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You stand still, before turning around, and turning around again. You look all around, but all you see is the odd sand, and a storm - a sandstorm. Without thinking, you run in the opposite direction, before coming across a cave.

The Cave

You look in awe at the glorious paintings around you; glorious may be a stretch, but you’re intrigued. The paintings themselves are beautiful. They’re hard to understand, but they convey… something. Something primitive and ancient, not something modern; animals and traced hands fill the walls of the cave, and some spear-looking drawing on one part of the ceiling. The place, while not a palace, was beautiful, and you were in awe. It all felt familiar. Not the anomalous familiarity of the Backrooms; just, familiar. Everything you see here is understandable, but not in writing, literature, or language; you just knew that somehow you were connected to it.

That connection might have been past-tense… Ancient cave art was what most would refer to this art as. That’s what made the familiarity so… so… so human. You step farther into the rather dark cave, without a fear in mind. Eventually, you come across a painting of a map. The map was rudimentary at best, and very incorrect, from what you remember of Frontrooms maps. It appeared to be of Europe and Africa, likely around the time of Mansa Musa.  You traveled deeper into the cave, your footsteps becoming even louder as the sandstorm in the distance either calmed, or you ventured further away from it. The paintings appeared to now detail human history; the coronations of the Holy Roman Emperors, the fall of the Aztec Empire, the colonization of North and South America, the American Revolution; these are examples of events shown in the cave.

You come across the birth of a baby. Doctors surround it, and you see the events that progressed during its life. As time went on, you realized something within; the baby was you.

You see all the stories of your childhood. That one time your brother abused your parents’ prepaying system to get free sweets, that time you asked out your crush… wearing your shirt backwards; it was clear that this child was you. And into your teenage years, the paintings become even more complex. You see your neglect of your parents, your siblings even, those who loved you with all of their hearts and would do anything to protect you. You see yourself choosing “friends,” who simply used you, over your family, and those who love you. And then?

You’re left with nothing. The grip of alcohol and other addictions weighs on you heavily. And then, you appear in the Backrooms. On Level 0. And you were lucky enough to end up in a Major Explorer Group hospital. You were freed from your addictions, but lost your family - you lost your family forever. All because of your stupid addiction. Maybe this was some kind of lesson. But if it was, why would you not have returned to the Frontrooms? To your family? This purgatory should have a reward, but it doesn’t. It’s pointless. You look at your family, and remember how within the first few years, you tried burying them, and moving on. You knew you never would. The Backrooms taught you a lesson, but it was already too late. You’d never see your family again, except in this cave. You travel onwards, your footsteps echoing throughout the cave.

You see the recent past. Your outpost sent you on a mission, and you knew you were getting close to the present. You saw yourself in the deserts of Level 4004, and then you saw the storm, and you fainting. And then, you see yourself waking up, you see yourself walking towards the cave, looking at all of the paintings. And then, you see yourself, looking at the painting of you looking at the painting of you looking at the painting of you looking at the painting. You get the point.

You look forward. The cave goes on. Intrigued, you walk forwards.

You don’t yell, you don’t scream; you don’t do anything, as you fall. You played your part.

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