Where am I?
It's so dark…
Right, I must still be asleep... I will get up when the bell rings.
A young man curled up into a ball, fast asleep on a small yet cosy bed in his decently sized dorm room. His consciousness drifted in and out as he lay motionless on his side, waiting for his alarm to go off. But it didn't.
As time went on, he grew weary. Maybe he missed his alarm. Maybe he overslept! If he had, it would ruin his very important day. No. Not today. This was unacceptable.
Wake up!
Wake up already !!
What felt strange was that the young man was awake yet could not get up. He mentally screamed at himself as he protested his unfounded paralysis.
Even though he must be resting safely on his bed, from his perception, the young man felt that he was floating in a never-ending darkness as still as a winter lake; disturbingly undisturbed.
He tried to force open his eyes, only to see black. He tried to voice a prayer, only to hear ringing silence. A wave of horror gushed into his throat, making it a struggle to even keep breathing. Somehow, he broke off from his stupefied posture and found his hands instinctively gnawing at his weak neck, as if that would fill his chest with oxygen.
A faint and distant sound gradually caught his ear. Instead of the much-anticipated alarm, he heard something else. It got louder and louder until it rang in his head. The sound was similar to that of flaccid drums thumping rhythmically. He tried shirking away but to no avail.
Make it stop! Please let me wake up. He cried to himself in full panic.
What he didn't realize in his stupor was that the sound had been his very own heart racing violently within his ribs to keep him alive. At that moment, he couldn't even tell if he was standing or lying down, floating or drowning, let alone recognizing his heartbeat.
As a final attempt, he gathered all his strength and might into his limbs and began punching vacuum and kicking who knows which birdie's dick in the absolute dark emptiness.
Astonishingly, it worked!
His eyes fluttered in the morning light as boisterous tears rolled out, and with a loud audible gasp, he found his breath.
He turned over and stretched himself wide atop the sheets, buried his mess of a face down into his soft pillow, while his hands and feet hung out from the sides of the bed. He slowly pulled back his hands under the pillow and hugged it tightly, feeling all the textures to reassure himself of his environment. He was home. He was safe.
"Uggh…What a dream!" He let out a low grunt and tried to rise up.
As he was drowsily pushing himself up to feel around his familiar bedding, an ominous voice spoke into his head —
"Do you accept?"
Startled, the young man turned his head up and around, rubbing his glued eyes with his hand to catch a glimpse of the intruder.
Upon seeing what greeted him, he wished to go back to that dreadful dream from moments ago.
About twelve or so — tall, dark figures stood gallantly around his bed. Although their forms were shadowy and cloaked, he could tell that they were in armour, and one even seemed to be wearing a crown.
Who are they?
What do they mean by accept?
Accept what?
Am I still dreaming? No, I clearly woke up.
So…
Sinuhe Kaori paused and raised his hand in disbelief, trying to gauge their existence. His hand passed through the crowned figure's torso. All he caught was a cloud of charcoal smoke which swirled around his fingers.
Fuck!!
Fear bubbled within his chest. He reflexively began swatting at their figures as if to fan away their presence.
Ahhh..! Go away! Please. Go away… oh crap…
Just as Sinuhe Kaori was internally cursing his life decisions that might have led to that day, the dark figures who were haunting him suddenly vanished into thin air.
Again, astonishingly it had worked! They really left. As if his pathetic act of fanning them goodbye made them cringe or something.
Many strange things happened this morning. First, it was the odd dream that strangled me, and now this!
Why today, right before the seminar even! Is it a bad omen or something?
Sinuhe was confused if he should feel lucky to be safe or unlucky to even have such an experience.
Sigh…
Wait…. What if it was a side effect of the testing that I have been performing lately? Did I overdo it?Nah!
Perhaps it was his nerves. Yes. Definitely nerves.
His left hand reflexively pinched the bridge of his nose, then proceeded to slide his index finger and thumb firmly across the eyebrows, massaging. It was a habit he picked up from his adoptive uncle, which showed that he was very tensed.
When he no longer felt as jumpy, he scanned all corners of his room.
All clear. Huff!
He leaned over to his desk that was on the right side of his bed. A neat, well-kept white wood table.
Over it was his reliable red alarm clock that had ditched him today, placed decisively to the further left corner so that he had to walk a few steps every morning to turn it off. Behind it, a stack of philosophy books. Then right smack in the middle was his laptop. He flipped it open and browsed through his downloaded books. His cursor stopped over the one reading 'THE METHYD' by Dak.
He opened the book and read through the pages that he knew by heart, searching for some information that he might have missed before, that hinted at his distasteful experience from moments ago.
He found nothing much. The book said the method it preached was safe, and he had practiced it multiple times. This was the first time something so bizarre had happened to him.
His mind raced. The seminar he was presenting that day would advocate the use of this very method from the book. He was also going to perform it on stage.
What if something went wrong in front of everyone?
Tsk!!
Eh… never mind now. It's too late to change the presentation or to even cancel it.
Cancel it! What am I thinking? My whole research would be for nothing —
No, I don't have time for that. It's already 6:47 a.m. and the bus will be here in twenty minutes. I have to look fresh.
Today I will break minds and win it big!
With his conviction reinstated, Sinuhe Kaori jumped out of bed, slapped himself a few times, and rushed to the bathroom. He could not afford to miss the bus today. Especially as it was the day of his much-awaited seminar that he had gotten special permission from the Head of Department and his professors after months of persuasion— in other words, boot-licking. He had to follow them around like a newly hired pageboy from the medieval era, running errands and even lifting the hems of their capes as they walked in, grandiosely affronting his servitude.
He could accept all extra load like an obedient donkey as long as he got permission to showcase his research findings. When they see with their own eyes what he had prepared for them, nobody would be able to deny what a genius Sinuhe is! Not just a genius, he would be considered the God of Modern Philosophy! Truly magnificent. Therefore, he could not afford to be late or unsightly.
So there he was, a pampered little goose trying to become a hawk; that is, in the eyes of his professors and peers, of course.
Sinuhe Kaori was a third-year Philosophy doctorate student at Oakford University, one of the top universities in the world where people would even bribe their lover's lungs to get admitted into; no exaggeration. Our ambitious young man who was going to break the world that day with his groundbreaking research got in through special contacts his adoptive uncle pulled up last minute at the Dean's buffet party pre-admission.
As an orphan baby who was abandoned buck naked under a tree, when his aunt had found him, he was utterly pitiful. They did everything to adopt him into their family, but even to this day, Sinuhe never called them his parents. No one ever mentioned in front of him about him being adopted, but somehow he always knew. His adoptive guardians who treasured him as a fragile glass dancing doll let him do as he wished.
Do not misunderstand. He loved them dearly, and his present endeavour was also to make them proud and earn some. They were not rich like Belon Dusk, the self-made zillionaire of the world, but they could at least get their favourite life form on Earth an admission to his chosen university. By hook or by crook!
No matter how lenient his upbringing had been, Sinuhe never shied away from hard work. He performed exceptionally in his academics, and his philosophical standing and ideas were genuinely mind-bending.
In all his right, he was a diligent youth. However, some of his peers never acknowledged his effort nor talent, and secretly hated him for being privileged. Therefore, today, his mind had only one thought, one goal: to prove he was right and hence get the funding for his research proposal. No mistakes or mishaps allowed.
Oakford University has a funding opportunity for doctorate students whose proposals opened new doors to more sound research. So, after pestering the Head of Department and his professors, he finally got a slot for his seminar. And it would start in about 3 hours at 10 a.m. in the Lydberg Auditorium, nestled within the university's historic Westwood Academic Complex, which stood proudly between the Philosophy and Neuroscience departments.
Almost everyone from both departments would be present, along with the Dean, Chairperson of the Consciousness Research Division, Founder of the Oakford Philosophy Research Grant and other financing agencies with close relations to the Department Heads.
Sinuhe, who was now stuffing his face with a roast duck sandwich and ginger ale at the common dining hall behind the Philosophy Department, flipped over and over all his documents for the 67th time. No exaggeration.
His phone screen beamed 8:27 a.m. It was time for him to start his preparations at the hall before the guests arrived.
10:00 a.m.
Lydberg Auditorium.
Tall, arched windows lined the side walls, filtering in the coastal sunlight through high, stained-glass panels etched with symbols of knowledge: an owl, an astrolabe, a brain encased in a dreamcatcher, and an open book.
The seminar hall was one of Oakland University's pride. It exuded an air of quiet sophistication, the kind that comes with age, intellect, and legacy. And rightfully so, being a modern restoration of a neoclassical theatre upgraded with cutting-edge technology. The vaulted ceiling rose in elegant curves, adorned with intricate woodwork and discreet acoustic panels. Mahogany-panelled walls lend warmth, while the lighting system shifted subtly with the tone of the event — today, set to a soft, cerebral amber.
Guests had arrived and the hall beamed with conversation. The tiered seating, upholstered in forest green and stitched with the gold Oakford crest, was nearly full. Professors, grad students, visiting fellows from across the spectrum of disciplines — neuroscience, philosophy, cognitive science, theoretical physics — filled the seats with hushed curiosity.
There was a charge in the air, the kind that usually precedes big questions and bigger ideas.
A giant screen above the stage read the following words:
["Temporal Consciousness: Exploring the Feasibility of Time Travel via REM Sleep and Information Retrieval Across Time"
By Sinuhe Kaori, Philosophy PhD Student, in Collaboration with Oakford Neurology Department]