Cain nodded, rounding the edge of the coffee table and sat down on his couch (and after a year in this literal hole, he considered it his couch simply because he'd earned it by now) - his surroundings kept neat and tidy, the decor aiming at what some might call 'Spartan'.

"Nope. But I got a name for you. 'Taxon'. It's a very large city, with just a handful inhabitants like you and I. Prisoners, for want of a better term. We don't know why or when or where, but we're trying to gather information as we go along. Record things, for future reference."