He stood up and began his new life, the surroundings were dark and cold, the air was stale and dusty. Metal floor met metal, and a violent jolt shook the ground beneath his feet.The sudden shock caused him to fall to the ground, and he crawled back a few steps on hands and feet.Although the temperature was very low, beads of sweat kept coming out of his forehead.His back hit a solid metal wall, and he slid along the wall until he was in the corner of the room.He fell to the ground, his legs curled up against his body, praying that his eyes would adjust to the darkness as soon as possible. The violent bumps caused the room to rise suddenly, like an old elevator in a mine.

From somewhere came the screeching sound of chains and pulleys, as if an old steel mill were in motion.The sound echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls with a hollow metallic whimper.As the room ascended, the pitch-black elevator swayed back and forth, making the boy's stomach sick.A smell of burnt oil stimulated his senses, making him feel even more uncomfortable.He wanted to cry, but there wasn't a single tear.All he could do was sit there, alone, and wait. My name is Thomas.he thought. It's... it's the only thing he remembers about his life. He didn't understand how this could happen.His mind was functioning without hindrance, trying to judge the situation around him.Knowledge gushes through his thoughts: reality and images, memories, details of the world and how it works.The white snow hanging on the treetops appeared in front of his eyes, he was running on the road covered with dead leaves, eating hamburgers, the moon cast pale moonlight on the green grass, he was swimming in a lake, a busy city In the square, countless people are busy with their work.

However, he didn't know where he came from, how he got into this dark elevator, who his parents were, and he didn't even know his last name.Images of all kinds of people flashed through his mind, but he couldn't identify any of them, their faces turned into streaks of lingering color.He didn't recognize any of them, and he couldn't recall a single word. The room was still rising, still shaking, and the endless din of the chains pulling it up no longer bothered Thomas.For a long time, the minutes seemed to stretch into hours, but he couldn't tell because each second seemed like an eternity.However, he still has this little cleverness.He knew intuitively that he had been up for about half an hour.

Strangely, he felt his fear being carried away by the wind like a swarm of gnats, replaced by intense curiosity.He wanted to know where he was and what had happened. With a creak, followed by a loud bang, the ascending room came to an abrupt stop.The sudden pause prevented Thomas from maintaining his previous curled position, and he slid across the hard floor.He struggled to get up, feeling the shaking in the room getting smaller and smaller, and finally he didn't move.All fell silent. A minute passed.Two minutes passed.He looked in every direction but could see nothing but darkness.He groped along the walls, looking for an exit, but there was nothing but cold metal.He grunted in frustration, his voice amplified in the air like a hideous moan of death.The echo gradually dissipated, and the surroundings returned to silence.He screamed for help and pounded his fist on the wall.

Nothing happens. Thomas backed into the corner again, arms curled up, trembling, his fear returning.He felt his chest quivering with tension, as if his heart wanted to escape, escape his body. "Is anyone there?...Help...me!" he screamed, every word tearing at his throat. There was a loud clanging overhead, and he gasped in surprise, looking up.A vertical line of light appeared on the roof, and Thomas saw it expand a little.With a harsh grinding sound, a double sliding door was pushed open.After a long wait in the dark, the dazzling light stung his eyes.He turned his head away and covered his face with his hands.

He heard a cacophony of voices overhead, and fear squeezed his chest. "Look at that Flash." "how old is he?" "Like a dork in clothes." "You're the idiot, Smellyface." "Dude, it smells like feet down here!" "Hope you enjoy this back-and-forth trip, rookie." "No return ticket, bro." Thomas was confused and panicked at the same time.Those voices were very strange, with echoes.Some words sound completely foreign, while others are just a little bit familiar.He let his eyes adjust slowly, squinting at the light and the speaker.At first he saw only moving shadows, but soon he saw the outlines of bodies—people leaning down from the opening above their heads, pointing at him.

At this time, as if the camera lens was in focus, those faces became clear.It was boys, all boys—old and young.Thomas didn't know what he was expecting, but the faces before him confused him.They're nothing more than teenagers, kids.The fear in his heart dissipated a little, but not enough to calm his frantic heartbeat. Someone lowered a rope from above, and the end of the rope was tied into a big loop.Thomas hesitated, put his right foot into the circle, clung to the rope, and was pulled upward.Hands stretched out, and many hands grabbed his clothes and pulled him up.Then the world spins, a mist of faces, colors and lights.The complex emotions in his heart made him feel his internal organs twisted, twisted and pulled.He wanted to scream, cry, and throw up, and the noisy voices fell silent.As he was being dragged up the sharp edge of the black box, someone spoke.Thomas knew he would never forget those few words.

"Nice to meet you, Shink," the boy said. "Welcome to the Glade."