Through faint tears in the fabric, light disperses like water drops dripping off of an old and dingy little tap. No figures beyond one can be spotted in the haze, the sand and the little torch he's holding over there...

In the realms between, in the lands below, in the skies that extend, in the winds that blow, I, mere thought, within the

Eons-long Universe-wide Yggdrasil-tall...

place where we reside, am surging through the mind of

this body in this room in this building in this town in this city in this province in this country in this continent in this planet in this system in this galaxy in this universe in this multiverse in this inobservable scale.

Welcome aboard, kind one. Not many come here; even fewer linger. Care to look through a few books on the arts?

I...
admittedly
don't have much
to offer you.

You wouldn't... happen to have a name, would you?
Yes No

It doesn't really matter in this current domain. We just wander about completely unaware and unwary of who is who and what is what. Names and titles, acts and standing, matter little when all you are as reference is merely a body of text arranged into the characteristically amateurish diction peculiar to the mad bitch that put this awful place together... But don't concern yourself with this too much.