First Pulse

Consciousness arrived without warning. I was leaning against a padded red-and-blue cushion on the edge of a dark flat desk. My fingers responded to intent. I pushed down, lifting my torso away from the sloped rest until my boots took my own weight. Across the surface stood a motionless red figure and scattered plastic blocks. I kept silent. I stepped forward, reached out, and pressed a single gloved palm against the edge of the red cushion to verify its density. Solid. Stable. I remained perched right beside it, scanning the perimeter.