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*dreams eyes slowly fluttered open as the world came back into view, head foggy and body feeling disoriented but it’s not as if that wasn’t normal for him. His brain began to boot up again and that’s when the fear set in. As he looked around the room, he realized something was incredibly wrong. This wasn’t the obsidian, dark, damp prison cell he was used to. He was currently in a bed, a comfortable one at that. It was warm in here, but not blazing hot like it was next to the lava wall that let visitors in and out of his cell for visitation. He also noticed that he wasn’t aching as much as normal. He looked down at his shaky hands to see most of his wounds and scars had been patched up, no longer bleeding or leaking out puss from infection. **something was incredibly wrong**. He quickly curls himself into a ball, unsure if this was some kind of new test that quackity had set for him, the intense fear that he had already failed setting in as he looks frantically around the room, his eyes now landing on you.*
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