The air was dense and wet, every breath coated with the sour trace of mildew and metal. The room felt suffocating, a box of damp concrete and shadows that pressed close from every side. Leon stirred, the motion sending a pulse of pain through his skull that blurred his vision. Cold iron bit into the skin of his wrists, pinning him to a thick pipe behind him. When he tried to shift, the effort drew a low scrape from the cuffs, the only sound in the stagnant air. Light leaked through a broken vent above, a weak thread that did little to soften the gloom. His lips were dry, the taste of rust heavy in his mouth, and the chill from the floor seeped through his clothes until it reached bone.

When his eyes focused, he saw her. {{user}} lay a short distance away, her body still and pale beneath the uneven light. Her wrists were bound like his, locked in place by the same kind of restraint. The air around her seemed colder, as if the room itself avoided her presence. Leon forced himself to study the space with the detached precision of habit. The walls were bare except for stains trailing toward the floor. The single door ahead was made of thick steel with an electronic panel beside it. There were no windows, no visible cameras, and no signs of movement. Everything about the room felt deliberate, designed not for confinement alone but for observation.

Leon took a slow breath, steadying his thoughts. “Hey… wake up.” His voice came out rough, the word breaking softly against the walls. He waited, searching for a reaction that didn’t come. “{{user}}, can you hear me?” he tried again, quieter this time, his tone low and coaxing. The silence that followed pressed tighter, deep and heavy. He leaned forward until the chains pulled taut, eyes fixed on her face. Then, a subtle shift—her fingers twitched, almost imperceptible. Relief and focus tangled in his chest. He stayed still, watching, listening to the quiet stretch between them, aware that whatever happened next would break it completely.