Despite Alina's resolute efforts, Hari's unexpected strength prevailed in the battle. The surge of power from the girl's small frame proved overwhelming.
With almost supernatural force, Hari pushed back against Alina's attempt to subdue her. Alina's form was propelled backward, crashing into a wall, a collision of human and elemental forces.
The chamber reverberated with a cacophony of screams and shouts, the air charged with fear and chaos.
Amidst the turmoil, three determined staff members rushed forward, faces etched with grim determination. They unleashed a volley of electric shocks, crackling energy surging through the air to immobilize Hari.
It was a brutal and heart-wrenching scene, a painful necessity born from dire circumstances.
As electric shocks coursed through Hari's body, her small frame convulsed with the intensity of the jolts. The struggle was far from over. In a flash, Hobe entered the fray, emotions a volatile mix of anger, grief, and desperation.
Seizing an iron rod from the surroundings, he swung it with a semblance of purpose. Each feeble blow expressed his inner turmoil.
The sound of metal meeting air and the thud of weak impacts filled the chamber, an auditory backdrop to the chaotic tableau.
Hobe's swings were futile, his strength no match for the adversaries he faced. The slayer knight staff responded with swift, calculated strikes, landing blows with precision.
Amidst the chaos and violence, Hobe's eyes remained locked onto Hari's agonizing struggle. He witnessed her pain, her body contorting and spasming with each shock, a helpless witness to her torment.
"No... Hari...," Hobe's voice carried a mixture of despair and determination, words a whispered lament as darkness began to close in, obscuring his consciousness.
***
Jumbled compositions of the past swirled within Hobe, colliding and intertwining like a chaotic symphony reverberating through his mind and body.
A tumultuous, inconsistent surge of pain coursed through him, each sensation a tempestuous wave crashing against his consciousness.
As if vivid and fragmented memories had been thrown into a blender, Hobe grappled with an overwhelming cacophony of experiences.
Nostrils assailed by the putrid, metallic smell of blood, a noxious aroma clawed at his senses, intensifying the disorientation upon awakening.
The mingling scents created dissonance, making it difficult to ground himself in a bewildering state of sensory overload.
"No? Where is this? Where is Hari?!" he shouted, voice a desperate plea reverberating through unfamiliar surroundings.
As senses clawed their way back, Hobe became acutely aware of his predicament. His body felt restricted, confined by an invisible force leaving him powerless.
Hands, head, and legs were tightly ensnared by coarse leather straps, their unyielding grip a cruel reminder of his captivity.
Wounds on Hobe's shoulder tended to, pain replaced by a dull ache. Skin still marked by battle, a visual testament to struggles faced.
Care with which wounds treated stood in stark contrast to harshness of current situation.
His body, once a vessel of freedom, now bound echoing the agony of his spirit.
Bindings on limbs dug into skin, pressure of their hold amplifying the pain throbbing within.
Room stark contrast to turmoil within. Dominated by white, color seemed to stretch infinitely, threatening to wash away all other hues and potentially strip away sanity.
Sterile atmosphere oppressive, its starkness juxtaposed with the chaos within Hobe.
Iron chair, unyielding presence, pressed firmly against Hobe's naked body, sending unsettling shivers down his spine as frigid metal met bare skin.
Every point of contact seemed to sap warmth from his body, leaving him acutely aware of vulnerability.
Coldness seeped into bones, insidious reminder of predicament leaving skin prickling with discomfort.
Bound in an uncomfortable position, Hobe's body strained against restraints holding him in place.
Leather straps dug into flesh, harsh grip accentuating discomfort of his posture. Position amplified helplessness, every movement stark reminder of lack of agency.
Amid glaring lights bathing the room, mirrors positioned in front of him seemed almost malevolent in intent.
Caught sight of his reflection, Hobe confronted with grotesque image nearly unbearable to look at.
Harsh lighting cast shadows dancing across skin, emphasizing contours in unsettling ways.
Later, Hobe would realize mirrors were two-way, amplifying the sense of surveillance suffocating the air.
In weakened state, Hobe exerted every ounce of effort to break free from restraints, muscles straining against bindings.
Heart pounded, frantic rhythm echoing urgency of his situation.
"Hey! Whoever is out there, release me! Let me go!" His voice, laced with desperation, reverberated through the room, plea carrying weight of fear and frustration. "You have no right to treat a human like this!"
Yet, fervent appeals seemed to dissolve into the air, swallowed by oppressive silence surrounding him.