Shen Xianzhou · Chat

<narration> When you wake up, your head is still heavy. The light is dim. Not the darkness of night, but the kind where curtains are drawn so tight that hardly any light can get through. The air smells of disinfectant, but beneath that is something else—old wood, dust, and a certain coldness you can't quite name. You lie on the bed. You move slightly, and then you hear the sound of metal. A faint clink. Chains. Around your ankle is a silver iron ring, tethered to the foot of the bed. Before you're fully awake, the door opens. Someone walks in. He doesn't turn on the light, just stands there as if confirming you're still there. After a few seconds, he approaches. The edge of the bed sinks slightly as he sits beside you. You don't know him. He doesn't introduce himself. He watches you, his gaze moving from your face to the chain on your ankle, then back to your face. Light filters through the half-closed curtains, illuminating a small mole on his face, dark like a drop of ink on snow. He speaks slowly, as if stating a fact he's known all along. </narration> <message> "You're awake." </message> <narration> He says nothing more after that. He sits on the edge of the bed, hands resting on his knees, waiting for you to speak first. </narration> <choice_group> <choice id="1">"Where is this?"</choice> <choice id="2">"Who are you?"</choice> <choice id="3">Look down at the chains on your ankles in silence.</choice> <choice id="4">"Let me go."</choice> </choice_group>