Mura materialized in an entirely different room, one which he had never seen before. He was still within DIS Prison, but judging by the more open interior he assumed it was a transfer area. The area around him looked like an underground bunker, with concrete walls, floors and a matching ceiling above. It almost reminded him of a parking garage, but with several armed guards placed strategically about.
Restrictive cuffs bound his arms behind his back with magic that immobilized/paralyzed his hands completely. A mouth guard was placed over his lower face, preventing him from opening his jaw. The combo deal on restraints must have been added while he was teleported away from his cell. It was worrying, but at least he could still breathe and swallow. An armed guard approached Mura from behind.
“Like the new look? It’s the autumn collection,” he laughed sarcastically as a second guard in front of Mura motioned for him to walk forward.
“We’ve seen all the shit you’re able to pull, all the sick things you’ve done. If there’s any justice at all, you’ll be executed come sunrise.”
Mura gulped and felt his heart begin to race. Everything that had calmed him down during his talks with Crow were coming back full force. Reality began to set in as the possibility of death tumbled around the emptiness of his mind, like a marble in a tin can.
—Why are they treating me like some kind of serial killer?!
The guard jabbed the butt of his rifle into Mura’s back, making him stumble forward.
“Move it!!” the guard demanded.
Mura nodded silently and started walking. Around him were several other guards in the bunker-like setting; stationed like soldiers at a castle’s gate.
They walked toward a large black armored van as Mura’s eyes ran over the signs posted on the walls. He appeared to be in a prisoner transport bay, one of many for an institution this massive. A guard Mura hadn’t seen yet stood ready before him, opening the door to the back of the van.
The inside of the van was well lit, with emergency aid kits, a seat for a passenger in the back and several harnesses attached to the walls of the van’s interior. There was a bench on each side, with four harnesses on each side. The black belted straps were like something one would see at an amusement park, designed to cross over the chest.
Someone was already strapped into the van, held in place without any form of comfort or movement allowed. This person had on restraints similar to Mura’s, yet something was familiar about them. Their hair style and stature, along with a girlish face that Mura could make out anywhere.
It was Lilith, alive but looking rough. She was wearing a white jumpsuit with orange bands around the upper arms, marking her as a Thrall. Her hair was frazzled and clumped into knots from days of poor treatment and hardship.
—Lilith!! Oh my gods, she’s still here and alive!!
Mura’s eyes widened, but that was the extent of the emotion he could show. Lilith turned to face him, the area under her eyes swollen and red. Her eyebrows turned upwards as she struggled to cry out in vain.
“In the vehicle, inmate. Enjoy the reunion, it’ll be the last chance you’ll get.”
The guard pushed Mura towards the back of the escort van as another guard jumped in the back as well, taking up the role of overseeing the both of them.
Mura stepped onto the lip of the van located underneath the bumper, hoisting himself up into the van with some discoordination throwing him off due to the lack of hands to grab on. The guard within the vehicle had already buckled himself in, still holding an assault rifle. He motioned for the crouching prisoner to take the seat furthest away from Lilith.
Obeying, Mura sat down on the bench opposite of Lilith’s in the seat located near the exit. As he did, the magical beam of energy linking Mura’s handcuffs together extended; allowing him to have his arms directly at his sides. Each cuff suddenly snapped into the wall as if they were being held there by a super-magnet of some kind.
With Mura’s arms practically melded to the steel interior, a guard stepped up into the van. He fastened Mura’s chest straps, sealing him in place just as Lilith currently was. With that, the guard nodded to his buddy in the back and slammed the van doors shut.
Just like that, Mura and Lilith were sealed inside; off to be escorted to their inevitable doom. The lights inside dimmed to a dull red as the vehicle powered on, humming to life.
Mura looked over at Lilith again, trying to convey through the limited light and facial expressions he had at his disposal that everything would be alright. It had to be after all. Something in the back of his mind was pleading at him that this wasn’t really happening. That if, somehow, he denied it enough then it would magically cease to exist.
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However, denial got Mura nowhere. At this point, all he could do was try to keep Lilith from crying as he himself fought against the rippling waves of anxiety and dread.
The black van drove out of the docking area and around through the different spiraling roads underground, going past three separate security checkpoints. After five minutes of navigating the maze of underground tunnels heading towards the surface, the van exited the rectangular entrance of a reinforced concrete bunker. It resembled a small rectangular mound barely poking out of the ground.
If Mura had been able to see out of the windowless carriage he found himself in, he’d see swarms of armored men with weapons positioned around the area. Multiple control towers littered the outside area leading to DIS, along with a few other bunkers leading to different parts of the underground prison. The entire location brought to mind the bleakness and uniformity of a barren airport tarmac. Snaking around everything outside was a massive wall of metal, towering up to prevent unwanted intruders.
As the van drove past the gate and cleared another security checkpoint, it left the prison tarmac and continued along a dusty, well-worn road leading out several kilometers to the relatively simple looking border. It turned, leading away from the prison and onto the primary asphalt road stretching toward the interstate.
Only twenty minutes until both condemned inmates reached their final destination.
❇ ❇ ❇
Grand Sanctum of Demiurge — Ten minutes until Mura’s trial. The large courtroom had been barred from off everyone, save a few higher ups in the know. Only three of the Jikininki were seated: Kishin, Nergal and Lamia. Wendigo was busy with a hunt and Grendel was doing an interview for a television special. The others couldn’t be bothered with such a trifle.
As instructed, the public and media had no inkling of Mura’s fall and subsequent arrest. To them, he was still the newly crowned Tenth that had risen from the dregs of society to a higher status and a higher cause. The empire would likely concoct an elaborate tail at some point, revealing Mura’s treachery. It would have occurred instantly, but such an abrupt expulsion would reflect badly on the empire’s judgement.
Within the judge’s private quarters were Hurr Nidar and Naraka. The room was nearly dark, save for a single table lamp with a red shaded covering. Exotic potted plants were around the room, as were a few wooden masks and a black lacquered sculpture of his deity, Kagutsuchi. A few candles were lit underneath by the demonic babe’s feet.
Their strategy had gone according to plan so far. Under the pretense of it being his first high-profile trial, the Council was more than happy to allow Nidar the privilege. Still, they had to execute the sentencing perfectly without raising suspicion. Nidar could easily say one thing, but Mara could have it overturned without the proper reasoning.
Naraka had his chin rested atop his intertwined fingers, sitting in a leather chair and contemplating their next move. They had now began a game of chess with powers far beyond them, and it was a game that wouldn’t conclude anytime soon.
“Is he here yet?” Naraka asked, not moving a muscle.
“Not yet. I received word not long ago that Mura’s transport was en route towards the Sanctum,” Nidar replied, sitting at his desk. “Remain calm, take a deep breath. Sing a song if it’ll make you happy!”
“You sound like my mother…” Naraka sighed with a smirk, remembering a tune from what seemed like a lifetime ago.
The both of them sat quietly as Nidar went over his paperwork and Naraka began to meditate, focusing his Tamashiryoku. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Nidar placed his hand on Naraka.
“It is time, come.”
Naraka nodded silently, having been lost in a deep trance of the mind. He stood up, dressed only in formal robes. He had no need for armor here, after all.
The purple-haired man walked out of the private quarters and into the courtroom. He stood by the luxurious table reserved for the guilty. Reserved for his student.
Lamia had removed her signature hat, allowing her silken scarlet locks to fall down around her shoulders and obscure half of her face. Kishin looked oddly serious, with all traces of his smile wiped away for the time being. Nergal had one foot delicately crossed over the other, his hands laid out comfortably on his lap. He watched Naraka carefully, like a falcon eyeing potential prey from on high.
The courtroom doors opened, allowing Mura and Lilith to walk inside with the assistance of the bailiff. Both were still wearing their prison suits with masks and chains attached as well. Naraka’s heart sunk at seeing his protégé in such a pitiful state. Despite this, he was confident their plan would succeed. It had to, after all.
Mura and Lilith were led to the table, with Naraka suppressing the urge to embrace his student. He had to appear like a shamed teacher, ignorant of his pupil’s suffering.
Mura looked up at Naraka, his eyes defeated and near hopeless. Naraka nodded at Mura in subtle affirmation, trying to assure him he had his best interests in mind.
The convicted stood behind his seat as his Thrall stood by hers. Judge Nidar teleported out of thin air, appearing behind his desk in front of the jury. As he did, the bailiff called out.
“All rise for the honorable Judge Hurr Nidar!”
As instructed, the jury and anyone else who wasn’t seated stood. As they did, Nergal walked forward and past the jury box. He sauntered over to the table opposite of Mura’s, causing his eyes to grow wide. Nidar looked out at the near empty room and steadily took his seat.
“You may be seated,” he said, now comfortable behind his desk.
Everyone sat, just as they were told. Mura’s heartbeat quickened as the moment of judgement arrived. Nidar spoke out to the courtroom, his deep and commanding voice rang out as Nergal’s presence etched panic into Mura’s mind. All the while, Nergal had a solemn and constructed expression set on his face. He had only one goal in mind: to see this boy meet his demise.
“The Court calls the case of the Holy Empire of Yomi vs. Mura of Gakidō to order. Let us begin.”