When Adrian finally woke up, he found himself imprisoned in a glass-covered room with four walls. His nostrils were stung by the subtle chemical smell in the cool, nearly sterile air that reminded him of a hospital room.
The only sound in the silence was the gentle hum of machinery, whose rhythm unsettlingly matched his own racing heartbeat. His senses were further warped by the sound of a slow, steady trickle of water echoing against the glass walls in the distance.
The glass was curved, smooth, and sufficiently thick to warp the outside world. Light filtered through in sterile bands, white and blue, humming faintly with a frequency that made his skull ache. His body felt wrong, heavy and slowed, as if someone had reached inside him and wrapped his nerves in cotton.
He tried to move his fingers, but he could barely move them.
