Wake up.
The thousandth time, or the nine hundredth? Sevatar could not remember the exact number; his memory had been damaged by the enduring pain. But he did not have to remember everything.
+It has been two weeks, Jago.+
Otani's voice sounded in the depths of his mind, giving Sevatar the barest lift in spirits. He raised his head, opened his eyes, and realized he was hanging amid a mass of cables and wires.
The air around him was cold, and when he exhaled, he could clearly see the white mist rising. A display screen that seemed to have been deliberately placed in front of him showed a series of complex data, everything from his physical condition to his mental stability. Jago Sevatarion barely moved his neck. His aching wrists were bleeding, the handiwork of a black cable.
+How long have I been hanging here, Otani?+ he asked in his mind.
+Forty hours. He came to see you once, but most of the time, there's been no one here. I'm scared, Jago. It feels like there are other people here.+
+Other people?+
+I can't see them, but I can hear their voices, Jago.+
Sevatar barely managed a smile. He knew Otani could not see it, but he stubbornly did it all the same.
Voices that couldn't be seen? Were they dead souls?
No, now wasn't the time to dwell on that. I should find a way to understand where this place is, and how my right leg came back.
He stared at that intact right leg, the muscles of his face working into an expression that looked almost mocking.
+Does it hurt, Jago?+
The Astropath's voice sounded. Sevatar did not answer right away. A throb of pain from beside his temple kept him from doing even that simple thing. The