A week had gone by since he fought his sister. Every night, he was unable to forget the sensation of his fist plunging through the flesh and bone of his sister’s core. The only thing that reassured him that she was not dead was that he saw Team Zero catching her fall through the skies of Terra in one of their Stealth Craft, so fast and silent that even he could not have perceived them--or perhaps he was too weak to. He had been captured in the same vehicle, but after the handcuffs went around his wrists, Rhona was taken away from his sight on a gurney. Despite all their differences in ideology, upbringing, and allegiances, he could not imagine murdering his dear younger sister. He was already disappointed in the fact that the only way their fight could’ve been stopped was that he, the stronger and more experienced combatant, had to bring her to a state of near-death.
Many within the Central Council argued to have him executed immediately for both treason and the assault on the General, but Lieutenant General Salomon and Major General Sjogren were able to convince them that the decision was to be made by Rhona Karesti herself as soon as she was physically able to. Besides, they had more pressing matters to attend to. They were at war.
Of course, Gareth was unaware of any of this. Kept in the lowest level of Xanadu Penitentiary which consisted of a single, windowless cell, he simply waited patiently.
Given that he was a member of the Karesti bloodline, albeit illegitimate, and was respected by his brother Emperor Halsten prior to his disappearance, he was allowed the luxury of a warm bed and a small desk, as well as a physical pen and notepad so that he could remain sane. He was also allowed free range of the cell and was not bound by the wrists or ankles to the walls.
The last person to have resided in the cell, Emperor Piran Solich, did not receive the same treatment. Haldor Karesti made sure that the man he had deposed watched every remaining family member he had left be executed and was made to throw the last handfuls of rocky soil on each of their graves in the courtyard of their own palace. Afterwards, he had Piran dig his own grave and shoot himself in the mouth standing in front of the open grave so that he would fall into it as he took his final breath. Such was the end of the last man with the great Solich name.
Outside, ten stories up, another story played. A person clad in the armor of Team Zero entered the main floor of the Penitentiary, met by a half dozen ordinary guards who were expecting someone astutely, two of whom sat behind desks. Behind them was not the immediate sight of a row of cells, but rather a wall with a single door in the centre.
“Present your name and business.” the man who seemed to be the head of the units said to their colleague who worked in a much different sector of the Military.
“Stalking Packer. I am going to see the inmate occupying Level Unterwelt.” the Team Zero soldier said through their voice distorter. One of the guards scrolled through a list of names on their Communicator, stopping when he recognised one of the code names used by Team Zero. This was one of a few measures they used to keep their identities secret from all but the General.
“Packer, got it,” the guard nodded. “You’re good to go.”
“First, take this,” the head guard said, presenting the Team Zero soldier with a slap-on bracelet that was to be put on later. “This will be so that we can track your location without having cameras all over you. Change out of your armor and remove your weapons and place them in the cubbies in the room behind us. Once you’re done that, you will put that bracelet on and open the door. The warden, Lieutenant Colonel Lambert Ernst, will be waiting to escort you through a pre-planned route where we will shut off the cameras. He’s asked that we only tell him that you’re just a visitor. He won’t know who you are other than you’re a visitor we’ve thoroughly screened.”
“You have my thanks.” Packer nodded, waiting for one of the guards to punch in a code that opened the locker room. Once they entered, the door was shut behind them, and they were alone in a dimly lit room. On either side were cubbies that were five spaces high and 10 spaces long. Only about 20 of them were filled. It seemed that it was not a busy day at Xanadu Penitentiary.
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Packer went straight to work removing their gear, removing the voice distorter attached to their helmet, and gradually removing the two layers of bulky armor they had to use to camouflage their gender. Packer wore a kind of tunic that was mostly shapeless but had a deep V-shaped neckline, reaching the ankles with tight sleeves that ended at the wrists, revealing well-toned biceps. This was common attire for non-military Titanian women besides the customisation done to the neckline, and it was Packer’s intention to appear as civilian-like as possible. She let down her back-length, wavy platinum hair behind her shoulders. She donned a pair of slippers that waited at the second door on the other side of the room.
“I’ve been awaiting your presence,” Warden Ernst said. “Welcome to Xanadu Penitentiary.”
“Thank you, warden. Or should I call you Lieutenant Colonel?” Packer asked.
“I’m only ever called the warden around here.” Ernst smiled somewhat proudly as he led Packer through a cell reserved for minor offenders, Titanians who committed theft or damage amounting to less than 500 shillings. For a man who took his job as seriously as he did, he certainly found pleasure in letting people know about it.
The prisoners of the row ceased bickering amongst each other and stirring around in their cells as the man who kept them locked in until the hour, minute and second their sentence ended met their gaze. Packer noticed he did not make a single expression, neither of disdain of the criminals he protected society from now nor gratification in seeing them in lowly circumstances, while most guards tended to.
“You really like this job, don’t you?” Packer asked at some point in the elevator journey to the deepest level of the Penitentiary. Packer shivered slightly on command, to give the impression that she was not very comfortable with where she was going. In truth, she had been trained for years to be completely unfazed by her surroundings. Her level of stoicism exceeded that of nearly every Titanian soldier besides her Team Zero colleagues and was on par with if not even superior to that of the only person she answered to.
“At this point, it is the only thing I can do,” he shrugged. “Central Council has been pressuring me to retire, and it’s just about time. I only have four or five years left at most.”
“I don’t think anyone can run this place as good as you. It’s a shame. You look like you really have this place in order.” Packer feigned a compliment. She did not care for Ernst and in fact believed that the 41-year-old veteran was an eyesore.
“That may be true, but I’ve been preparing,” Ernst sighed. “You saw that lad leading the rest at reception? He’s the next in line to running this lovely abode.”
Captain Nagel, she remembered the man’s name tag. “Oh really? Give him my best wishes. I’m sure he’ll do a great job.”
“I will. May I… ask you something? Forgive me, but curiosity can get the best of even someone like me.”
“Oh, of course. Go ahead.”
“What does a well-mannered lady like you have to do with the worst scum our Empire has ever seen? I apologise for my bluntness, but this is something totally foreign to me.”
“What does he have to do with me?” she repeated his question but made sure not to sound like she was talking back at him. “I knew that man before he was the Red Devil or the Angel Slayer. He’s a friend of mine. A very good friend. No matter what he’s done, he deserves to be able to a familiar face. Wouldn’t you agree, Warden?”
“I…” Ernst took a half-step back as Packer got uncomfortably close to him, trying as hard as he could to not glance at her slightly exposed cleavage. “I suppose so.”
Deep down, he knew that Packer was not a normal Titanian woman. He could feel the powerful Reserve she intentionally kept not fully suppressed, even though it was quite marginal from her point of view.
“I’m glad we’re on the same wavelength.” Packer grinned as the elevators opened. What could barely be called a hallway, probably one or two arm spans long, separated the elevator from Gareth’s cell. Ernst hurriedly exited the hallway to give Packer her final instructions.
“You will have half an hour with him. I shouldn’t have to remind you about what you shouldn’t be doing in there. Once time’s up, you will be alerted by a buzzing sound from that bracelet, and I will pick you up. Understood?”
“Yes, Warden.” she winked at him.
Ernst pushed on a button beside the door and spoke to Gareth.
“Devil, your visitor’s here. Half an hour and you’re done. Don’t be up to any funny business… you’re only as mortal as a Terran man. Remember that.”
The door shunted open, sliding into the wall surrounding it. Gareth rubbed his eyes, unable to see the warden who had returned into the elevator as quickly as he came to the door. He saw a figure stepping into his cell, and the sounds of the door returning to its initial position.
As his sight adjusted, he refused to believe he was seeing who had appeared before him.
“An… Anwen…?” he gasped, the biggest show of emotion he’d made in his captivity.
“I told you to be expecting a visitor, didn't I?” she said, her arms crossed.