I still lay open my eyes.

Momentarily forgetting that I had literally spent the last couple of weeks in hell.

The man that had saved us, stood by the window, staring out at an empty street.

Mumbling in a language I couldn't understand.

Good morning, he said without even turning.

Somehow noticing me awakening.

The throat like sandpaper I couldn't even respond.

I looked around the room and my tired eyes quickly realizing that Mia was missing.

Mia, where is she?

I forced out barely a whisper.

Don't worry about her, Thomas.

She's resting in the chambers as the infection fades.

He said, matter of factly.

I pushed myself into a sitting position, noticing a glass filled with a murky brown liquid

on the bedside.

Infection.

I asked.

As I inspected the glass.

It's the closest translation I could come up with.

Everyone touched by the void slowly starts to drain.

Their souls were ring out as they merged with this place.

He turned and limped towards me, revealing a mangled leg, kept up by his cane, made it

...