Mia stood with a stoic expression, her gaze fixed on the figure strapped to the vertical bed. Chains clinked softly as attendants manoeuvred the restrained form, ensuring every limb was securely bound. The man they handled was no ordinary captive; he was none other than Baktou, a name whispered in hushed tones, laden with both confusion and fear.
Baktou, once a formidable force, now reduced to a mere shell of his former self, lay subdued before Mia's conflicted eyes. The flickering light danced across his features, casting shadows that seemed to deepen the lines etched by time and torment.
The shadow of the man that he used to be had disappeared and instead it had been replaced with just a mass of muscles that looked as if it was waiting for its death. It was a grotesque form for a man and most of the soldiers couldn't even look at him without gagging as a response.
