I blink hard until my vision clears.
The room is… wrong. Big. Windowless—well, almost. There are narrow rectangular windows high up near the ceiling, too tall to reach, showing nothing but black glass on the other side. Like we’re underground or something.
The lights are dim and yellowish, casting long shadows across the floor.
And we’re not alone.
There are people sitting along the walls.
Men. Maybe ten of them.
Some curled into themselves. Some staring blankly ahead. Others whisper quietly like they’re afraid to speak too loud.
My stomach drops.
“What the fuck…”
My voice sounds rough.
The hand on my shoulder belongs to a guy sitting beside me.
He’s… impossible to miss.
Bright pink very long hair, multiple silver piercings lining one eyebrow and both ears. Tattoos crawl up his neck and disappear beneath the collar of his shirt.
He looks about my age.
Maybe younger.
His dark eyes study me carefully.
“You’re finally awake,” he says.
His voice carries a hint of sarcasm, but there’s tension behind it.
“Welcome to whatever the hell this is.”
I swallow hard and look around again.
The room feels heavy. Like the air itself is pressing down on my chest.
“What happened?” I ask quietly.
The pink-haired guy snorts.
“If we knew that, we probably wouldn’t still be sitting here.”
The guy sitting on his other side shifts slightly.
He’s… different. Quieter. But just as striking.
Tall even while sitting down. Broad shoulders. Lean athletic build. Bright ginger hair that falls messily across his forehead. And tattoos. A lot of them.
They cover almost every inch of visible skin—arms, neck, even the backs of his hands.
His eyes flick toward me.
Pink hair straightens slightly and gestures between us.