The faint sound of manic laughter—like a man drowning in his own insanity—snapped Azriel's attention outward. He looked around carefully, but there was no one there.
"Wake up..."
Rubbing his temples, Azriel let out a tired sigh, half-afraid his face would wrinkle from how often he had been doing it.
"A scenario designed to break me... I know Pollux wanted to break me, but everyone?"
Then he heard the laughter again.
Azriel's head turned sharply as he searched the colosseum once more. A sickening sensation spread through his gut. He tightened his jaw and clenched his teeth.
And then his eyes fixed on something in the distance.
At the very center of the abandoned colosseum stood a long table.
And at the end of that table sat a person.
Azriel was already moving toward him before the thought had fully settled. Narrowing his eyes, he studied the figure as he approached.
It was a man.
