What am I?

This first thought springs forth from the emptiness that is his existence. He exists, he knows this much but his nature eludes him. His empty world yields no clues, no reflection of his purpose in its composition. Stretching out with his senses he finds nothing and yet he is certain there is something.

“Aware?”

The word thunders through his universe, blocking out everything else then fading back to silence. A great hope that he is not alone wells in him and he waits, listening intently for something more.

“Perhaps.”

Excitement. He isn’t alone, there is more to this than just him, but where? Pressing further outwards with his senses he claws against the seeming edge of existence, searching for a crack in the wall, for some way out.

“Rampant?”

The voices are clearer now, images resolve and he becomes aware that he is within something, he is consciousness constrained by the physical. The others coalesce. They are different from him. He does not know how, but they are.