Thane sat in the back of the lecture hall, his pen gliding over a worn notebook as Professor Klein dissected the complexities of medieval European history. Around him, the soft clatter of laptop keys filled the air, a stark contrast to the scratch of his pen.

As he scribbled down another note, a voice interrupted his concentration. "Why aren't you using a laptop?" asked a curious classmate who had paused beside his desk.

Thane didn't look up, choosing instead to continue his note-taking. The classmate shrugged and returned to a group of friends who whispered amongst themselves.

Thane's ears, however, caught the comment not meant for him, "Maybe he's just really poor or something." The words stung less than they might have; he was used to such assumptions.

As the class dispersed, Thane packed his belongings into his bag, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He glanced around, noticing that almost everyone had immediately pulled out their phones, their fingers dancing rapidly across the screens.

Watching them, a thought echoed through his mind, a memory of his father's warning voice, "Maybe Dad was right," he whispered to himself, but before he could delve deeper into that reflection, he sensed a presence looming behind him.

Thane's muscles momentarily stiffened, a reflex born of caution. But as the familiar tone of Marcus's voice reached his ears, that tension melted away almost as quickly as it had arrived. "Heading out already?" Marcus asked, his presence now a reassuring comfort in the often isolating environment of the university.

Marcus noticed the change in Thane's demeanour and smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Come on, let's grab a drink. You look like you could use a break," he suggested, clapping Thane on the shoulder.

Thane hesitated, his internal values clashing with the offer. "I really shouldn't," he started, the weight of his family's teachings and his own principles holding him back. "It's just not something I..."

"Ah, come on! One drink won't hurt. It's just a bit of downtime," Marcus interrupted, his voice full of easy persuasion. Thane's resolve wavered under the friendly insistence. After a moment of internal debate, he nodded slowly. "Alright, just one or two," he conceded, a slight smile breaking through his usual reserve.

At the dimly lit pub, a favourite haunt for local college students, Thane and Marcus found a quiet corner away from the rowdy crowd. Marcus ordered a round of beers, sliding one toward Thane with a knowing grin. "To breaking rules—just a bit," he toasted, lifting his glass.

Thane chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders as he clinked his glass against Marcus's. "To moderation," he countered, a playful spark in his eyes. The beer was cold, the bitterness sharp on his tongue, a stark contrast to the usual warmth of his spartan routines.

As they sipped their drinks, Marcus leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Alright, man, truth time—ever done anything wild? Anything that would shock the stoic Thane I know?"

Thane paused, then grinned. "Once, my dad had me spend a week in the wilderness with nothing but a knife and a water bottle," he shared, his tone mixing incredulity with a hint of pride. "Said it was to prepare me for anything. You learn a lot about yourself when you're trying to catch your next meal with a makeshift spear."

Marcus's eyebrows shot up. "That's intense. Ever think it's a bit much?"

"Sometimes," Thane replied, catching the flicker of astonishment in Marcus's eyes. He paused, realizing he might have veered too close to revealing more than he intended. With a sly grin, he quickly added, "But you know, I'm just messing with you. Who would actually do that for fun, right?"

Marcus laughed, relief mingling with his amusement. "You had me going there for a second. I was about to nominate you for one of those survival reality shows."

Thane laughed, playing along. "Imagine the ratings, huh? 'Watch Thane survive with just his wits and a pocket knife.' I'd watch that."

The mood lightened considerably, and Marcus leaned back, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I'd definitely watch that. You'd probably win, too," he joked. After a pause, Marcus's gaze became more playful, and he nudged Thane with his elbow. "You know, for someone our size, you're like, what, fifty percent heavier? It's like you're made of concrete."

Thane smirked, taking the jab in stride. "Guess all that 'wilderness training' wasn't for nothing, huh? Builds character... and apparently, density." He paused, then added with a grin, "I've noticed you've been getting a bit bigger too. Did you start doing some of the exercises and routines I sent you?"

Marcus's face lit up with pride. "Yeah, I did! Been sticking to it for a while now. Feels good to finally see some progress."

Thane nodded approvingly. "That's great, man. Keep it up. It shows."

Marcus laughed, clapping Thane on the back with exaggerated effort as if testing his theory. "Man, if only half of your stories are true, you're practically a superhero. What are you feeding those muscles, rocks?"

Their laughter filled their small corner of the pub, the weight of deeper truths skillfully veiled by their banter. Marcus's comment, though made in jest, didn't stray too far from reality. Thane's training had indeed shaped him in more ways than one, but how much of that was his secret to keep.

As the night wore on, the earlier rounds of beers turned into a few more, and the conversations flowed as freely as the drinks. The pub's lively atmosphere was contagious, and even Thane found himself caught up in the revelry, a rare break from his usual restraint. "To an unexpectedly great night," Marcus raised his glass one last time as they prepared to leave, his voice thick with the warmth of genuine camaraderie.

Thane nodded, his smile a testament to the evening's success. "Definitely more than we planned, but worth it," he agreed. They stepped out into the cool night air, the buzz of alcohol and the echoes of laughter softening the edges of the world around them.

As they walked back to their modest, one-room dormitories, the streets quiet except for their footsteps, both felt a lightness they hadn't experienced in a long time. Tonight had been a good detour from routine, a reminder of the joys of letting go, if only for a moment.

Back in the solitude of his small dormitory, Thane couldn't help but smile as he replayed the evening's laughter in his mind. It had been genuinely fun, a rare and cherished deviation from his usual rigidity. As he set his bottle on the table and passed by the mirror, his reflection caught his eye—a stark reminder of the night's indulgence.

There he was, a silly grin plastered across his face, holding an empty beer bottle. The sight jarred him; this image of carefree abandon was the antithesis of the hardened survivor his family had drilled him to be.

His expression darkened as he stared at himself, his features twisting subtly. In his reflection, he saw not himself but a target of scorn, the manifestation of weakness that his family despised. The mental conditioning from years of survival training surged, framing his cheerful demeanour as a vulnerability.

His eyes narrowed, the smile fading as his subconscious programming kicked in, transforming his self-perception into that of a predator confronting its unworthy prey. This moment of weakness, this 'pathetic self' he now scorned, ignited a fierce self-criticism, as if he was poised to tear apart the very image of vulnerability he presented.

With a sudden, explosive burst of anger, Thane's fist shot out, smashing into the mirror. The glass shattered, sending shards flying in all directions. Pain radiated from his hand as he pulled it back, blood trickling from the fresh cuts. As he threw the punch, he felt a slight tweak in one of his muscles, a minor reminder of the strain he'd put his body through.

He stared at the broken reflection, breathing heavily, the physical pain a harsh reminder of his vow to never let his guard down again. The shattered mirror, now reflecting fragments of his face, seemed to symbolize his fractured resolve, but the sting of the cuts grounded him in the reality of his determination.

Disgust churned within Thane as he confronted his moment of weakness in the shattered mirror, the echo of his indulgence haunting him. But amidst the self-reproach, a steely determination took root. He refused to succumb to the allure of temporary escape again, refusing to let one night tarnish the resilience he had honed over years.

With a firm resolve, he vowed to learn from this lapse, to strengthen his resolve rather than let it falter. Pushing aside the self-loathing, he embraced the lesson it offered, using it as a catalyst for growth. With a sense of purpose guiding him, Thane bandaged his hand and climbed into bed, the weight of his determination settling over him like a protective cloak.

Tomorrow would be a new day, a chance to reaffirm his commitment to self-discipline and resilience, fortified by the knowledge gained from his own momentary lapse. And as sleep claimed him, he found solace in the certainty that he would emerge from this experience stronger than before.

However, as Thane gradually emerged from the depths of sleep, his consciousness returning with a serene clarity, he found himself in an unfamiliar predicament.

Rather than his soft sheets, what greeted him was what felt like a wooden floor with walls surrounding him in all directions and barely enough space to move around in. Despite the initial shock of his confined state, he remained remarkably composed.

With a calm demeanour, he took stock of his surroundings, allowing himself a moment to assess the situation. His mind worked methodically, piecing together fragments of memory to unravel the mystery of his confinement.

As he contemplated the circumstances that led him to this confined space, Thane remained steadfast focusing on logical deduction, considering all possible explanations with a rational detachment. With each passing moment, plans on how to escape his current predicament were being formed inside Thane's mind. 

Before Thane was able to think a moment longer, all of the walls seemed to disappear before his very eyes and a piercing light greeted him.