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I knew I would generate body heat if I moved, but I had no energy to make the effort. I desperately wanted to sleep through the discomfort, but the barrage of changing lights and sounds denied me even the tiniest reprieve. Why is he doing this? How long can I take this torture? Will I make it out of this room alive? Will I ever see Fen again? Fen—the man who had survived hundreds of years of harsh conditions. My heart broke for him all over again. What inconceivable hardships had he endured throughout his exile? If he could survive his trials, I would survive mine. I would not give up, even if just for him. I resorted to what had worked so well for me back home when my worries weighed me down. I submerged myself in the memories of my times with Fen. If I couldn’t escape physically, I would
- Writer
