[ It's a strange topic to broach, but ever so relevant, under the circumstances. With legs crossed, she leans back and glances toward the robot barista behind the counter with open suspicion. Her voice carries low and quiet as usual, but she suspects they can hear as much as they want. ]

Not home. There was another city in another world—like this one, yet not. It had no name. There was no one to speak to there. No one to inform us of our supposed purpose, no one offering services, and no other signs of life. Not even a single ant. At least, so it was in the beginning.

[ Her shrug is slight, but her distaste is less subtle. ]

For nearly a year, there seemed no rhyme or reason to the horrific events that occurred. Even when certain truths were revealed, only more questions arose. Once finally finding escape, I ought to have known that it would not lead to freedom.

[ If 'freedom' could truly be applied to anything in her life back in England. ]

On awakening here, I had initially assumed it to be the most recent iteration of the last city, but enough has changed to leave me with doubt.