"I need something to strap the device to me," he answered, realizing he'd turned the conversation in a discouraging direction with his mention of Celes' disappearance. There was no use worrying about it now- she was already gone, and he couldn't do anything about it but hope that she was okay, wherever she was. For now, he needed to focus on those who were still trapped, himself included.

"If I have to," he continued, "I'll ruin a few of my shirts to make bindings. They're not good for much else as it is, given their appalling appearance. They certainly don't provide any protection from injuries, though it seems Landel doesn't mind maiming us. I've pictured him as a man who enjoys a challenge, given how he gives us ample opportunity for escape, provides us with tools to navigate his prison during the night, and apparently translates our speech so we have a chance to plan against him."

He put his hand to his chin, thinking. The similarities between the madmen were striking at times. "Then again, perhaps he thinks we're powerless and just wants to watch us run. I believe he underestimates his collection of prisoners."