Fish

A week passed in the blink of an eye.

Seth stirred as if waking from a long dream.

The oblivion Zera had placed him in dissolved like fog, leaving him hovering in a moment of anticipation.

A strange countdown ticked in his mind as he waited, unmoving, for the final second to arrive.

Then, his eyes fluttered open.

Instead of a vast sky or a familiar space, he was met with a low, uneven ceiling.

He inhaled sharply, expecting the fresh, crisp air of freedom, but was instead greeted by cold, thick, humid air that clung to his lungs.

With a grunt, Seth planted his palms against the cold floor and pushed, trying to lift himself into a sitting position.

His muscles screamed in protest, and for a moment, he thought he might pass out from the sheer effort. His arms gave out, and he collapsed back onto the ground, chest heaving.

"Seriously," he muttered, blinking up at the ceiling,

"what the hell did she do to me?"