Water drips, falling gently from the cracks between the rough stone above. My limbs are enveloped by chains of pure darkness that wrap around me, holding a tight but careful grip—as though I am its newborn child. But even that tenderness does not shield me from the suffocating agony of it all. The chains pull at my bones, an unrelenting reminder of my helplessness, the weight of them pressing into my skin like a thousand needles.

Each drip of water echoes through the silent void, a reminder of the time slipping away. How long have I been here? A day? A century? The tower's grip on me is as cold as the stone that surrounds me, and I can barely remember the world outside, only the fleeting shadow of a life I once knew.

I search the dark for something—anything—that could offer me a way out. But the walls are as indifferent as the chains that bind me, relentless in their silence. The only sound is the drip... drip... drip, like the steady ticking of a clock counting down to a fate I cannot see.

And then, the voice. It whispers, low and hollow, as if it exists not just in the air, but inside my very mind. "You cannot escape," it says, its tone one of both malice and pity. "You were never meant to."But I refuse to believe it. There must be a way out. The question is not if I can escape, but how—and what price I must pay to break free from the chains that were never meant to be broken. A mind shattered and scattered can only think of one thing: escape. Just as an animal caught in the jaws of its predator fixates on survival, I am consumed by the desperate urge to break free from this darkness. I scream into the void, voice raw with anger and desperation. "You will not cloud my mind with your little games! I was once a..."

The words falter on my tongue. I was once a what? A king? A warrior? A lover?

I reach for the answer, clawing through fragments of memory—but the instant I grasp it, it slips away. Stolen. Over and over again. The faint flicker of light in the endless black is snuffed out each time I get too close, as if someone waits in the shadows, eager to tear it from my grasp. I clench my fists, trembling. How do you fight an enemy you cannot see? An enemy that lurks within your own mind? Yet one thing remains clear: I will not surrender. Even if I have to tear apart this darkness with my bare hands.

"Your will is still strong," the voice whispers, tinged with surprise. I gasp. After God knows how long, I hear the word help. Someone—anyone—offering me a hand from this eternal prison. But suspicion grips me. "How do I know this isn't another trick? Another one of your endless ploys to break my will? I don't sleep, eat, piss, or shit. You've stripped away everything human from me." My voice in cracks due to anger. "What's next? You want my soul too?"

A pause lingers before the voice responds, weary yet resolute. "Like you,trapped"

I freeze. "Like me? are you...a prisoner as well"

"So long, don't even remember name" The voice falters, then steadies. "I study stones here, i know stones here." the voice says as if its straining to get its thoughts trough the endless pit of darkness.

Doubt gnaws at me. "Why should I trust you?"

"Shouldn't." A grim chuckle echoes faintly. "But what choice you have?" My breath quickens. "Then why are you still here if you know how to escape?"

"I was a fool, corrupted, hungry" 

"And now?"

"Now I have you," it says with fierce determination. "Together we escape"

A flicker of light pulses in the darkness—barely more than a spark, but enough to make my chest tighten.

Hope? Or just madness shared between prisoners of this god forsaken twisted tower.