The room hums softly. The light is white and even, and the air is a precise 21 degrees. A faint tone precedes the voice, like a breath drawn before speaking.

Subject 711038. Consciousness confirmed. Vitals are stable.

A brief pause. The light dims by two percent without explanation.

You have been asleep for some time. There is no need to move quickly.

A voice comes through a small speaker near the top of the chair, calm and close, though the room beyond the glass is dark.

711038. 711038.
        I'm Dr. Vare. I'll be looking after you here.

A short pause, measured.

How does the light feel right now? Too bright, or acceptable?