In a distant future humanity achieved such a level of technological advancement it was able to breach the borders of three-dimensional reality and move to the multiverses of multidimensions. But some of us were too afraid to move on. So, they stayed...
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On the threshold of my cell stood a young man in a gray loose robe. His blue eyes shone brightly in the rays of the moon, wrapped in clouds above the horizon.
"Well, hello, boss," he repeated and entered.
There were two stone beds in the cell, and he sat down opposite me, carefully examining my wary face.
"Do we know each other?"
"Of course."
"Alas, I must admit, I have no idea who you are."
"Fascinating," the guest whispered thoughtfully, stood up and began to look at me from different sides.
"Is something wrong?"
"Yes... that is... you, boss, seem to be peeling off your imprint."
I looked at him in fright and began to feel my body mechanically, as if I could grab the imprint and hold it.
"What do you remember about how you got here?" my interlocutor asked with a frown.
"I was taken for resisting justice..."
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"No, more globally. How did you get into this world? Do you remember how you appeared here?"
I blinked and turned my inner gaze into memories. But, to my surprise, I found there only vague images relating to my life on Number 4, and then ... emptiness. My guest noticed my confused look and sympathetically shook his head.
"You forget. And soon you will forget everything."
I crawled back to the wall in fright and grabbed my legs. Memories flickered in my head, but whether from fear, or for some other reason, I could not collect anything intelligible, consistent from them.
"How long do you think you've been in this city?"
"A month?" I asked anxiously.
"Fifteen years." the interlocutor snapped.
I stared at the floor in silence, feeling like a helpless puppy. Tears began to come to my eyes. I tried to restrain them, but in vain, one treacherously slipped out and rolled down my cheek.
