Your name. You remember that much…you recall your parents, but dimly; if you try to focus too sharply on the memory, it slips away. You are lost, now, in a city that you remember as if from a dream. Your pulse rages; a tenacious citrine fog has been grasping for you, and in the back of your awareness is the certain knowledge that your death waits in that fog…

Strange Aeons

Dodekatheon