Awoken

As Arthur's eyelids fluttered open, the eternal darkness waned, revealing the pleasant light that–at that moment–seemed blinding. A wave of pleasure swept by, and it seemed as if all the fatigue had vanished.

Even the exhaustion he didn't notice he had disappeared, leaving him at his peak.

'Although, I do feel a bit lethargic,' Arthur muttered internally, somehow standing up while clutching the side of his bed to maintain his balance. The room in which he stood was dim, illuminated solely by a few rays of sunlight that squeezed through a narrow crack in a window at Arthur's bedside.

The room in which the crimson-eyed man resided was not particularly vast. With a single bed, a drawer, a tiny table, and a fan, it was how one would expect a minimalistic person to live. There was also a rather displeasing smell in the air.