Event Starter || @demonartprogenitor
There had been people she remembers waking up with. They had been smarter than her (or maybe just more impatient) and had wandered ahead of her to begin maze-ing in and out of the white halls.
Her eyes catch in half reflections of the windows she passes, along the cells, to see she had been changed out of her usual attire. Equally sterile clothes to match the environment were on her- but they hadn't been brave, or foolish, enough to take the wooden sword from her hand.
It doesn't stop her from coming to a slow and steady stop to one of the final cells on this side of the ..station? If they could call it that even. The lights that throb and paint the long corridors in red also bathe her and the young man (teen?) in front of her. The whirling probably nausea inducing for those who were sensitive to such, but in the breathes of silence between the wailing sirens that accompanied the red, it felt familiar.
She wonders if the guy in front of her whom hadn't been startled into action felt the same way.
"Hey. You waiting for someone?"
