<div style="text-align: justify;">The lights didn't wake Hana. The hiss of the doors didn't wake Hana. No one woke Hana. She had been awake all night.<br/><br/>The electric lamps were blinding after hours upon hours of near-total darkness in the Plasma benders' part of the prison. Hana had stayed awake, rocking on the floor with her hands around her knees, the tiniest of tiny balls of faintly glowing light blue plasma hovering near her fingertips. No one had said anything about it yet. The hated, emotionless female voice that greeted her every day and dictated her routines shook her out of her trance, and the blue light that had kept her company during the night fizzled and died away as she rose and smoothed her increasingly grubby blue dress. She patted barefoot into the canteen, mumbling to herself. Reluctantly, she grabbed a tray with the mush that passed for sustenance here, and got in line behind a slightly taller young man with a ponytail. Bread was the only thing worth queuing for. At least it tasted faintly like something.</div>