[Saturday | 10 November 2266]
I’d been stuck in the cell for eight weeks, and Mikel still hadn’t visited. Each day, a bouncer left a nutrition bar for me. Not once was it coffee. The EMP field has been active this entire time. At least Her Eminence couldn’t see through my eye, or speak directly into my brain.
After eight long weeks, the frustration, the isolation, the lack of light—all of it—was really fucking me up. I punched and kicked the walls with all of my cybernetic-free strength. I kept going until lights out.