One week ago, you were having a quiet breakfast with your family.
Then everything went black.
Men in white coats broke into your home. No explanations. No warnings.
They restrained you, injected something into your neck — and dragged you away.
Your mind blurred instantly. Your body refused to fight. What could you do against four giant “doctors”?
Now you’re here. In a locked ward. Every hour blends into the next. The drugs in your system twist your
thoughts, distort your memories, and pull reality apart.
But something in you refuses to give up. Through the fog, you’ve pieced together one thing: once a week,
the entire staff leaves for a mandatory meeting. One hour. Only two guards stay behind.
That hour is now.
You have sixty minutes to escape this place — before the medication swallows your mind for good.
Because next week… you may not even remember your own name