A summoner at twenty years old was supposed to be in the happiest period of their life. Zachary at the age of twenty was a convicted murderer. His life now existed only in a cramped and bare cabin. This was his prison cell for the past forty days, inside an unknown ship that was steaming toward an uncertain destination.

As the sky outside the porthole gained its first like, an alarm started blaring throughout the corridor. At the same time, the metal floor beneath him shuddered as the ship slowed down. The voices of fellow prisoners in nearby cells joined the cacophony; shouting, cursing, and sometimes crying.

Zachary groaned and curled up on the cold floor, covering his ears with his hands. The headache was back. It began between his eyes and spread out in all directions as if a railroad spike was being pounded into his skull. The noise made it even worse.

The pain reminded him of what he had lost, not just as a person but as a summoner. They ruined his life but they also wounded his soul beyond repair. Now, he could only summon the weakest creatures. He would never be able to grow any stronger than his current state. For a summoner with dreams and desires, this was worse than death itself.

Gradually, the ship came to a halt. The alarm stopped and a crisp voice replaced it.

"This is the captain. We have arrived. Guards, bring the prisoners above deck. Prisoners, any disobedience will result in immediate execution. That is all."

The announcement ended and a chill swept through the corridors. The threat from the captain hung in the air, thick and suffocating like death itself.

Zachary stood up. He ignored the chill of the metal floor against his bare feet. He silently waited, his heart pounding with equal ferocity as his headache.

The guards soon arrived in force. They began gathering the prisoners one by one. He was in block H, room eighty-eight. That was all he knew of the ship.

“Prisoner…”

One of the guards was only a few rooms away, their voice barely audible.

"Prisoner Derrick Mason... twenty-four years old…"

The guard came closer and Zachary could make out more of what they were saying.

"Prisoner Heather Glenn-Bower… Thirty years old… Adept rank summoner. Murdered two husbands? Haha, impressive. Perhaps you will soon find your third victim here. Get in line."

Heavy footsteps finally arrived in front of his door. He strongly considered making a break for it. If the guard was also an adept rank summoner, he could deal with them. Then he could incite the other prisoners to riot.

There was a clank as the lock was undone and the door swung in. A shadow fell over the doorway as a face appeared. Instantly, Zachary lost his will to resist.

The face was twice as large as a human’s. It had a prominent forehead, little black eyes in deeply sunken sockets, and wide nostrils that flared with each breath. It smiled, revealing long yellow fangs that sharply contrasted with its shiny gray fur.

The tiny room was filled with a sense of savagery, raw power, and brutish arrogance. Zachary took a step back instinctively. His back hit the wall behind him and there was nowhere to run from the danger.

It wasn’t just the beastly face but the massive body that blocked the way. Beneath the fur, thick muscles rippled with the slightest movement. Its limbs were as thick as tree trunks and could probably rip a person into pieces with ease.

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This was an Ensouled, a living being that had formed an individual soul. There were countless species of Ensouled across the world. Each one had abilities suited for their natural environment and method of survival. This one specifically was known as an iron fur gorilla and Zachary knew exactly what it was capable of.

"Move."

At the terse command, the gorilla awkwardly shuffled backward. A middle-aged man with a trimmed beard and a sharp moss-colored uniform appeared. It was the guard. The Ensouled was his summoned beast.

"Prisoner Zachary Zhang. Twenty years old. Adept rank summoner." The man paused, squinted his eyes at the words on the page, and let out a wheezy laugh, "Four counts of murder, ten counts of attempted murder. Very impressive… a mass murderer at such an age. Don't you think so, Gray Hand?"

The gorilla answered with a series of grunts, whoops, and other noises.

"Hahaha, right, what an idiot!" The guard said.

Zachary remained expressionless but inside, he was yearning to shout out in retort. He wanted to say that he was innocent, that he had done those things only in self-defense, that the trial had been a sham.

But he knew that nothing he could say here would make any difference. There had been a trial, sham or not, and it had been all over the papers. In the eyes of the Republic of Adorin, he was guilty of his crimes and as good as dead.

"Whatever, get in line." The guard said, losing interest. The gorilla also left the doorway.

Zachary stepped out of the cabin. He blinked as he tried to adjust to the darkness of the corridor. He took the open spot in front of a woman, the prisoner from the previous room, Heather Glenn-Bower. They were dressed alike; bare feet, dirty hair, and a simple outfit that consisted of a brown short-sleeved shirt and brown pants that had not been washed in forever. Her face was pale and her expression dispirited. He imagined that he probably looked the same.

The prisoners behind her were difficult to make out. At the very end of the line, an oversized head popped out. It belonged to another iron fur gorilla. It brought up the rear and its hulking stature loomed over the prisoners, discouraging them from trying to escape.

The guard went ahead and continued gathering prisoners. The line grew slowly and they shuffled forward like marching tortoises.

They kept going until they reached room one hundred of block H. After that, the guard veered off into a side corridor and went up a set of narrow stairs that were more akin to ladders. The gorilla went next, not actually using the stairs but simply reaching up with its heavy arms and climbing through the hole in the ceiling.

The prisoners followed. One after another, they climbed one set of stairs, then another. After three levels, they finally emerged onto the top deck of the ship.

Zachary took the first whiff of warm ocean air. He brushed some long strands of black hair out of his eyes and looked around, squinting under the orange rays of the rising sun. The ship was huge, a solid metal construction with a flat, featureless deck that was as large as several training fields and a tall superstructure at the rear that contained the bridge. White steam wafted from a single smoke stack and a large blue and white flag hung from the mast, drifting in the breeze.

This was unmistakably a navy ship. He had seen illustrations of them in books and even admired them. Why such a ship was being used to transport prisoners was unclear. They were all death-row prisoners. A simple beheading would have sufficed.

"Keep moving!" A nearby guard shouted.

Zachary lowered his head and kept up with his line. They were herded into neat rows of ten, facing the rear of the ship. Each row was stacked ten deep before another formation began.

Prisoners continued to gather until the sun had fully risen and daylight was bright and clear. All told, there were thousands of them, tightly packed and guarded on all sides by numerous guards, their powerful summons, and the ship’s crew.

A short while later, a woman in a starch-white navy uniform appeared on a balcony below the bridge. Her face was thin and weathered, her stature was diminutive. She raised a white-gloved hand to her forehead, palms inward. A summoner's salute.

All of the guards returned the same salute in unison.

"Captain Willis, all prisoners are present and accounted for." A sailor below the balcony reported.

"Good." The captain said, observing the crowd below.

Her gaze came with an invisible wave of pressure against his soul. Zachary’s throat tightened as he was struck by a feeling of insignificance and self-loathing. It was far worse than standing face-to-face with that iron fur gorilla. He didn’t know what summoner rank she had achieved, only that it had to be far above his own.

Captain Willis spoke again after a long silence, her expression was as cold as her voice, "You have finally arrived at your new home, the New World!"