I’ve been standing here for a while, waiting for someone to show up. So far, nothing. If someone’s meant to meet me, how would I even recognize them? I can’t even remember my own name, so recalling someone else’s face feels like a long shot.
Why am I here? That question’s been circling my head since I first spotted this building. Back at the gas station, my eyes locked onto it—a skyscraper rising above everything else in the city, its faint neon glow impossible to ignore. Now, after following the GPS in my helmet, I’m standing directly in front of it.
For the first time since waking up in that motel, I feel something—a connection. The shape, the structure, the way the light bounces off its metallic surface—it all stirs something deep in me. It’s faint, but it’s there. Familiar.
I don’t know why, but I’m certain of one thing: I’ve been here before. This place knows me, even if I don’t know myself.
