The passage of time within the sterile walls of the laboratory was a blur—a muddled mix of days and nights that melded into a single, unending moment of torment.
Each tick of the clock was a reminder of the relentless march of time, a relentless drumbeat of despair that echoed through the cavernous halls of his captivity.
"Was it 4 or 5 years? I don't remember properly, but the experiments continued," Noel's voice was a hollow echo, the sound of a soul worn down by relentless trials.
Each word carried the weight of countless hours spent in the crucible of experimentation, each syllable a testament to the enduring agony of his existence.
Dustin's question pierced the veil of the past, a beacon seeking understanding in the darkness.
His voice was a mix of curiosity and dread, a reflection of the uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of our shared reality.
"For what purpose was that experiment? Do you have any idea?" he asked, his words hanging in the air like a pall of smoke, thick with the scent of unanswered questions and unspoken fears.
Noel's eyes, once vibrant with defiance, now held a glimmer of resignation, like fading embers struggling to retain their warmth amidst the encroaching darkness.
The light that once danced within them had dimmed, replaced by a weary acceptance of his fate, a silent surrender to the relentless tide of circumstance.
"You know, generally people start awakening in their puberty. And only a minority of the population has been successfully awakened," he explained, his words carrying the weight of a world grappling with the elusive mysteries of evolution.
Each syllable was a brushstroke on the canvas of his suffering, painting a portrait of a society teetering on the brink of discovery and despair.
"So those experiments were conducted to know more about awakening, and as I was someone who awakened abnormally too quickly, I was ideal as the research subject," Noel continued, his tone matter-of-fact, belying the gravity of his ordeal.
His voice was a hollow echo of the vibrant spirit that had once animated him, a stark reminder of the toll that years of captivity and experimentation had taken on his soul.
The question of escape hung in the air like a fragile promise, a silent testament to the indomitable human spirit that refused to be shackled by the chains of oppression.
Each syllable reverberated in the sterile confines of the interrogation room, carrying with it the weight of countless untold stories of resilience and defiance.
"How did you escape from there?" Dustin asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the delicate balance of hope and despair that hung in the air like a fragile thread.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Noel's lips, a rare moment of warmth amidst the cold recounting of his past trials.
"Eventually, I formed a friend, and he helped me," he said, his voice tinged with a quiet reverence for the bond forged in the crucible of adversity.
It was a simple statement, but its implications resonated deeply, echoing the resilience of the his spirit.
Dustin leaned in, intrigued by the mention of this mysterious ally.
"Who was that friend?" he pressed, sensing the significance of the name yet to be spoken.
His curiosity hung in the air like a tangible presence, a silent plea for answers amidst the shadows of uncertainty.
Noel's gaze drifted, a flicker of remembrance passing over his features like a fleeting shadow.
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"His name was... umm.. yeah, Sauron," he said, the name falling from his lips like a key to a long-locked door, unlocking memories of camaraderie and salvation amidst the backdrop of despair.
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Time had become a nebulous concept, its passage marked not by the gentle ticking of a clock or the changing of seasons, but by the relentless cycle of experimentation that had come to define my existence.
It has been 4 or was it 5?
I mused to himself, the exact count lost in the haze of his captivity.
Damn hell!
The passage of time had become a cruel joke, a relentless tormentor that mocked my futile attempts to cling to the remnants of his shattered reality.
Nonetheless, it has been 5 years since I was brought to this facility.
Five long years of captivity, each one blending seamlessly into the next like brushstrokes on a canvas of endless despair.
Each day was a repetition of the last, a monotonous parade of white coats and probing instruments that invaded my sanctum with ruthless efficiency.
The scientists, detached in their pursuit of knowledge, saw me not as a person but as a subject—a specimen to be dissected and studied with clinical precision.
Their eyes, hidden behind layers of sterile masks and impassive expressions, held no trace of empathy or compassion, only a cold hunger for the secrets that lay buried within his tortured psyche.
After the cold scrutiny of the lab, the prison cell awaited—a stark, unforgiving space that served as my only sanctuary from the probing eyes and hands of his captors.
The walls, stripped bare of any comfort or solace, loomed over me like silent sentinels, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch on for eternity.
"I will escape soon, you goons," my voice echoed defiantly off the barren walls as the guards threw him behind the bars with a casual disregard for his humanity.
My words were a battle cry, a declaration of defiance against the oppressive forces that sought to crush my spirit beneath their steel-toed boots.
"Idiot," one guard sneered, the insult dripping with contempt as he slammed the cell door shut with a resounding clang.
The sound reverberated through the cramped confines of the cell, a mocking echo of my defiance that lingered in the air like a bitter aftertaste.
You're an idiot.
I thought bitterly, my inner voice a roar against the demeaning label.
Each syllable cut like a knife, carving deep wounds into my already battered psyche.
But amidst the pain and humiliation, a flicker of defiance burned bright within me, a stubborn refusal to surrender to the dehumanizing cruelty of these fuckers.
"You're lucky that you're not dead unlike others," the other guard remarked, his words a grim reminder of the fate that befell those who were no longer deemed useful.
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a chilling reminder of the precariousness of my existence within the brutal confines of the prison cell.
But I was not deterred.
Each word, each taunt, only fueled the fire within me—a burning determination to reclaim his freedom and prove that I was no one's pawn.
The guards might see me as just another number, another test subject but I know who I am.
I am Noel and I won't be defeated.
The words tumbled from my lips, a bitter dismissal laced with the venom of my frustration.
"Whatever, get lost now," I spat out, the disdain dripping from every syllable like acid, corroding the air with its toxic intensity.
Each word was a weapon, a defiant proclamation of my refusal to bow to their authority.
I was acutely aware of the guard's implications, the unspoken truth that hung in the air like a noxious cloud.
I wasn't the sole plaything in their twisted games; there were others, many others, and some had already succumbed to the darkness of death.
Their faces haunted my thoughts, ghostly reminders of the high cost of defiance in a world ruled by cruelty and indifference.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine, a cold whisper of mortality that danced along the edges of my consciousness.
To die here, forgotten and alone, was a fate I refused to accept.
Escape was not just a desire—it was a necessity, a burning imperative that I could not ignore.
But as the urgency took hold, a strange lightheadedness washed over me.
A dizzying sensation that clouded my thoughts and weakened my resolve.
It was as if the very air around me had grown thick with the weight of impending doom, pressing down upon me with suffocating force.
"You're quite interesting," a voice whispered, its words a haunting echo that seemed to bypass my ears and resonate directly within my skull.
It was a voice filled with madness, a siren call that both intrigued and terrified me in equal measure.
Its presence hung in the air like a shroud of darkness.
Suffusing the space around me with an ominous energy that sent tendrils of fear snaking through my veins.
I scanned my surroundings, my eyes darting from shadow to shadow in search of the source of the voice.
But I was met with nothing but the echoing cries of my fellow captives, their voices a cacophony of despair that mingled with the chill wind that swept across the barren landscape.
"Who is there?"
I demanded, my voice a mix of fear and defiance, the words echoing into the void with a hollow resonance.
But in response, reality itself seemed to warp and twist, the fabric of the world unraveling before my eyes like a frayed tapestry.
The prison walls melted away, dissolving into the ether as a vast expanse unfolded before me, revealing a desolate planet stretched out in all its ruinous glory.
I stood transfixed, my heart hammering in my chest as I gazed upon the barren wasteland that lay before me.
It was a sight both breathtaking and terrifying, a landscape of desolation and despair that seemed to stretch on into infinity.
And as the weight of my surroundings bore down upon me like a crushing weight, I knew that I had stumbled upon something far more sinister than mere hallucination—a truth that lay buried beneath the surface of reality, waiting to be uncovered.
"Let me introduce myself," the voice returned, a thread of amusement woven through its tone, like a sinister melody playing on the wind.
I turned, my heart pounding in my chest, searching for the source of the voice.
And there he was—or it was. A figure which felt both familiar and alien, a slim humanoid with three lethal claws protruding from his hand, stood among the rubble like a specter risen from the ashes of this desolate world.
His sharp blue eyes, ablaze with an otherworldly intensity, pierced through me, seeing past the flesh and bone to the very essence of my being.
"My name is Sauron," he declared, his voice resonating with a strange power that seemed to echo through the barren landscape, sending shivers down my spine.
His presence was an enigma wrapped in the mystery of this shattered world, a figure both terrifying and captivating in equal measure.
The name hung in the air like a portent of fate, a name that promised both danger and salvation, a beacon in the darkness that had become my life.
As I gazed upon him, a whirlwind of emotions swept through me—a mix of fear and fascination, uncertainty and hope.
There was something about him, something ineffable and indomitable, that drew me in despite the instinctual urge to flee.