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Well. This was definitely the master bedroom in the Tower of Night. Everything looked the same. Why in the world did they bring him all the way back here? There was a bed near the Forge, right? They could've just let him sleep there.

Hmm.

His head was surprisingly clear, he realized. He didn't feel groggy in the slightest. Almost like when Garovel made his fatigue disappear. Except he didn't see the reaper anywhere.

Which was the first thing he needed to check on.

'...Garovel?'

'Hector! You're awake! Finally!'

'How long was I out?'

'It's been almost a whole month now, I think.'

Hector's eyes widened. '...This is the part where you tell me you're just fuckin' with me, right?'

'Afraid not, pal.'

Aw, shit. He rolled out of bed. Well, at least he had clothes on. Holy god, he stank, though. And he was so fucking hungry. He wasn't sure his stomach had ever felt so incredibly empty before--which was saying a lot, because he had many examples to compare it against.

Other than that, however, he actually felt pretty good. Light on his feet. Not sluggish at all. Ready to go somewhere and do stuff.

The first destination should probably be the shower, he figured. He made his way over to the bathroom while Garovel kept talking.

'Half of that time, you spent just standing there in front of the Forge. The other half, you spent asleep. In a fucking soul-coma.'

'A soul-coma?'

'Yeah. Figured that was a good term for it, since I kept trying to wake you up. Unsuccessfully, that is. Which was really obnoxious, by the way. Please don't do that again.'

'Yeah, er, I'll try not to.'

'Y'know, at first, I wasn't worried at all. You do weird and dumb shit like this all the time, so I was fine with just waiting. But I gotta admit, after that second week rolled around, I was becoming slightly upset. Peeved. Miffed, you might say.'

'Uh... huh...'