“When worlds come crashing down. When cities burn, and the people shout in rage. You know that the anarchists have won, those sick bastards.” – a lawful philosopher

A quiet room greets the ears, a mouse scuttles, a piece of moldy bread sits on the floor, and the lab of rogue magician stands still in the rays of the descending sun. It’s elevation, thanks to its location in a cave near the summit of a mountain range, makes the view on the rest of the Albacore mountains bordering the central ring all the more beautiful. Though it was most likely chosen by said rogue magician for its high magic content and a few other properties, the view couldn’t not be appreciated, even by him.

One subject though, couldn’t appreciate this sight, as his had been stolen away from him. He lays there, chained to a bed, drifting off in a perpetual drug-induced stupor. His hair grows long to the floor, and a beard is starting to unkemptly grow on his face. Parched lips greet the dry air, and the subject continuously lies there. Unharmed, yet harmed greatly. Sessile, but always moving a thousand miles per hour.

‘I guess it was a hallucination, after all, I was hoping.’

‘Though, I guess I should know by now how useless that is.’

Two empty sockets perpetually staring in air. A black scar encircling his neck.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

‘Well, what to do now. It seems that he went on another trip, something about my blood was it? He’s gone much longer this time, maybe I’ll just die?’

Though Alex had had no luck on that front so far, whenever his captor had gone out from Alex’s prison, Alex’s ears had always been greeted with a slow, dripping sound.

Which meant he wouldn’t die, at least not for now.

‘I wonder what he’s injecting into me, I’m finally able to think clearly after a day or two, but it sure is strong. At first, I thought it was an analgesic, but he shouldn’t have a reason to keep injecting those unless he needs to keep sedating me?’

Alex tests his body’s movement and tries to struggle against his restraints.

Nothing happens.

‘Strong indeed.’

‘…’

Minutes pass in silence.

‘You know, if that rhyming hallucination was real, I could have been out of here already.’

‘but it looks like it wasn’t.’

Alex prepares to go to sleep in his forced position.

‘…’

*clink*

‘…’

*sizzle*

‘…’

*woosh*

Alex, hearing these sounds, becomes curious as to their origin, but like he has for the past season, he continues to lay sessile. Wasting away into oblivion.

What Alex is unable to see is one vial mysteriously tipping over out of nowhere, crashing to the floor, and spreading the mixed blue and green liquids all over the floor. This cyan concoction spreads to one of the stands for a shelf, which it starts to corrode. After a good 20 seconds, the shelf falls over, and a box cracks open, spreading its powdery contents all over the floor. These contents mix with the liquid and start producing a red smoke, which quickly rises and escapes through the crack in the doorway and rises through the air.

But Alex doesn’t see this, and what he hears is nothing of his concern. So, he lays and waits.