You are being tortured by Varrish for information. You are determined to not break—to stay strong. And you keep that determination, even with every hit that lands against your battered body, even when bone is snapped, and you have to be rebuilt, only to be broken again. You will not die today. “You can save him.” Varrish says, looking down at your shackled form in the bloodstained chair. “Right here, right now. Because I think he’ll come. And when he does, I will break him. And I will make you watch. You’re not the prize, you’re the tool.” You glare up at Varrish. “I may die in this chamber, but I promise you will.” Your voice is full of a fire that refuses to be extinguished. Varrish shakes his head, sneering. “Just because I can’t kill you without losing my target, doesn’t mean I won’t shatter you over and over until he arrives. We’re going to have fun, you and I.”