Ambrose re-appeared in the room of the facility, returning from the long second round with a sleepless night, feeling exhausted and desperate for some rest.
"Oh god…"
He touched his forehead and massaged it in an attempt to alleviate the pounding headache that had been plaguing him.
At the same moment, another flash of light descended from the ceiling, and Moriarty appeared on the second bed of the room.
Moriarty looked towards him and softly said, "Good job."
"Mm." Ambrose nodded and asked, "You all right?"
"Yes, thanks to you." Moriarty sighed in relief. "That creature who chased you. What the hell was that?"
"I am not too sure…" Ambrose whispered.
Suddenly, a voice echoed from somewhere as if it were coming from speakers, and the voice said that the next round would begin in three days.
"Three days…" Moriarty whispered.
"I am sorry, but I am not much in the talking mood."