no. i // voice //

[seasalt_sunset]

[When the transmission goes through, there's no voice speaking into it. What can be heard, however, is the sound of waves gently lapping against a shore. It keeps on like this for several moments, rhythemic, steady, recurrent, until a soft, shaky, breathy voice speaks up. It's distinctly melancholy, bordering on what sounds a lot like the voice of one wracked by guilt, anxiousness.]

...I think this is some sort of mistake.

...I shouldn't be here right now. There's something important I need to be doing...

I don't know...how I got here, why I got here, but...I need to go back.