Daniel's eyes slowly opened. Morning light poured through the curtains, and the smell of fresh tea and warm bread filled the air.
He blinked a few times. There was a strange heaviness in his chest, and… oddly, his head hurt. He looked around, a frown forming on his face.
Wasn't he just in the cave? Then where was this place? Was he dreaming? But he hadn't even fallen asleep to begin with.
Wait... he didn't sleep? Then what was he doing before this? Why couldn't he remember? His memories were a complete mess, tangled together—he couldn't recall what he was doing before opening his eyes.
"Daniel! Hurry up, son! Breakfast is getting cold!" A familiar yet unfamiliar voice called from outside the room.
It was the voice of a middle-aged man, one he hadn't heard in years—so long that he couldn't even remember the last time he had.
