SAMANTHA
Darkness. That was all I could see when I finally opened my eyes. Thick, suffocating darkness that pressed against my skin like a physical weight. My head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, and my body felt heavy, as if I had been drugged.
Where was I?
I tried to move, but my wrists were bound behind my back, chafing against rough rope. The floor beneath me was cold and damp, and the air smelled of mildew and rust. A holding cell. They had thrown me in a holding cell.
Distant screaming echoed through the walls, muffled but unmistakable. The sound sent chills down my spine. What was happening out there?
I strained my ears, trying to make sense of the chaos. Footsteps pounded past my cell, urgent and frantic. Guards were shouting orders, their voices laced with fear.
"Contain him! We need more chains!"
"He's breaking through the east wing!"
"The elders are on their way—just hold him off!"
