I don't remember anything. I don't know where I am. All I know is pain. My life is pure and unchangeable pain and misery. If I must be more specific, than I will, because I have nothing better to do with the endless hours and uncountable ages I spend unable to do anything but think. I am in a tall cylindrical stasis tube, immersed in a cold yet fiery fog. Every second is excruciating, but I cannot identify the source of the pain. It seems to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. I haven't eaten or drunk anything in God only knows how long. I feel like I'm imploding, and every breath sets me on fire. I cannot feel my limbs, if they are even still attached. My irregular heart beats pound in my head, causing some medically unknown event 300 times worse than the very worst of migraines. All I can think of is that last moment before my eyes closed: Akalan falling to the ground, grief and sorrow beyond his own physical pain the most visible and admirable emotion on his sweet face. Oh, my darling Akalan. I'll never see him again. This truth blinds and envelops me more so than the painful fog encompassing my pitiful form.
I get a sudden shock of air as the front of the cylinder opens. The change in temperature and atmosphere is as painful as it is a relief. Rough hands grab me and strap me to a table.
Vision slowly returns to my weak eyes, but the sight that greets me is no better than the dark. A man wearing a white lab coat and a germ mask is filling a ridiculously long syringe with a green bubbling liquid. He savors the horrified look in my eyes, and how my parched throat refuses to let me scream. He injects me with the liquid, and immediately and electric fire tears through my veins. I cannot describe with words the pain it caused, because no word exists with a strong enough connotation.
Another man enters my narrow field of vision. If I hadn't been in the middle of a torture procedure, I would have said it was a 25-years-younger Xymn Xybras. But I know I am not hallucinating, because he leans down to whisper in my ear, "Hello, Jaide", his voice dripping with a venomous hate. "I had this procedure prepared specially for you, my favorite traitor. You have no idea what you have brought upon yourself. This chamber is set to rerun annually. I can guarantee you will be here for the rest of your VERY long life. And while you are here, we promise to find ALL of your projects. I WILL find Phaiara, and when I do, you will have a front row seat to her extremely painful execution. A bonus package: as you wait, you hear the soundtrack of your husband's death, watch him die over and over. I've given you the gift of immortality. How it is spent is predetermined. Your life shall be made into a living hell, I swear."
Adrenaline rushes through my acid-filled veins, and fury lends me its strength. I spit in his face, and let loose a long string of curses. His face contorts with rage, and he grabs me by the throat, choking me. He grabs a razor blade, and cuts me once across each cheek. He then throws me down onto the table. Xymn turns to the other man, "Put her back into the stasis tube. Increase the electro-cloud to Level 12." The man looks up in surprise. "Yes, my lord." Xymn strides out angrily while the first man picks my now limp body up and puts me back into the cylinder. He closes the door, and the density of the fog increases a ten fold. I stifle a scream, just before passing out.