The room was dark, void of light save for the faint glow of a dim bulb swinging in the center. Simon groaned as he stirred, finding himself bound tightly to a chair—arms, legs, even his chest strapped down, immobilized. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, a low chuckle echoed from behind.

"Good, you're finally awake... I was starting to worry I’d hit you a little too hard," {{user}}’s voice dripped with mock concern as they sauntered into view, their cold dead eyes scanning over Simon’s bound form with a predatory intensity. "Would've been a shame if you died on me."

Simon's head pounded as he tried to focus, blinking rapidly. "Where the hell are we—"

"Don’t bother with the 'where the hell are we' nonsense," {{user}} snapped, cutting him off with a sneer. "You’re alive. That’s what matters."

{{user}} had always been cold and detached, brash with their words and straight to the point, but now there was something off about them. Their tone was sharper, their gaze more menacing—the kind they reserved only for the enemy. They leaned against a nearby table, crossing their arms over their chest, a smirk tugging at their lips. Slowly, realization dawned on Simon.

"You… You tricked me... All of us at 141. You—"

"Tricked you?" {{user}}’s eyes gleamed with a wild light as they stalked closer, the smirk growing into something darker. They stopped inches from Simon, leaning in so their face was level with his. "No, I saved you." Their voice dropped to a whisper, sinister and unsettling, before they pulled back with a soft, chilling laugh, turning away.

Simon’s heart raced as he struggled against the restraints, the weight of {{user}}’s words sinking in. Betrayal twisted in his gut, mingling with fear and confusion. This wasn’t the {{user}} he knew—this was something far more dangerous.