Ahras awoke with a full-body twitch. Sore all over and very stiff, he climbed from the bed and scratched his head. He felt slow, and as he climbed from the bed, he felt light-headed and was struck with a splitting headache, leaving him blind for several seconds. His clothes were form-fitting, not a good thing, he couldn't remember much, but he could remember enough to know why he hated tight clothing. Noticing a pile of clothes at the foot of his bed, he grabbed them all and threw them on, not even removing the jumpsuit.

Quickly, he became very warm, a comfortable feeling, better than the damp coolness of the cell. Speaking of the cell, where was he? There weren't many clues. The door was still closed and it was not very bright. Just as he was about to finish putting on his right boot, a buzzer rang out and the door shot open.

Ahras was not prepared for this.

It was around five minutes later that he finally crawled out from under the bed, slowly and clandestinely. He felt no desire to leave, but he knew staying would get him nowhere. Contentedly sitting on the bed would have been nice, but this was a prison, and a prison meant guards, the doors were open, so it had to be time to get out and about. Dillydallying would only get him a lecture if he was lucky, a beating if he was less lucky, and something much worse if he was unlucky.

The door was open, and it beckoned Ahras, and he felt that no matter how hard he tried to resist, he was eventually going to end up outside. So, with knocked knees and slow gait, Ahras left the room, only to find that other prisoners had left beforehand. Prisoners were bad, hell, people were bad. Hiding behind the door-frame, Ahras barely poked his head out to listen to the others conversing.