FYS: Wake Up Call, Part One

And so we return to where everything started, in a sense.

* * *

The last free man awakened.

He was in a single room building with white walls, tan carpeting, an innocuous landscape on the wall. He lay in a comfortable lounge chair, unrestrained. His long hair had been cut short while he’d slept, and someone had dressed him in soft grey pajamas and slippers.

Though there wasn’t a morph in sight, his mind immediately began screaming, “Run, run, run!” But he’d survived too long in the wilderness to heed it without scouting things out first. Instead he stood up carefully, swaying slightly as he fought for balance. There was window with no glass in the frame to his right, and to his left a portal with no door. Through them he could see a grassy, sunlit lawn, and heard the chirp of an oriole.

Still no morphs appeared, no one called out, “Sir, let me help you.” He was as alone as he’d been for the five years he’d hidden in the woods, while the Groupmind and its army of robots destroyed mankind’s civilization.

( But not for long )