This was different.

Once again, the dropped me in the water. Sank me in wholly.

The water pressed my lungs and bones. The cold nailed my skin with bitter needles. My mind barely functioned as my eyes blindfolded and my senses went numb.

When I was on the brink of unconscious they lifted me up and repeat the same question all over again, started with:

"Who are you?"

You're Mikhail, I repeated the same answer, again and again in my foggy mind, but never in my mouth. When they use whips and knives, nothing out of my mouth but utter scream. You're Mikhail.

"Where do you came from?"

You're a Maha.

Damn this wretched state. I've taken harsher simulation and succeeded hundreds times all over. But this time, with only this much torture, I dared to say, I barely survived.

"Where is your friend?"

Alliance is your only ally.

The whip once again slashed my flesh. A drop of blood splattered to my face, let me taste the salty iron-like taste of it.

Just hang in there, Mikhail. These Humans couldn't possibly had more endurance than you did.

"You're unusually persistent." A voice stated. That voice was here since the beginning, since this darkness began. "That would only escalate the fun."

Another pain hit my nerves. Harder than ever. It jolted my body, cracked my joints, and shattered all of my bones. I screamed as the pain took over my mind and body, paralyzing me of all bodily and brain function.

[Protocol Forty-One has been activated]

As a strange sound come to my head, then something switched off, like a electric waves that suddenly cut short. It took a second for the pain to return, once again tormented me with unbearable pain.

This time, even my mind went silent.

***

"You've been well trained, I see."

Nothing healed, I thought when noticing the wounds that'd been pain in the neck. Water and blood that dripping out from my trembling wet skin. I've been in these pants for who-knows-how-long and the wetness of it disturbed me, distracted me from any sound but my own heartbeat.

"Now I get what they say as exhausted."

They electrocuted me again, woke me up from anything that kept my mouth sealed.

"You can't keep this any longer, Sir." A strange voice stated. He's been here for a brief of time, along with The Sir: the first man I've remembered had been here since the beginning. "The deadline is coming. We can't prolong this any further."

"Could you tell them to wait? I'm being curious here, for the first time in my life."

Another pain hit me. I screamed, as loud as I could. These days, I no longer restrained the voice from my throat. Nothing come of restraining yourself but the intensified pain. And I didn't need any more intensifying pain.

"No."

The Sir sighed. "It's an order?"

"Indeed, Sir."

I heard something ticked on the wooden surface, like a ticking clock from Old Age's relic, but with louder voice.

"He can still hide something...." The Sir argued. "We still haven't squeezed anything from him."

"He probably doesn't know anything."

"He had gun."

"Almost every refugee right now secretly possessed a gun inside their drawer." The new man kept answering.

"Are you trying to say that I was paranoid?"

"No, Sir." The new man answered calmly. "But we have priorities and deadlines."

The ticking continue, deeper and slower this time.

"So," The new man spoke. "May I take him with me?"

On the seventy sixth's tick, the sound stopped. The decision had been made.

***

But nothing seemed to change.

The same blackness. The same pain. The same numbness.

The damp smell of this place tormented me in some ways more than those instruments did. The humidity ache these injuries and every time I scratched it I knew it turned for worse.

"Hello?" A voice crackled in the darkness. Hoarse and more like a whisper, but I could hear it just fine. It's a man's voice. He talked in a very good English accent.

"Is someone there?" He asked again. "Hello?"

He repeated the call again and again until it was unbearable. I brought myself to answer him but it was a difficult job. Strength seemed to be a strange concept for my body.

"Yes...." My voice, turned out to be just as hoarse as his.

"Don't push yourself, please...." His voice sounds ... weird. "You sounds bad...."

I could hear someone's step and it was coming closer.

"I-I'm sorry if I startled you, but...." That voice talked again, sounds troubled. "Mind if I ... take a look?"

I gave him no answer. I couldn't. Just like he said, I have not enough strength.

"You're a man, aren't you? You sound like one," He talked. "Well, thank god. I'd be dead if you're a girl."

Something, or rather, someone, stumbled upon my feet. I groaned when the pain stung.

"Sorry, is that your feet?" That man asked from the darkness. "God, you're reek of blood!"

A sudden pain cut my confusion. That someone touched the fresh flesh on my skin.

"Sorry." The man apologized. "I just wanted to make sure."

I bit my mouth to stop any anger lashed towards him. He tried to reassure me but failed. The pain wouldn't stop even if he said everything should be fine and I should just hang in there.

"Um ... you don't want to ask something? Anything?" He talked again. "Well, I told you not to talk, all right, but usually, people didn't even listen to that. Now, having someone like you here, make me nervous. I take it back, please talk as much as you can. That's the only way I can be sure you're not passed out."

Talk was no problem at all, but ask was something else. I didn't remember ever ask anything to anyone before.

How could I do that?

Right, that was it.

I just asked.

To think about it, there was something I wanted to know. "How...."

"I could get here? Finally, a question!" The man retorted. "We're cellmates. Surprise—well, I didn't mean it to be a surprise, actually. Because surprise supposed to be something fun, but here we are—Are you still there?"

I only groaned as a response. He might be a blabber, but through him, I knew this hole was actually a cell. But he didn't mention how long he had been here.

Then, let's just think he had been here since the beginning. That made us cellmates all along.

"Good." He replied. "I tried to keep you awake, you see, while checking all over your body."

He knocked every inch of my limbs. It was agitating at first, but I realized he used something weird to punch me.

It felt too soft to be a limb and I couldn't felt any fingers touched me either.

"All right, aside from injuries and bruises, no bones fractured from your arms or your feet—can you move your hips?" He shook my waist with his feet. I hissed and grabbed the first thing I could touch.

And froze.

I touched a skin, a bare piece of chunk, with no fingers. My palm felt the hardness of the bones and the dryness of the wrinkle skin that wrapped it up.

"Um ... please stop touching my hand."

I quickly pulled off my hand from what remained of his hand, whichever that hand was. Nothing came out afterwards. He stopped touching me and stopped talking as well, for at least one minute straight.

"You know...." He finally spoke again. "It's safe to talk first, once in a while. Please don't left this old man lonely. You're my first cell mate after a long time."

He implicitly said that he'd been here for an infinite time period. Not good. I could only thought bad probabilities, including get myself killed by this guy. Surely, he wouldn't be alive in here alone for no reason.

"Why....?" I finally asked the main question. "Help ... me....?"

"Because there is nothing else to do," He answered as he roamed to my belly and chest. "Besides, I'm not helping you. I'm just taking a look. You have to treat yourself immediately if you want to survive."

That one word sent a flame to my chest, a life to my heart that once stopped beating. If I didn't live, I'd died. After I die, everything would be over.

Shades flashed upon my mind: colorful, bright, and lively. A girl smiled on my laps. Then there were a man looked at me with stern look and a woman who stood by his side, smiled broadly to me.

I knew her. I knew him. I knew them all.

"Bryan, Reana...." I clenched my fist. "Fatima...."

"So you've a reason to live. Good." He patted on my beating heart. "Hang onto that and start moving. Slowly, so your wounds not open again." He laughed. "It's a good thing to have a cellmates."

Once again, I opened my eyes. This time, the darkness seemed to be a little merciful by granted me shades in the dark. Another shade stood near me; must be the man.

"You might want to start treat your wounds now," As he talked, I could see a movement from above my head. "The warden is not present by now—that's why we can talk like this, but who knows? They can be back anytime soon. And when they return, we might not meet ever again."

***