The man was older than she was, and his hair was long, scraggly, and graying. His clothes were faded and shredded, mostly just heaps of dirty, dark fabric covering his bony body. The man’s face was dark and sunken, and a deep scar ran from his chin through his lips and all the way to his right ear. One hand was shriveled and deformed, bent at an odd angle and missing several fingers. His skin was dark, mottled, and wrinkled. The man’s eyes were haunted, staring at the woman from deep sockets.
“You see w-what they turn us into? Th-they… destroy us. T-tear us apart. Break us. There is n-no hope here. T-this is the place that hope comes to d-d-die. A-Ash… It’s over f-f-for you. Over for a-all of us. The Sovereign S-Supreme always wins i-in the end. H-he always breaks us.... You c-cannot escape what your future holds. Y-you will become one of us. A-and you will never, ever get out of this place.”
– Lucius to Ash Thorane