Dungeon.
When Cain came to, he was bound in shackles and seated on the cold, coarse floor of something he could only describe as a prison cell.
Light was completely absent, and the dungeon smelt like mold and corpses. A suffocating heat pressed down on him, and his heah spun, causing him to have trouble finding his bearing.
As such, he chose not to move at all. Instead, he spent the next few minutes observing his body.
'All the energy in my body is being restricted.' That was the conclusion he came to.
He stared down at the chains that bound him. They were glowing with a soft blue light.
Cain sighed...
Things had gone wrong right from the beginning. He had thought he wasn't underestimating the trial, but it seemed he was too cocky.
He decides to pour over all the information he had, which wasn't a lot.