In a room with weak lighting, Lucas had his hands raised up by the chains to stop him from struggling.
He was made to sit, his legs spread and his feet also burdened by chains that, like the ones for his hands, ended into the walls.
He had been dispossessed of his bag and his gauntlets before being brought back to the camp through a small discreet opening.
He was being held beneath the center of the camp, in a not too shabby room that seemed to have been cleaned not long ago.
He remained there for many hours, as the ones that came to find him and brought him back at gun points cleaned him, took care of leaving the room pristine and left him naked, a state that he was coming to find too recurrent.
He lowered his head, hiding his expression and the coldness that was starting to bleed through his indifference with his freed white hair.
