Alex emerged from the depths of unconsciousness, finding himself sprawled out on a cold, hard floor.
His limbs refused to obey his commands, leaving him unable to make even the smallest movement.
He strained against the invisible shackles holding him down but to no avail. His body remained unresponsive as if he were a puppet with its strings cut.
The room he found himself in was dimly illuminated, resembling an antiquated storage room.
Dust particles danced in the weak orange glow of a lamp situated not too far from him. The sight of it filled the air with an ambiance of neglect and abandonment, making Alex's current predicament seem even more ominous.
As he struggled to piece together his situation, an abrupt voice echoed from behind him, startling him out of his confusion. "Finally, it seems like you've awoken," the voice remarked, its tone indifferent. It was a male voice, strong and commanding.
