Ethan barely had time to wipe the crimson smear from his chin before the Captain's voice sliced through the ringing in his ears.
"Don't get comfortable, kid. That was just the prologue," the Captain said, his eyes cold as he signaled the guards to remain in their positions. "Now comes the second stage: The Vigil. For the next 24 hours, there is no sleep. There is no rest. If I see your eyelids flutter, the torture begins again. If your attention wavers for even a second, we strike. You stay in this room, and you stay alert. If you drop your guard, you drop your life."
Ethan's body felt like a patchwork of raw nerves and half-healed trauma. His heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. On paper, staying awake sounded simple. In reality, with his adrenaline redlining and his psyche shredded, Ethan was a trembling mass of hyper-vigilance. Every creak of the floorboards or rustle of a cloak made him flinch, his eyes darting frantically across the room.
