When Bologue slowly awakened, what met his eyes wasn't a metallic dome, nor the familiar hospital ceiling, but a murky, untouchable darkness.
Bologue didn't get up immediately. Confused and mixed memories were like a swarm of agitated serpents writhing fiercely in his mind, intertwining, biting, gnawing at him from the inside out.
The sensation was terrible, accompanied by a pressure that almost induced a physical reaction in Bologue, as if a large hand gripped his organs, pulling hard, with foreign objects squeezing and crawling in his throat, scrambling to escape Bologue's body.
Bologue half-lay on the cold ground, coughing painfully like a drowning man.
For a moment, Bologue realized that he surprisingly had thoughts of escape.
Indeed, he always felt he was just a soldier who needed only to follow orders, but now he had become a decision-maker, and the heavy responsibility nearly crushed his sanity.
"How long are you going to lie there?"
