"You're going to be the one to claim Wahid's Vessel."
Why me?
"You're going to be assigned with a task force to go to an abandoned lab."
Why?
"You're not going to become an archaeologist."
Why not?
Ephraim stared at the darkness. He had been hearing voices for a while now. Voices that belonged to people he knew. He listened to their relentless calling with lips shut tight. Hands that were pointing onto him what to do and voices commanding and telling him what and how he should act.
Ephraim sat in that darkness and then, again—he found comfort. Something that he has not to have in a particularly long time. The comfort of his apartment, and the regular things a young adult experience daily.
He heard a distant calling—like a mother's whisper. He wasn't sure if he should be remembering this now. But it did. He walked towards the source of that voice. In the depths of his mind, he saw himself parallel to where he was standing.
