The medical bay buzzed with efficient activity. Sterile white gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights as nurses bustled around Alex, their faces grim but their movements gentle. The System, ever-present, informed him his vitals were stabilizing, though his body would require extensive care.
As Alex drifted in and out of consciousness, a single image remained etched in his mind: the General's steely gaze, a flicker of something familiar dancing within. He tried to grasp it, but exhaustion claimed him once more.
Hours bled into days. Alex, his body slowly mending, found himself in a stark interrogation room, far cry from the torture chamber. A single chair stood in the center, facing a large window offering a view of a meticulously landscaped garden. A steaming cup of tea sat on a table beside him, the aroma a welcome change from the metallic tang of fear.
