"Dea, the pain feels almost real, can you tone it down a bit?" I wince, the lingering sensation of each blow etched in the fibers of my real muscles.
"Master, you can customize your pain threshold. Currently, it's set at 100%. Would you like to feel no pain at all, or perhaps double the pain for a more authentic experience?" Dea's voice swirls around me like a therapeutic balm.
"Set it at 5%—it hits the sweet spot between a pinch and a massage," I direct, my voice tinged with a newfound sense of control. "And while you're at it, dig up everything you can on these thugs. They seem to have laid claim to this district."
Thrown like discarded refuse, I find myself unceremoniously dumped at the district's boundary. My back presses into the gravelly earth as I gaze into the obsidian night sky, its void resonating with the bleakness I once knew on Earth. I'm swaddled in memories of sleeping against cold walls and nursing fresh bruises.