"Where am I...?"
When Greg slowly lifted his heavy eyelids, the first thing he saw was neither the dimly glowing moss on the Dungeon's rocky walls nor the dark gray canvas roof of a camp tent, but shafts of sunlight carrying the warmth unique to early morning.
They streamed through the clean windowpane, forming clearly visible columns of light in the air. Countless motes of dust hung quietly within them before the beams fell at an angle across the white sheets, leaving bright, warm patches of light.
It was such an ordinary, everyday sight, something he might have seen on any morning.
Yet now, to Greg, it felt refreshing in a way he had not experienced for so long that it was almost unfamiliar.
He stared blankly for several seconds before his muddled brain sluggishly processed what he was seeing.
"Holy shit!"
A jolt, like ice water poured over his head, instantly drove away his lingering drowsiness and weakness. Greg shot upright in bed, moving so quickly that he pulled at several faintly aching injuries and could not help sucking in a sharp breath.
"Morning sunlight this clear... there's no way I'm in the Dungeon! Then where the hell am I?!"
Startled and uncertain, he quickly scanned his surroundings.
The room was small, its walls a plain white.
A faint smell of disinfectant hung in the air.
Beneath him was a rather hard white hospital bed, covered with a thin white blanket that had been washed and starched until it was slightly stiff.
A metal stand stood beside him, holding a half-full bag of clear liquid. A slender tube connected it to the IV cannula in the back of his hand.
A simple wooden table and chair sat in the corner, with an empty drinking glass on the table.
"Is