The knock, knock on the stall door brought him back to reality.

Where am I? Adam asked himself, trying to piece together his broken memories of the last... Two hours! He stared at the old Nokia in disbelief. How did I get here?

Even with his head hurting, like a beating heart inside his skull, it didn't take him long to realize he was in a public restroom. The pervasive smell of piss and the lewd jokes on the walls left no room for doubt.

What happened on the train?

When he tried to remember, the jolt of pain was so blunt he jerked his head to the side.

"Dude! Hurry."

Through the gap below the stall door, Adam saw the shadow of a man shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Just a minute."

His throat hurt when he spoke, as if he'd screamed for hours. I can't stop shaking. A part of him wanted to stay in there, hidden.

"I'm shitting my pants!"

Right after Adam stepped outside, the other guy got in the stall so fast his face became a blur. A second later, an explosive farting noise was all the incentive needed to get away from there.

"Dear God," Adam whispered as he encountered his reflection in the stained mirror. Paler than usual, with a trickle of blood coming out of his left ear and wearing a torn sweatshirt, he seemed to belong on an autopsy table more than any other place. "My watches are intact. My promise remains unbroken."

"Don't pass out," said an old man sitting on a wretched plastic chair near the door, a surly expression on his face.

"I'm fine."

"Uh-huh. Right..." he said in a skeptical tone. "At least you are talking now."

"I—"

"You haven't paid."

At a loss as to how to respond to this, he gave him a reluctant nod. A clogged toilet, two broken urinals, small puddles below the sinks, yellowish floor tiles framed by crusted stains... Not even a cockroach would dare to come here after dusk. Adam had dealt with people who charged for using public restrooms before, but he'd never met one so shameless.

"No bowel movement, no cash. That's my policy."

"Then smoke," the old man pointed to some cigarettes next to a few wrinkled bills and a roll of toilet paper near him. "That does the trick for me. I'll give you a discount."

"Wait," Adam washed the blood off his ear. "You said I didn't speak when I came in?"

"Not a peep. You stormed in like a zombie and locked yourself there."

Failing to concentrate, his thoughts jumbled together, Adam gave money to the old man and headed out the door.

So I'm at a gas station.

He knew the area.

"It's near the Paseo Los Ilustres."

As he walked to the Faculty of Medicine, his headache moved to his stomach and made him vomit. After emptying his insides on a sidewalk, the murmur of the passing vehicles became almost pleasant and his mind cleared up.

Once the green areas surrounding the highway were behind him and the three-legged clock tower greeted him by ringing its loud bells, Adam decided it didn't matter how he got there.

I'm here and that's not nothing.

He wanted to sit down, figure out what had happened after the power blackout, but akin to remembering a night of heavy drinking, the missing pieces of the afternoon refused to take shape in his mind.

When Adam arrived on campus, he was glad to find the all too familiar metal sign letters that read "Anatomical Institute". It is weird being back. He'd never considered studying medicine, despite his grandfather's wishes, but this place had been his backyard during the Mission Phidias internship.

"That's the bower where Evi and I used to sit," he said, his face alive with mirth for the first time in days.

Not every corner brought him good memories, however.

As usual, he avoided the Narvaéz macabre ceramic mural depicting an enormous skinned man surrounded by doctors with pointy faces dressed in white.

I can't shake the feeling it follows me with his eyes, Adam thought. As if he's waiting for someone, anyone to save him from those little humanoid figures.

He made a right turn, convinced it would be the shortest route to get to Rafael's office. To his surprise, the long fluorescent corridor led to the exit.

Wait, Adam looked around, puzzled. I'm sure this should be it.

A group of students changed their course to avoid him and he couldn't blame them; he was far from resembling a functional human being. After a few minutes of meandering, Adam could have sworn the insights of the building had twisted somehow.

A labyrinth.

"Are you a student?"

Adam turned around to find a tall man wearing a combat dress uniform carrying a FN FAL assault rifle.

A National Guardsman?

"No. I'm looking for a doctor."

"I bet you are," the soldier eyed him from head to foot with great curiosity.

"I'll be on my way, sir."

"Citizen, your ID."

"What?"

"Show me your ear!"

An icy shiver went down Adam's backbone.

"What did you say?"

The National Guardsman put his hand on his rifle.

"Come with me."