Zeno came to an abrupt halt.
His feet scraped against the stone floor as he slowly turned around, confusion spreading across his face. His mind raced, thoughts colliding with one another as he searched for the source of the voice.
"Who was that?" he muttered.
The guard escorting him had also stopped. He narrowed his eyes toward the corridor from where the voice had echoed, though he couldn't make out anyone in the darkness.
"I don't know," the guard replied with a shrug. "Probably one of the other guards."
"But the soldiers never call me by my name," Zeno insisted.
His voice carried uncertainty, but beneath it was something stronger.
Recognition.
There was something about that voice…
Something painfully familiar.
It tugged at a memory buried deep within him.
Without another word, Zeno suddenly bolted down the corridor toward where the voice had come from.
"Wait!! Where are you going?" the guard shouted after him.
Zeno ignored him.
"Could it be…?"
