[A few days ago...]
Allan was tired, although he had the physical strength to run hundreds of miles, jump or fly in the air, even knock down a building in one fell swoop. But, having women and men around him, touching him, measuring him and sometimes admiring him as if he were a sculpture, he felt as if he were prey.
"You look pretty good," Irene said, handing him a tray of food. "You can eat there," she pointed to a small table and accompanied him. "We're not done yet. I just brought you this for the meantime, you must be hungry. Also the service contract is on hold. Given your situation… I had to call a few contacts to get you a new ID. The paperwork should be completed in a few hours or maybe tomorrow."
Allan had no identification papers, after all, he had lived locked up in the woods for many years.
"Don't you remember your family?" Irene asked. "Or your real name?"
