The Plague of Justinian (542)

Your whole body hurts, especially where your bones come into contact with the cold tile beneath you. You can hear someone wailing in the distance.
After groaning for a full minute, you manage to roll over and open one eye. It's f***ing bright and your head aches. Dozens of perfectly aligned arches allow sunlight to stream in through the tallest ceiling you've ever seen. The Hagia Sophia, f***ing beautiful. You reach for your flask---it's gone.
You pat your pockets---empty.
You feel your head--ouch. Blood.
"Looks like you've been enjoying yourself with the rest of the city's hedonists." To your right stands a robed figure with a black beard. You squint at him. "Come along," he says, offering a hand, "let's get you some water." The wailing in the distance grows louder.