"Help!" I hear myself screech through bleeding lips, even though I know that nobody will either hear or listen.

Calypso is out cold beside me, her arms scratched and rubbed raw from the chains that hold her arms up high above her head.

My arms are in the same position, but in a worse condition. They are not only red and rubbed, but bleeding. Dried blood has run down from my wrists to my neck, and the blood that has pooled in the cavity of my collar bone is still a bit wet. I can feel it's dampness like ice-cold fingers on the back of my neck.

On my other side is Festus, partially broken and whirring in pain. But I know that he'll be okay. Fstus is a machine. The thing that concerns me most right now is Calypso's well-being.

This is miserable. Worse than miserable. My darling Calypso is starving and in pain, yet is unable to be put out of her misery, because she is immortal.

But just because she can't die doesn't mean that she can't get hurt.

It hurts me to be held captive like this, but it hurts even more to see Calypso hurt like this.

That is my true pain.

My true pain...

I wake up with a start, the dream lingering in my brain: "My true pain... My true pain... Pain..."

I try to gather my thoughts together. I was dreaming that I was someone who was trapped in a dungeon, chained up, and with Calypso. I was dreaming from the vantage point of someone who clearly cared for Calypso. I was dreaming that my only true pain was Calypso's pain. I was dreaming that Festus was beside me, broken in pieces.

If the dream was a prophecy, it can only mean one thing. One thing that we all thought was impossible, one thing that we all know is impossible.

Leo is alive.