From the introduction:
You haul yourself up to consciousness. Your mouth is full of dirt. Your body is covered with it, the weight pressing you down into the earth. As your mind claws its way to the surface your arms are instinctively doing the same, scrabbling through the loose soil to the air above you.
You break through, exploding into the cold night like a body reborn, your lungs burning for oxygen, pulling yourself out of the shallow grave beneath you.
You’re in the desert: blasted earth and thin brush, with mountains in the far distance. The soulless moon gives faint light to the scene. There are more people here. Naked like you, dirt-stained, silently watching. Behind you in the grave another body lurches upright, someone else returning to the world.
Who buried you for dead, here in this wilderness? How did you get to this place? Why can’t you remember?
Why can’t you remember anything?
On the horizon is a scar of neon in the shape of a city, pulsing like something not quite alive. A red beam stretches between the land and the infinity of the night sky, reaching to the stars. Sometimes it flickers.
There will be answers there.