The custom room remained the same, yet the atmosphere was oppressively somber. With the alarm lifted, the locked door had been unsealed again, but the closed heart had not reopened.
Owes stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind a tangled mess, chaotic, yet seemingly empty.
Suddenly he desired to move. He no longer wanted to lie on this bed. His slender arms tried to support him up; it was difficult but achievable. He exerted all his strength to crawl out of bed, his legs trembling slightly as they touched the ground.
He breathed heavily, as if just this action had drained all his energy. A slight sting came from the joints, but it was still bearable for him.
Owes wanted to go out and see. He suddenly realized he had stayed in the Perpetual Motion Pump for so long, yet he barely left to look around, only staying in this room, waiting to go on tasks when called.
