.̸.̴.̵ .̶̜̀̀.̴͉̓.̶̥̈́͐͜ Ę̵̛̘͆̄͐̆͝͠͠x̸̨̟̟̝͈̦͍̬̪̱̂̑̽͂̀̇̌̂͜͝ͅi̸̜̻͇̤̲̎̉̑͆͆͐̑̂͐́͌͠ͅs̶͍̜̘̏̎̅́̒͑͐͝t̵̡̘͙̻͈͓͚̬͚́̃͂̋͜.̴̺͇͈̘̬̰̹̥͈̩̙̮̫̒͐̉̾͂̋̈̊̄̃̈́̈́̓ You are in what appears to be a candle-lit wooden room. Facing you, dozens of bookshelves and a writing desk surround a small window, opening toward a landscape you cannot recognize. You have no idea of what, where, or when you are. You do not know how you ended up where you are. While you can sense and experience your surroundings, you cannot feel yourself. While you cannot directly move, a piece of parchment is facing you, placed directly upon the desk.
To whoever may be reading, You may or may not be coming from here. I so happen to have been your predecessor. Welcome to the Cylinder.Further on your table, a few files have been disposed, seemingly for you to read them. You can choose to diriectly inspect them, so as to understand their nature.