Crask was carried down the hallway, his black arms draped over the shoulders of two of the guards, still weak from the fight and the torture he had endured at the hands of his unknown antagoniser. "Remember what we... discussed" the same voice came from behind him "And the cost of failure". As if to emphasise those words, the guards threw him roughly to the ground, turned around, and marched quickly away. He heard familiar voices coming from the room down the hall, Wait, he thought to himself, where am I? He attempted to lift himself up, pushing up from the ground with his arms, but they swiftly buckled under the strain, and Crask collapsed back onto his white underbelly. All strength gone from him, he swore he could see one of the fighters from the arena bending over him, "No..." he managed, before slumping back into unconsciousness.