Another time, a cold and damp experience arose from the pitch-black darkness as the sound of footsteps echoed.
Having lost his concept of time, he finally regained his consciousness once again, but as he slowly opened his eyes, all he could see was the relentless darkness, punctuated by the sound of footsteps growing ever closer.
Then the blackness was illuminated by light reflected off stones polished to a gleam.
The gleaming stones, and the slowly approaching orange light of a torch, cast a soft glow.
Finally, the figure halted in front of the cold, rusty iron bars.
The situation he now saw before him had reversed, as the Alchemist came to stand before him.
All that had transformed into this scene before his eyes seemed to be a deeply regrettable reality.
Andrew, weary, opened his heavy eyes and surveyed everything before him.
He turned his head to look at the man who stood before him, as if visiting him at this moment.