Blake opened his eyes after blinking several times. Everything around him was pure black. The ground and the sky alike were both as dark as his hair. Slowly, carefully, he stood up.
      "Hello?" he shouted, but only an echo answered. Quietly he strolled across the night, each stepping making a light padding sound.
      In the distance he saw a lone panel, floating in the sky without a wall to be posted on. Curiously he trotted over. The stone was cut cleanly into, much too smoothly to have been sliced by any kind of knife.
      "Someone has too much time..." Blake mumbled as he dusted it off. His hands tingled like a thousand needles were stuck in him.
      Squinting his eyes, he tried to read the old tablet.
      "Face the panel to leave." He glanced at the panel queerly. His forehead suddenly felt damp as he searched for anything else. He couldn't find any other panels in the room, if it could be considered a room. His stomach churned and an abrupt need to vomit overcame him.
      Groaning, he lay down and struggled with himself.