INT. Lumon Industries

An innie is born fully clothed, lying on a conference room table, the voice of God (their manager) coming to them from a speaker. The table is pleasantly ovular, the walls padded — perhaps sound-proof, in case they scream and disturb their fellow employees. They wake up with knowledge and without memories, able to name a state but not the colour of their mother's eyes. The world they are born into…