As you connect the final wire, the recorder's old screen flickers a few times and spits out the first line of text. It's an inpatient list, and the missing part is exactly the name column. The machine is very specific: the Admission Register, the paper one, lying on the Medical Equipment Table at the hospital's entrance reception. Bed numbers and admission dates packed tight, and every one of them was once a living person. You have to bring it back, or these people will be nothing but bed numbers. Once you have it, bring it home and press "Upload" on the recorder to read it in. Only then can the gap be filled.

The registration desk of the abandoned hospital holds a dusty patient registry. Its pages are dense with names, bed numbers, and admission dates... Each one was once a living, breathing person.