'How long had it been?'
The question arrived in his mind in a small, detached voice that did not seem to belong to him.
He had been hung from four crystalline chains in the spread-eagle posture of a sacrificial lamb.
He had been hanging there for — how long? —
He could no longer be certain whether it had been twenty minutes or two hours or longer than two hours, because everything had stopped meaning anything to his concussed sight some time ago, and the only thing he could feel was the patient sequence of impacts arriving from the ten Titans walking their slow patient circle around him.
Sometime in the early going he had told himself it was survivable. That the lesson was a thing he could take while he found a way out.
