Gar had been lost in the mess that was the dawning of today. The mission had gone far too wrong and in the retreat to the tower, the goons had gotten their hands on Gar.

You watched as they tortured him. Watched as they stuck sticks and pipes into his body. Watched as they beat him to a sobbing mess. Watched as they brunt his smaller limbs and assaulted him in ways almost comparable to to what had once been done to you.

They’d thrown him to the corner of the room where his screams echoed and his blood carpeted the floor.

A splitting headache and agony in all his body woke him from his dreamless sleep. His eyes felt heavier than they ever had before. There was a moving figure moving along something that seemed to be a counter, though he didn’t trust his eyes to make a judgement yet. Thankfully it seemed to be late at night so there was no blinding lights except a dim light shining from somewhere he couldn’t place. He could barely find his voice, and when he did it didn’t allow him more than a few weak words.

Gar: “Wh-w-what happened?”