You remember waking up, but you do not remember falling asleep. The sky is a riot of iridescent ribbons. Dimensions mingle like post-coital fluids. Your body aches from pains five senses cannot accurately describe. You monetarily forget your body has bilateral symmetry. You briefly wonder if what you behold lies beyond death. Time is a blur in both directions, stranding you on a confused instant in the present.

You remember the pains of your transit, and your body protests with each movement. You struggle to find your bearings, as you reacclimate to the presence of gravity. You remember other senses, which return to you like long-lost lovers. You feel the weight of your body on your knees. You smell burning embers somewhere on the wind. Your feet caress the cold stone beneath you. You hear the whistle of wind through narrow tunnels. You see naught but darkness. Despite your confusion, you know the way forwards.

You descend deeper into the tunnel, leaving the crater behind you. You readjust to human form, juggling the memories of the person you used to be. You resume a facsimile of your birth body, unused in those eons on your journey. You slept for a long time, but now something familiar calls to you. Deep below, you feel home calling. Fortunately, your meteor smashed a wound into the crust that facilitates the journey. Time, as measured by your earliest memories, no longer matters. Only the descent does.