(Author's suggested chapter song: Jóhann Jóhannsson – "The Beast")
.....
It was night, but the security lights from the prison kept the general environment bright.
Cold met Soren the moment he stepped beyond the main gates.
It was not the sharp, biting kind of cold of high mountains.
It was the slow, sinking kind that crept through one's cloth and bone alike.
Winter had pressed deeper into the land while he had been caged.
His breath fogged the air with every exhale, pale mist blooming and vanishing before him.
The cadet uniform he had worn when he was brought here had been torn and bloodied.
So he left it behind with the version of himself that had entered this place in chains.
Instead, he wore clothes he had paid for with prison points.
Soren wore a fitted shirt beneath a long black coat that reached his calves; its weight was a bit heavy, but against the growing cold, it was quite reassuring.
