You awake to the putrid stench of decomposing flesh

Welcome to oblivion

Do not pray, for salvation won't come

Your savior does not dwell in this place

So turn your back on your faith

It only further holds you captive

You are the bastard dying children of this race

Turn your back on all faith

A desensitized state of consciousness disables every attempt to recall your origin

The sight and pungence of scorched human remnants foreshadow the purpose of containment

Showing symptoms of the afflicted ones, you're forcibly secluded from the general populous

Restrained, sedated, and internally tested

Archaic instruments have penetrated flesh

Painfully extracting blood in search of virulent, crimson spray stains the walls

Their draining torture device induces seizure

Vital signs are weakened

Sickness flows from every artery

There is no hope of survival for the diseased

You are the bastard dying children of this race

Condemned and left in quarantine

There is no hope for survival

Sickness flows from every artery

Embrace oblivion

You are the bastard dying children of this race