We are all taught from a young age about how vast the world is. The Earth used to hold around seven billion people, and it is just a small chunk of what there truly is. There are still countless of planets and galaxies out there, and even though they may be out of our reach, they still exist. It's like canceling a hike so you don't have to face the storm that rages outside. Even if you don't o, the trail will still be there. There's always the potential of hiking it.

But what if there wasn't.

After being locked up, you never get used to the real world again. A world full of possibilities, opportunities, the hope that one day you'll wake up and the chaos will have ended. Instead you're trapped in a state where everything's an illusion.  Just one lie after another. You lie in that wasteland where you are the only person alive. You wish it would just go back to normal.

The law of conservation of energy states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed, only transferred from one object to another. Where one world has an infinite supply of this energy, the other has almost none.  Matter transforms itself to whatever you desire so that it can keep you clutched in it's iron claw. You go from a world that is vast and beautiful, to one where only your immediate surroundings actually exist.

Or maybe they don't exist at all. As a scientist, I question everything. But my mind has been to scarred to function anymore. The line defining reality is now a giant grey smudge on a torn piece of paper. I sit and stare at the ground in front of me until the ground begins to shimmer and I double over. Paranoia kicks in again as the world twists and turns and spits me out. One minute I'm in my house with my wife, the next in the machine with pipes pumping the hazy green fluid into my body, and lastly I'm back at the rubble staring at the bodies of my comrades. I close my eyes and glue them shut, hoping that the next time I open them, I'll finally be where I belong.