When he woke, Kallen found himself sitting with his back against the cell wall. His neck felt a little sore, and he instinctively reached behind it and gently kneaded it.
He must have fallen asleep, but he had not slept well. It felt as though he had had a very long dream, with an annoying insect constantly flying back and forth right before his eyes, forcing him to keep blinking to drive it away.
"That was an exhausting sleep..."
For once, Kallen had not woken with the satisfying sense of having replenished his energy. Owing to the habits of his previous life, he thought of sleep more as recharging himself.
Before him, Vicolai lay quietly, eyes wide open, utterly motionless.
Kallen stood up. He had no idea how long he had slept; neither the sun nor the moon was visible from the Detention Room.
He walked over, raised a foot, and lightly nudged Vicolai, who lay on the floor.
As though made of cotton candy, Vicolai's body instantly lost its human shape and turned into a pile of clean, gray dust.
So clean... it could even have been packed into an exquisite box as a Valentine's Day gift.
He was dead-he could hardly have died more "thoroughly."
Although Kallen had missed a little of the process, judging by the result, his death probably had not been particularly easy or quick.
He left the cell and headed upstairs. Passing Trisen's cell on the level above, Kallen heard a voice from within. Trisen had his face pressed against the bars and was staring at him.
"What did you discuss with Vicolai?"
Kallen shook his head. He did not particularly want to talk right now. If possible, he wanted to take a shower first.
"You can talk to me," Trisen said. "Vicolai was