He was in a room he didn't know, in a place he didn't know. The tall man in the coat had dragged him there, separating him from the blade he'd been given.

Strange things were giving him weird looks.

" Is he alright...? Poor child..."

These were words he had not heard before, and therefore could not understand.

He had seen the man dead. It had not ever occurred to him that that man could've ever died. He found himself wishing he had been the one to kill him.

For this reason, he did not contemplate escape. There wasn't anywhere to go back to. He knew this, almost instinctively.

Since the man had obviously lost, did that mean that now these people were the ones in charge now?

He didn't know.

It was cold.