Marco's POV
The heavy door of the holding cell creaked open, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I took a breath that didn't taste like metal. The world outside, bright and bustling, seemed so different. I couldn't recall how long I had been locked in that sterile hellhole, but it had been long enough to shake me to my core.
I didn't recognize the man who walked out of those bars. My body was stiff from lack of movement, my mind clouded with too many things I couldn't quite grasp. The arrogance, the unshakable confidence that had always defined me seemed distant now, like it belonged to someone else. The accusations of me being a bandit still clinged to me, suffocating me in ways I couldn't explain. I wasn't innocent in the eyes of the world, and for a moment, I doubted myself for being loose.
