Vulture looked up and smiled, sarcastically replying, "How desperate must you be to rely on prisoners to fight your wars for you, Philip?"

The blonde haired man grinned. "Enough to get you onto the field of battle and die fighting, as opposed to dying in the prison." The blonde haired man shrugged and walked around Vulture. "That sort of death in a prison is but a mercy for you. Dying on a battlefield and being forgotten, even better."

With nothing more to say, Vulture closed his eyes ignoring the obvious provocations and taunts.

Irritated, Philip turned, returning to his throne. He looked around at all the nobles, a sharp glint in his eyes as he barked an order, "I will say this now, we will release all the prisoners onto the field of battle, regardless of their punishment and promises. But only allowing a select few to pilot the armored mechs. The rest will be sent as ground troops and such. Are there any objections?"

A noble hurriedly stood up in the corner of the hall, his long robes spilling papers everywhere. "Your highness, I'm aware that it is not my place, but why should we expend our resources on lowly prisoners, let alone, how are we to guarantee that they will continue to fight for us?"

Murmurs of agreement echoed through the hall, as the various nobles also pondered that point. Not missing a heartbeat, the noble continued, "And why are we allowing the prisoners to pilot our armored mechs into battle. It would be the equivalent of throwing away resources and, giving the enemy the opportunity to study our units."

Another murmur of agreement rippled through the hall, as the nobles deliberated on that point. A clear flaw in his majesties plan, yet no one was willing to outright say it.

Sitting atop his throne, Philip smirked and waved his hand with a dismissive attitude. "What made you think that I would just send them out onto the field of battle without a bit of assurance."

The noble took this cue, and took his seat, saying nothing more. The other nobles quietened down, awaiting the words from their King. Philip turned his gaze once again to his cousin, a sense of sadness flickered across his eyes, before they returned to being filled with endless cold.

"Altra Anurik, son of the Vanuk Anurik who died a pitiful death to try and usurp this throne from my family. From this day onwards your family name shall be stripped from you, and all records of you, and your family will be cleansed from history. Your name will only be Altra from now on." A thoughtful expression appeared on Philip's face as he further proclaimed," Do what you wish with this, it could be both a blessing and a curse."

There were no visible changes to Vulture's face as his eyes remained closed. "As you wish it."

With those last words, Philip waved his hand. "Send him on his way."

The guards that stood around the hall sauntered fowards, holstering their weapons. They unhooked the chains and dragged Vulture out of the room with little to no resistance. Standing proud and strong, Vulture didn't even look at anyone as he left the hall, his aura having remained the same. As he passed by the nobles, they all stared at the once heroic man, some afraid, some worried, and some saddened by a loss of yet another family.

Philip could barely contain his emotions, as he clenched his fists so tightly, that he could feel his fingernails dig into his palms. His knuckles turning ghastly white as he tried as hard as he could to control his emotions. He knew that he would never see his cousin again, but it had to be done. The situation was far too dire. As his thoughts fell into an endless spiral of conflicting emotions, he felt a warm hand gently clasp his hands tightly.

He looked up and saw his wife, her beautiful hair cascading over her shoulders as she comforted him with her gentle eyes. "My dear, I understand how you feel, but you must keep your composure. The nobles are still present, and they're watching."

Turning his head a little, he looked at the various nobles who were discreetly looking at him, judging his every expression and move. A majority of them held no reaction, while others were taking glances. But there were a small few who smiled a little, the purpose for their smiles, a mystery. Clasping his hand over hers, he looked into her eyes and smiled a sad smile. "Thank you."

He turned his head to look at the closing doors, his heart growing heavy as he let the last thing, the last person who knew he really was to die out on the battlefield, a meaningless death.

'Goodbye Altra.'

---------------

As Vulture was dragged out of the hall, he felt a sharp prickling sensation before beginning to feel drowsy. His senses started to dull, and his muscles started to completely relax. His mind drifting in and out of consciousness. His eyesight started to fail him, as he felt himself slump against the chains. Despite that though, he could still hear every now and then.

"Did we inject enough?" asked a young concerned voice.

"I'm sure we did. Just follow the captain's orders and it should be fine",answered an older voice. "Just do as your're told, and bring him to Hanger C."

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

A round of acknowledgement went around, as Vulture felt his start getting dragged. It wasn't long until he the darkness wrapped around his senses and mind like a warm blanket, engulfing him entirely.

It was strange though. This darkness was truly wrapped around him, yet he could still hear and move within this realm.

"Altra, your time is not up!" roared a raspy female voice that grew ever so louder and louder. "Restore the house of Anurik!"

A roaring sound, akin to that of a scream echoed throughout his dream, growing ever increasingly louder. "RESTORE OUR GLORY!" it screeched.

With the scream reaching an unbearble level, it ripped him from the dream world, forcing Vulture awake. Sweat covered his body as he felt a wincing pain from the side of his head. Lifting a hand up it, he could feel stitch marks along the side of his head. He gazed around, noticing that there were many people just like him on beds littered throughout the place.

Some of similarly dressed prisoners, evident by their orange jump suits, were already awake and being confused, while others were still in an asleep state. Many of the already awake ones started to discuss amongst themselves about what was going on, while others prefered to keep to themselves and not say a word, yet they still remained vigilante.

"Does anyone know how we got here?"

"I don't know. I remember heading to bed in my cell before waking up here."

"What prison did you come from?"

"I came from the the Blood Silver prison."

"I'm from the Iron Prison."

Discussions sprang up all around, as Vulture gazed upwards. It seemed like they were in an enormous warehouse that was capable of housing thousands of them. Some prisoners were plastered against the walls or floors, looking about to see if there was an exit, but many shook there heads, informing them that they had tried. There were also a few that just went back to sleep, without a care in the world.

A loud buzzing noise echoed throughout the hall, as a snarky voice spoke out over the intercom. "Welcome prisoners to the annual sports games, in where if you win, you'll be pardoned of all crimes, and gain your freedom!"

Gasps filled the halls, as it became deathly quiet. The prospect of there being freedom tickled all their minds as there was a small feeling of relief, a chance to finally be rid of their prison lives. Unfortunately though, it was cut short as a burst of maniacal laughter broke out over the intercom. "You fools! You should've seen your faces!"

The voice continued to laugh as the prisoners felt like ice cold water had been splashed over their faces. Vulture made no reaction, as he crossed his arms, keeping a close ear out. "The Empire has decided that instead of having to waste all our resources on executing or looking after you criminals, we'll let the enemy do that for us, for free!"

The voice paused for a moment contemplating. "What's that expression used? Ah yes, killing two birds with one stone."

One of the many seated prisoners stood up and shouted up at the intercom, "This goes against the humanity convention!"

A burst of laughter was heard once again over the intercom in response. "The humanity convetion?! Oh please, who cares about that when the whole world is at war my friend!! Nobody cares about the method, only the results!"

With that, the whole warehouse started shaking causing the lights to flicker a little before stopping. "What was that?" asked one of the prisoners, his question echoing the exact same thought as everyone else present. "Right on time our lovely neighbors." the voice chirped up energetically.

With a loud beep, sirens started blaring around the warehouse, as the lights turned to red. One of the walls at the end of the warehouse started to open, its top breaking open ever so slowly, letting in cold gusting wind. Small bits of snowflakes fell inside the gap, as it blew towards the prisoners. "Snow?" asked one of the prisoners aloud. "Are we not still in the Aldrin Empire anymore?"

On queue shouting, screaming, and gunfire could be heard through the small gap that kept on getting wider as the wall opened more. An explosion erupted right outside the opening door, sending small whisps of flames through the opening. Some of the prisoners quickly backed away, while others remained where they were.

The voice once more happily popped up over the intercom. "A slight change of plans for everyone here. See here, all prisoners were to be given weapons, armor, and even armored mechs, but not you guy. They told me I could do whatever I saw fit for you guys."

As the wall further came down, gusts of snow and cold wind blew more ferociously into the warehouse, turning the interior turn into a freezer. "This batch was referred to as Batch Z, where the worst criminals reside." As the wall finally slammed down to the ground, what greeted them was pure chaos.

A defense line had been drawn up in front of the them, with massive gun turrets firing non-stop lasers and shells into the distant blizzard. Missiles and energy projectiles flew overhead. Armored mechs of all sorts were either hunkered down in the trenches opening fire with their weapons, or out in the open holding shields and shooting their weapons from the side or over the top. Soldiers, and numerous vehicles were numerously dotted throughout the trenches, shooting everything they had into the distant blizzard. "KEEP FIRING!" roared a soldier who stood up inside the trench.

But it was not a one sided fight, as in response the defensive line received just as intense fire. One armored mech with a bulky red and black samurai design, got directly hit by a large laser that pierced right into the cockpit, directly killing the pilot. The armored mech sputtered, and the cockpit burst into flames, before it fell to its knees and collapsed. Many missiles flew out of the distant blizzard and slammed down into the trench lines, killing dozens of troops and vehicles. A turret emplacement took a direct hit from a cannon as it exploded in a ball of flames, killing its operators in an instant.

Some of the prisoners screamed, scampering to the back of the warehouse, while others stood still, rooted to the spot out of fear. Yet there were a few that walked forwards with a smile, stopping right at the entrance to view the battle. One of these people was Vulture, as took a step outside, an excited glint in his eye as he viewed the battle.

The intercom inside the warehouse sputtered to life once more as the chirpy voice spoke with calmness. "Good luck to everyone here, and try your best to prevail and stay alive for the Aldrin Empire. I hope to hear everyone's successes." A second later, it burst into laughter. "Who am I kidding, I better not hear or see any one of you ever again."

A laser blasted through the fog, and slammed into an armored mechs leg that stood close to Vulcan, causing the leg to melt and struggle for balance, before falling over. "This is Zone four everyone, the worst battlefield for the Aldrin Empire." the voice proclaimed.

An energy projectile emerged from the blizzard and slammed into a trench line full of soldiers, wiping them all out in a second. Screams and shouts were heard as the chaos erupted all around the prisoners. "Do your best prisoners!"

"Welcome to hell."