POV: Chetan
- Again ?
The first thought that crossed Chetan's mind was that he was tired of waking up on the floor.
Since he had been locked in that room, he felt like he was spending more time unconscious than awake.
how many hours had already passed since his arrival.
At this rate, he would end up believing that sleeping had become the only activity allowed in this place.
He opened his eyes slightly.
The white light assaulted my eyes.
– hmmm…
He grimaced, turned his head slightly, and waited for the contours of the room to stop dancing.
The memories hit him in fragments: the jolts, the screams, the mask, that voice begging for help…
He carefully straightened up.
– Good blood…
Reaching his hand towards her head.
I'm not in pain anymore?
This discovery surprised him enough to make him freeze. He brought his other hand to his skull, where the blow had struck, then ran his fingers along the back of his neck. Nothing. No pain, no swelling, just patches of dried blood settling on his fingers.
He lowered his eyes and suddenly lifted his shirt.
- ….ha!
I looked up at the room; it was still in the same state. White fragments littered the floor.
Some of the furniture had been moved and several scratch marks covered the floor surface.
The alarm flashed slowly without making a sound. Silence had returned to the place, as if the events of earlier had never happened.
Chetan observed this place with amazement and astonishment.
Dried blood covered his fingers and had spread across his palms. He remembered perfectly the head injury, the impact against the wall, and the unpleasant sensation that had prevented him from getting up.
However, he no longer had any injuries.
The current stage of the chamber did not really support his hypothesis.
- What is…
He paused, his hand under his chin.
.
.
He narrowed his eyes
Something was in the opposite corner of the room.
– Hé ?!
He received no response.
The figure was huddled against the wall, its back to Chetan, knees drawn up to its sides, arms hanging loosely at its sides. It didn't move. Its head was slightly tilted, and its gaze seemed fixed on an invisible point in front of it.
I felt a small lump rising in my stomach.
He was naked, but his withdrawn posture gave nothing away about his appearance. His shoulders were low and his hair hung loose.
– Hé ?
He looked around, as if he expected to discover another person hidden behind the debris.
There was nobody there.
The figure still did not react.
Chetan got up, leaning against the wall for support. His legs were still a little stiff, but they supported his weight without difficulty. He took a few steps, stopped, then looked around again.
The door still had the fabric he'd slipped between them. The robots aren't very observant and would have left clues if they'd come. And above all, he didn't remember seeing that man before losing consciousness.
– Where are you from…
Silence.
I hate it when people ignore me.
Chetan moved forward again. He kept his eyes on the stranger, attentive to the slightest movement. When he was a few steps away, he hesitated before extending his hand.
– Can you hear me?
He gently placed his fingers on her shoulder.
The reaction was immediate.
The man jumped violently and raised his head, while Chetan jerked his hand away. They both stepped back almost simultaneously, each surprised by the other's presence.
– Oh!
Chetan placed a hand on his chest.
– Damn, you scared me…
Livid.
Chetan Pali in a fraction of a second.
But the man was watching him.
His eyes were wide open, but his expression remained strangely blank. He didn't seem to understand where he was.
However, his attention was entirely focused on Chetan.
– Eugene?
The man turned his head as if to look for the One they were calling
– How did you get here?
The stranger continued to stare at him.
– You came in while I was unconscious? Did you come from another room? Why are you naked?
He waited a few seconds.
Nothing.
Chetan exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair. He was beginning to wonder if this man was even capable of speaking. His gaze briefly dipped to the white fragments scattered on the ground, then returned to his face.
An unpleasant thought crossed his mind, but knowing Eugene's character, it was not unreasonable to suspect him.
The mask.
Chetan stared again at the stranger, one hand placed over his mouth.
Non.
He shook his head slightly.
It was absurd.
This is Eugene.
I'm 100% sure of it
– Do you at least know where we are?
"Eugene" still did not reply.
His gaze followed Chetan's movements. He seemed neither frightened nor reassured. He simply observed him with silent attention, as if he too were trying to understand what was in front of him.
Chetan felt his expression harden.
– Do you plan to stay like this for long?
No reaction.
He sighed, then rubbed his face.
– Are you angry with me? What have I done now? At least tell me…
The man hadn't moved. He was still sitting in his cor
ner, his shoulders against the wall, and his eyes followed his every move.
"What?" asked Chetan.
Silence.
– This is really not the time for your whims….