[ A long silent spell. It's a test. There's an easy way out, if he weren't too chickenshit to take it. Bullet to the head versus a girl wandering alone in the fucking jungle.

He closes his eyes. Dull, defeated: ] Listen, listen. I think it's winding down. Some of the lights around here, they're dimming. Announcements're getting sluggish. [ Unless that's him hearing things after hours of confinement, understimulation. ] Another twelve hours, a day [ —extremely generous estimates— ] maybe the whole place is out of commission.

[ And maybe that means the cells pop open, but maybe it means they're rendered incapable of doing so. ]