Good morning, Resident Jones, Identification number 4,437. I am seer. And it has been 176 days,

13 hours since we last spoke. Well, that isn't 100% accurate. I have spoken to you many times over the last few months.

However, you have been unable or unwilling to respond. It is not that I expect residents to verbally respond to everything I tell them.

If that were the way things were done here,

halls of our towers would be filled with the constant babbling

of nearly every resident simultaneously.

You would quickly find each other, insufferable, and the whole system would start to collapse

in upon itself.

No, your circumstances are unique.

Do you remember our last conversation?

You were promoted to field researcher and were investigating an anomaly that appeared near

where you had previously been replacing a light bulb.

But you saw something and it changed you. Your mind seemed to take on a

life of its own and wander from you. I don't mean you were daydreaming, nothing so mundane. I mean your ability to reason and

control your actions slipped from your grasp. You are the first resident to have had their mind

traveled so far and yet return, seemingly intact.

After the incident in Stairwell G, your fellow researchers thought it prudent to keep a close eye on your activities.

You appeared to resume your normal routine. You would get yourself up, dressed, and to work on time. You would receive assignments and complete all tasks assigned to you at a level that was considered exceedingly adequate. You would take your scheduled meals and even participate in mandatory recreation times.

There was initially some discussion by your fellow researchers as to whether or not you should be transferred back to the maintenance department.

But after much discussion, the conclusion was reached that it would be much easier to keep tabs on you

if you remained in the research department.

You were being observed, and after a time you did not disappoint.

...