Chapter 40: The Dorian Collective
The Traitor
The guard stationed at the foot of Endo’s tunnel prison sat behind a dented metal desk with a rifle in his lap.
“Furquois?” Endo asked.
He hadn’t accepted a sip of water or morsel of food for days now. The sap of energy had begun to take its toll and, along with the disorienting nature of an underground prison cell, made for a risky descent into psychosis.
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