Neato's consciousness flickered back into existence, a haze of pain clouding his senses. With a groan, he attempted to rise, his muscles protesting against the agony that pulsed through his body.
In a desperate bid for freedom, he lunged at Roman, fueled by a mixture of fear and defiance. But his efforts were futile, met only with the cold, unyielding force of Roman's device, sending shockwaves of agony coursing through him.
Gasping for air, Neato found himself immobilized, his will crushed beneath the weight of Roman's dominance. The realization dawned upon him: he was nothing more than a pawn in Roman's game of power and control.
With a heavy heart, Neato accepted his fate, allowing Roman to dress him in the black suit that symbolized his newfound servitude. As the fabric settled against his skin, he felt the weight of his captivity settle upon him like chains.
Silent resignation hung in the air as Neato and Roman stepped out into the harsh sunlight, their destination clear: Verdonia, a city veiled in shadows and secrets.
But before they departed, Neato's gaze fell upon his sword and pistols, symbols of his former life. With a determined stride, he retrieved them, a silent reminder of the strength and resilience that still burned within him.
As they journeyed towards Verdonia, Neato and Roman engaged in tentative conversation, their words laden with unspoken tension and uncertainty. Yet beneath the surface, a fragile bond began to form, forged in the crucible of adversity.
END OF CHAPTER 3