“What happened to you?”
Liquid struggled to move out of the strange capsule in which The Patriots had used to preserve his body. He could not see a thing, nor could he move any part of his body. Laying there paralyzed he tried desperately to move anything; any part that would help he figure out where he was or who had just spoken to him. It was one he had never heard before, but was still familiar in some way. There was a something synthetic attributed to that voice as if the speaker themselves were not fully organic.
Desperate to move and learn who was there, Liquid strained to speak. He had no idea how long it had been since he passed out in the snow of Shadow Moses, and he hoped that his body had not atrophied too badly in the interim. “…w..w-where…am i?…w…w…who…are..y.y-you?” The words barely escaped his throat and were as weak as the rest of his body was. Despite the possibility of him being in the presence of an enemy, Liquid deemed that if they wanted to kill him, they would have done so already.
