Aerith lay on the soft bed after he had regained his conscienceness, his senses were still dull and his body weak. He was somewhere in an infirmary— that much he could tell. His bed was encased in a wall of white corners that covered four corners preventing him from seeing beyond it.
In the short while he had been awake he could hear sounds, people running around and making loud noises. Occasionally there would be screams that caused him to shiver.
He was currently hooked up to a machine that read his heart rate and blood pressure. He stared at it for a long time wondering why such piece of technology existed there. He never thought the tower would harbor technology at all— yet here it was, humming softly beside him.
Left alone, Aerith began to ponder the meaning of life— not because he sought wisdom, but because, for the first time since entering the tower, he had a moment to breathe.
