Atlas' POV
*****
The first thing that graced his consciousness… was pain. His throat stung as if a flaming ring had scorched it, his eyes too heavy to open.
But once he did—he almost wished he could close them back.
Around him was what seemed like a vast expanse. It was dark, yet he could make out the silhouettes of cave walls and a ceiling with iridescent light flashing repeatedly on its surface.
His wrists were suspended by chains that made him lose feeling in most of his arms. And when he tried gathering magic, he couldn't even summon a spark, instead, he strained himself enough to grunt with frustration.
"Where in the spirits' name am I?" He muttered, head lowered to the ground.
It had the same rocky surface as the rest of the place… except he noticed something different. Etched into the ground were symbols.
