It was like rising through deeply concentrated mist. The wispy tendrils of fog became arms with grasping hands that melted around him. With every stretch of distance he rose however, it grew lighter; evaporating before him as if he were a king parting the sea of his subjects. Sound drifted into his consciousness like the rising tide creeping upon the beachhead. Then, as he breached the surface of the drowning surreality, the plastic shell that curbed his senses crumbled.<br/><br/>The most prominent stimulus in whatever room he was in was the sound of someone struggling. His eyes rolled down as his lids opened, slit pupils quickly adjusted to the fluorescent lighting., and he rolled his head a few degrees to the right to see what was happening. He saw a female. A very strange female. The first thing that he noticed was her scent; it was almost cold. The other was a male. He was a mutant, or so he guessed from his scent. Perhaps it was something he had ingested. He was also struggling underneath the empty fury of the female who was forcing a minute glass vial into his gullet. Apparently she lost her patience as she wrenched the man's nipple and shoved the glass into his widely open mouth. The sharp scent of blood filled the room. Halak assumed she shattered the vial against his teeth and cut something within his throat.<br/><br/>Just like that though, it was over. The male began vomiting profusely into a bucket that overflowed under the bombardment. After a long while he was done and laid back with a seemingly pained expression. No that those events had dissolved, Halak took stock of his own injuries. The serious ones were still scratches upon his skin, but the lesser wounds were soft scar tissue. A tightness around his chest told him that he was wearing bandages. He could see how expertly they were applied. Whoever the doctor was, he deserved whatever praise he received. Other than those injuries however, he felt fine, perhaps a little hungry, but fine. He was grateful that hunger was one for food…<br/><br/>At the thought of food, he noticed the smell of raw and rotting meat. Following the scent to its source, his eyes fell upon a large male crouching in the corner. His scent was definitely that of a mutant. Another male, this one pure as far as Halak could tell, handed a small book to the large one. A strange look of pleasure crossed its face. Sitting up completely, Halak swung his legs over the side completely and looked around once more. He turned to the man on the bed that was to his right and asked. "Who leads here?"