Ned woke up by the rush of footings and a strange whiff in the air he could only recognize as a stew, muttons perhaps. His nose have always been sensitive to meat, especially of rabbis. Rabbis had always been a delicacy he and Master Will had been enjoying for as long as he could remember back at the island of O'rriadt.
But no rabbis for now. He was sure of it, no rabbis smelled so rabid and unforgiving. Whoever cooked it, obviously did not want to showcase their talents to others.
As soon as he woke up, Ned dismissed all the sounds tuning in his head like a glass shattering and with a thought swiped all the blinking notifications under his display. He even got rid of the mana and energy bars to make sure nothing would distract his vision.
How long? He thought, asking for ICE. His artificial companion, the only system given to him by his friends—late friends. Friends that he would never see again.
[26 hours.]
