Ezra woke up to the harsh reality of his new state. His arms were stretched above his head, his wrists bound tightly to the ceiling with rough, biting ropes. He knew this wasn't the warehouse he'd been in previously.
The pain was immediate and all-encompassing, shooting through his shoulders and down his spine. He blinked against the dim light, trying to piece together how he had ended up here.
The cold, echoing clank of boots on concrete announced Hadron's arrival. He entered with a smug expression, hands in his pockets, and an air of cruel satisfaction. "Look who finally woke up," Hadron sneered, stopping just out of reach. "Did you have a nice nap, Ezra?"
Ezra glared at him, trying to muster the strength to speak, but his throat was parched and raw. The effort of simply hanging there was almost more than he could bear, his muscles screaming in protest.
