He was naked and trembling.
His eyes blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
His mind was foggy, filled with fragments of something he couldn't quite grasp.
The air around him was cold, and the place was dark.
It filled him with fear.
Footsteps echoed.
The child turned toward the sound.
A tall man walked forward from the shadows.
He stepped into the light cast by the cube's fading glow.
He had long black hair, deep red eyes, two horns that curved slightly from his forehead, and a face that had uncanny similarity to the child.
"Stand up."
He tossed something at the boy's feet.
A sword.
It clattered as it hit the ground, and the metal ring against the stone.
The noise frightened the child, who didn't understand what was happening.
"Stand up and pick up the sword."
The boy didn't move.
His legs trembled, his arms twitched, but he stayed crouched on the ground, too afraid to act.
Then came the whispers.
"Why isn't he responding?"
