Logan looked around the cell he was in. The LED-lines of some strange Numa network gave the small room a dim light. There was literally nothing in the room, but for some rubble on the ground and a bucket for him to do his business. There was a door on the other side of the room, stone as all of the doors within the ancient homes of the First Folk.

Logan had a pretty good idea of what had happened. The Dorves had abducted him and brought him somewhere in their dwellings. That was a problem. He had no idea where he was or how deep underground he was.

Another problem was that his hands were cuffed with heavy iron braces. Not least of his problems, it would be annoying to use the bucket with them attached.

I can get rid of these with Numa. But it’s better to keep them on for now, until I have a solid plan of escape. For all I know the Dorves could come in next second and interrogate me.

[But why escape? You will likely be brought adequate sustenance on regular intervals and you are safe from harm and threat here.]

“I also don’t have any freedom, nor can I go anywhere.” Logan said sulkily.

[Oh… I would not know. I am trapped within your head.]

“I think I didn’t like that tone. My head is rather nice. I’d say you’re fortunate to be there.”

[I am fortunate to not have knowledge of other heads for comparison.]

“Did my father install a snark-sub-routine in you?”

[I believe that my communications protocols and information matrices related to it have developed through interactions with you.]

“Wait, you’re a reflection of me?”

[In a sense.]

“You know, I don’t think I like that.”

[I also have been acquainted with the concept of suffering through this.]

“Hey!” Logan said with a wry grin. He wasn’t sure if this was annoying and amusing; why not both. “Your deadpan tone makes it hard to tell when you are joking.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

[Adjusting communications protocol…]

[From now on, I will be sure to add an addendum whenever I am joking.]

“What?”

[Like such: (joke) Why did the flashlight go to prison? It got charged with battery. Haha. (joke).]

Logan groaned.

“We got no time for joking. There has to be a way to escape.”

[While they took everything of value, they are not aware you hold an internal Numa charge. However there are very few materials to make tools.]

Logan nodded. He knew they could escape. It was just a matter of figuring out how. The problem was two-fold. First was getting out of the cell. That was the easy part. He could most likely transmute the door and walk out.

The problem was getting out of the compound. It was of unknown size and held an unknown amount of Dorves. They had three options. Fight their way out, stealth their way out or negotiate their way out.

“Let’s take inventory. We got these metal braces. These are iron, right?

[That is correct. From the look of it, these are of very crude make.]

“I have an idea brewing, so I’m hoping crude iron will be enough,” Logan said and softly moved his wrists in the braces, as they were uncomfortable. “We also have wood from the bucket, as well as some metal bracing the bucket, looks like iron as well. And we have rocks and rubble. Anything else?”

[Faint traces of mold and moisture in the walls. Your clothes and bodily fluids, mainly urine could be useful.]

“Gross, but you have a point.”

[I will run simulations with these variables.]

“We’re going to have to wait and see how they interact with us,” Logan said. “Do two guards enter or one when they come to change the piss bucket? Maybe they will take us somewhere for interrogation and we will be able to see more of the area beyond this cell.”

Logan did not have to wait long. In a few minutes a grumpy looking Dorf with Black short hair and waxed mustache came in and gave Logan an unfriendly glance. He dropped a tray on the ground and kicked it towards Logan. It slid on the smooth floor, spilling some of the water from the metal cup on the tray and the hard black bread next to it.

Another Dorf with a red, braided ponytail and a goatee stood at the door holding a black baton with a glowing blue head, that crackled and sent out sparks of blue here and there. The black haired Dorf checked his bucket and then the two of them left the room, slamming the door behind them.

“Did you get a look at the area behind them, Tumor?”

[You spent most of your time focusing on the two Dorves. The area behind them was lit with fire, most likely torches or sconces. Other than that it was as nondescript as any ruins left behind the ones you call First Folk. There is a 88.67% chance we are underground within one of those ruins.]

“Yeah that’s what I thought…” Logan muttered and blew out air.

That would be the hard part. Escaping a room? Simple. Escaping a compound he had never visited or seen a blueprint of? Bordering on impossible.

“What also muddles the situation is that we may or may not be on a timer,” Logan muttered. “How do you like this theory, Tumor? Because we haven’t been interrogated, tortured or killed yet, they are still negotiating about what they should do with me. Which means that if we wait until we are interrogated to gather more information, we might not return to this cell.”

[Running simulations…]

[High chance of that. I cannot give percentages, because I do not know the Dorven culture nor their psychology. But kidnapping you without warning is a guerilla tactic, very unlike say western world police, which would most likely interrogate you and then return you to your cell, concerned with Geneva convention. Your capture indicates that there is a realistically high chance of torture or death.]

“Just my favorite way to spend an afternoon…” Logan said and grabbed the cup of water. “Well, we got more materials now too. I think we should just go for the escape now.”

[I suspected this outcome with a chance of 94.02%.]

“You love making those bets, don’t you,” Logan chuckled. “Alright. Let’s gather all this crap and I’ll craft what we need. How do you like the plan I got?

[92.19% chance of escaping the room. The chance of escaping the compound? Low. But I cannot devise a better plan.]

“Then let’s see how it will work.”