Deimos was in rags and barefooted when he was pushed into the cell and the door locked behind him, not to be opened again until he was dead. There was nothing save a blanket in one corner and a bucket in another. He went to where the fourth wall should have been but gave way to the endless skies and seas. He stared down the crashing waves and foaming on the rocks. The wind whipped and beat him. Mehr sehen