Every day they order Alix to wake up, and he wakes up. They order him to eat, and he eats. They order him to get up, and he gets up. They order him to enter the white room, and he enters. They order him to lie down, and he lies down. And then, as they tie his hands and feet with some of the many ironworks, ribbons and straps that are in the room, Alix, who is not aware that he was released, falls asleep. It is the moment in which his brain registers each and every one of the words that were said to him, and he does it so avidly, unconsciously, but avidly. However, the darkness rapidly falls, stifling any hint of brain activity in a few seconds. Again the impenetrable blackness, again the night.