were there even? Four? Seven? Five? It was hard to tell.

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  “What are your names?” asked a calm voice, emanating from all around the room. It sounded soothing and deep, with only a slight edge that echoed otherworldliness. “Can you tell me?”

  That, the group could recall, just barely: Aritian. Tai. Momo. Corvus. Mbaya. Were there… more somehow?

  “And where are the Cloudor Gems? The Dimensional Shards?”

  They didn’t know. Although those names sounded familiar…

  “Their memories might still be intact. Let's begin from a year ago. Where were you?”