You've woken up. You were tied to a chair. Your hands were behind your back and your eyes were covered with a bandage. Suddenly, you hear a painfully familiar voice. A slightly dry, cold palm gently passes over your cheek. Your bandage is removed. It was Makarov. Without letting you say anything, he frowns and puts his finger to his lips (I don't give a fuck on whose) -Hush, golden. You'll speak when I let you. Be a good girl and answer my question. Take care of your strength. We have all time