In Dysnia, you are greeted by a sea of faces, unrecognizable in the shadows. Each face betrays nothing, remaining blank in the flickering twilight; each face remains fixed forward as people walk towards their destinations. One by one, the inhabitants of Dysnia slip into passageways: steep, twining labyrinths covered in cobwebs. You follow them, bending forward onto your hands and knees and entering one of the passageways, climbing upwards silently like so many of your fellow climbers. Your hands grasp onto a ledge and you twist yourself up, turning behind to watch the mass of humanity below you, silently climbing. Reaching the top of the passageway, you step into a room and stop. People exit the labyrinth behind you, and you tap one on the shoulder. He turns to you, his face motionless. Opening your mouth to speak, you realize you have to clear it of cobwebs, and do so mechanically, one layer at a time, for they have built up over your time in the passageway. The man waits impassively for you to finish, staring at you blankly. Finally, clearing your throat, you speak to him.
"Where is everyone going?" you ask, gesturing to the sea of faces surrounding you. The man looks at you blankly, and silently removes the cobwebs from his own mouth.
"To church," he rasps, his voice cracking from disuse.
"To church?" you ask.
"To work," he says.
"To church?" you question. "Or to work?"
"To school," he replies.
"And to the hospital, and to the bank, and to their homes?" you inquire. The man merely nods.
"So they are all going to different places," you surmise.
"No," he explains. "All are one." And, looking around, you see you are in the same place you began, looking at the same sea of faces, unrecognizable in the same flickering shadows. You enter the same passageway, grasping the same ledges, entering the same rooms. You have become one with Dysnia.