The world comes back as slowly as it left. The voices come back as you adjust to your surroundings.
You’re on a bus, just waking up after falling asleep with your head against the glass.
“We need to make a decision!” says the feminine voice. “She’s fucking waking up on her own.”
You feel like you’ve been on this bus before.
“There are less than two dozen observers voting.”
Or this type of bus at least.
“That’s going to have to be enough. What’s the vote?”
It was an 8-hour trip to Montreal, and you slept most of the way there, waking up at dawn, limbs aching.
“A majority love her. A strong contingent is indifferent. One hates her.”
You’d felt bad that day, but where are you now?
“The majority wins. Alright, let me turn the mic on so we can introduce her to the Sprawl.
And who are these voices?
“Shit, the button’s not working.”
There’s nobody else on the bus.
“Well, can she hear us?”
And the bus just stopped.
“We can’t just ask if she can hear us. We have to read the script. It’s our duty.”
The door opens, and the driver steps outside.
“Good Morning. We are the technicians. You are waking up from a dream in a world all your own. The Sprawl can be anything you make it. We’d like to first learn a bit about you, if that’s okay with you. Let’s start with the basics. What’s your name?”