In Control

As Darth slowly drifted back into consciousness, he felt a dull throbbing in his head, like a heavy drum beating slowly in the distance, pulling him out of the depths of darkness.

His mind was foggy, memories scattered, but one thought slowly bubbled to the surface—he was not alone.

He blinked, his vision blurred, the room around him coming into focus like a slow-developing photograph.

The first thing he noticed was the oppressive darkness, broken only by a faint, flickering light that cast eerie shadows on the rough, damp walls.

He tried to move, but a harsh rattle of chains stopped him short.

Panic surged through him as he realized his hands were shackled above his head, chains biting into his wrists, and his feet were similarly bound to the cold, unforgiving ground.

The realization sent a jolt of adrenaline through him, banishing the last remnants of grogginess.