Ariada walked slowly through the featureless white halls of one of Haxares’ corridors, making sure to keep her eyes directed towards the white floor tiles. The guards’ attire was also white, and beyond the heavily-secured confines of the compound, the landscape was nothing but the endless icy white wastes. The overload of that single color was enough to give her a headache. In contrast, her jumpsuit was a bright red, meaning that she and any other prisoner held at Haxares stood out at all times. The incessant saturation of white was a sensible security measure but it was also disturbing to the eye. Even the food tended to be white. Metaphorically, it was as if Haxares sought to cure those interned there by submerging them in light, both the glaring ubiquitous white of the surroundings and