He spent the morning navigating the local landscape of medical supply stores. The first stop was a sterile, glass-fronted shop called 'Alpine Medical' tucked between a florist and a bank. Inside, the air smelled of ozone and clean plastic.

The sun hadn't even touched the horizon, but Elias was already awake, staring at the ceiling with the heavy, familiar fog of a sleepless night clouding his mind. His own snoring had become a rhythmic thunder that startled him awake every twenty minutes.

That night, the setup was a ritual. He filled the humidifier chamber with distilled water, clicked the hose into place, and pulled the headgear over his hair. When he pressed the start button, there was no roar, just a gentle, consistent sigh of pressurized air.