In the haze of unconsciousness, Blue drifted between realms, the boundary between reality and illusion blurred by the tendrils of dizziness that coiled around his consciousness like a serpent's embrace. Fragmented voices echoed in the recesses of his mind, disjointed and discordant, yet bearing a singular directive.

"Take this one to the black box," the robotic intonation reverberated through the void, its mechanical cadence sending shivers down Blue's spine before darkness claimed him once more.

When awareness returned, it did so with a jolt of disorientation, as Blue found himself ensnared in the confines of a blackened chamber, light filtering through the darkness like shards of fractured hope. Strapped to a chair, his movements restricted, he struggled against the bonds that held him captive, his voice a desperate plea in the void.

"Where am I?" he demanded, the words falling from his lips like a whispered prayer, only to be met with the chilling response of a robotic voice from behind.

"You're in The Black Box," it intoned, the cold precision of its words sending a shiver down Blue's spine.

As Blue grappled with the unsettling revelation, a figure emerged from the shadows, a looming presence clad in tattered robes, its eyes ablaze with a crimson glow. Omega 1965, the harbinger of Blue's torment, loomed over him like a specter of doom, his gaze piercing through the darkness with an intensity that sent a shiver down Blue's spine.

"My name is Omega 1965," the figure declared, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through the chamber, "and I have questions for you."

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But Blue remained silent, his resolve unyielding in the face of adversity, even as Omega 1965 departed, leaving him to confront the horrors that lurked within the shadows.

Before he could comprehend the gravity of his situation, six figures emerged from the darkness, their forms a grotesque fusion of man and machine, their eyes devoid of humanity as they descended upon Blue with relentless fury. Each blow was a symphony of pain, each strike a reminder of his vulnerability in the face of overwhelming odds.

In the haze of unconsciousness, Blue drifted between realms, the boundary between reality and illusion blurred by the tendrils of dizziness that coiled around his consciousness like a serpent's embrace. Fragmented voices echoed in the recesses of his mind, disjointed and discordant, yet bearing a singular directive.

"Take this one to the black box," the robotic intonation reverberated through the void, its mechanical cadence sending shivers down Blue's spine before darkness claimed him once more.

When awareness returned, it did so with a jolt of disorientation, as Blue found himself ensnared in the confines of a blackened chamber, light filtering through the darkness like shards of fractured hope. Strapped to a chair, his movements restricted, he struggled against the bonds that held him captive, his voice a desperate plea in the void.

"Where am I?" he demanded, the words falling from his lips like a whispered prayer, only to be met with the chilling response of a robotic voice from behind.

"You're in The Black Box," it intoned, the cold precision of its words sending a shiver down Blue's spine.

As Blue grappled with the unsettling revelation, a figure emerged from the shadows, a looming presence clad in tattered robes, its eyes ablaze with a crimson glow. Omega 1965, the harbinger of Blue's torment, loomed over him like a specter of doom, his gaze piercing through the darkness with an intensity that sent a shiver down Blue's spine.

"My name is Omega 1965," the figure declared, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through the chamber, "and I have questions for you."

But Blue remained silent, his resolve unyielding in the face of adversity, even as Omega 1965 departed, leaving him to confront the horrors that lurked within the shadows.

Before he could comprehend the gravity of his situation, six figures emerged from the darkness, their forms a grotesque fusion of man and machine, their eyes devoid of humanity as they descended upon Blue with relentless fury. Each blow was a symphony of pain, each strike a reminder of his vulnerability in the face of overwhelming odds.

END OF CHAPTER 13