In the dark cell in the 9th District of Darkbane Prison, Cara reached her hand beneath her prison jumpsuit and lifted the hem, revealing pieces of bare skin.

Alexander frowned. This came as quite a surprise for him, especially since he never issued such an order to the young woman. The way the pact between a Lord of Agony and his supplicants was such that the supplicants maintained their thoughts, memories, and abilities to make decisions. They were still the same people as before, aside from the fact that they couldn’t actively do anything against the interest of their lord. At the same time, they couldn’t refuse a direct order from their superiors.

In other words, Cara was doing what she was doing by her own will.

“What is this?” Alexander couldn’t help but ask aloud, although deep down he had a glimpse of an idea of what was going on.

“Oh...this?” Cara said with a low and soothing voice as she lifted the shirt up even further. She was now revealing everything beneath her chest. “You have been under a lot of stress, my Lord. I am simply trying to relieve some of that.”

For a second, as Alexander was still staring at Cara in surprise, he caught a glimpse of her belly and her soft skin. Cara’s skin was surprisingly fine for someone thrown into a prison as gruesome as this one. As a member of the mafia family, she clearly had the proper skin care resources. And her skills with hand to hand combat ensured she was usually the one tormenting her cellmate, not the other way around. Sure, there was a few scars here and there, the result of the torture she endured at the hand of the guards, but most of these scars seemed distant. It seemed like with all the power turmoils that had been going on across the solar system, the daughter of a mafia family was trivial.

Of course, it was also possible she had been healing her scars.

Still, just as Cara was about to remove the jumpsuit altogether, Alexander diverted his eyes to the side. He could feel his cheeks turning red.

“Stop it.” He said. “That’s an order.”

Cara tilted her head in slight confusion, but ultimately, she obeyed. After letting the jumpsuit fall and cover her belly once again, the young woman couldn’t help but raise a question.

“Am I not pretty enough, my Lord?” She asked, pretending to be insulted.

Alexander drew in a deep breath, not quite sure how to answer the woman.

“This is not right.” He simply replied. “I am 15. Well, maybe 16, depending on how long I’ve been here. Honestly it feels like it’s been ages.”

He couldn’t help but sigh as the thought flashed across his mind. On his 15th birthday, nobles from all over the Empire came to Valoria and attended the party his father held. The gifts he received could form a mountain, and that was not an exaggeration. One year later, and here he stood, a prisoner.

In front of him, the dark haired woman continued as if she didn't see what he meant.

“So? I have been with at least two men by the time I was 16. It was fun. My Lord, with all due respect...” She shrugged and sat down next to Alexander. “We are stuck in a prison that has never had a single prison break. There are over a thousand soldiers on this island, ready to gun down anyone that tries to flee. The power you have gifted us is mighty, yet that doesn’t mean we will be able to make it off this island. In fact, a random bullet can take your life, my Lord.”

She tilted her head and examined the look on Alexander’s face. “We might as well enjoy it when we can, my Lord. I am sure the Disciples around us can warn us if any of the guards come our way. Until then...” Once again, the woman licked her lips in invitation.

Slowly, as Alexander didn't answer, the woman leaned toward the young man. Her lips were just about to press onto his before Alexander suddenly dodged to the side, refusing the temptation.

“Perhaps I will die on this island, never to claim my vengeance. If that is my fate, then so be it.” The young Wolf declared coldly as he stared into Cara’s eyes. “But until then, I will do everything in my power to prepare myself for the battles, the wars, to come. What fate throws at me is something I can’t control, but what I can control...is what I do before that. Now…”

He moved his arms and felt them crack.

“Let’s go another round.”

Cara nodded in obedience. Just as she got herself ready for another attack, Alexander suddenly frowned and raised his hand, stopping her in her tracks. With another order from Alexander, Cara turned around and laid down on a bed as if nothing was going on.

Half a minute later, a squad of troopers came to a stop in front of Alexander’s cell. There were six of them, but Alexander knew that even before they got to his cell. The Disciples in the cells closer to the entrance have noticed them already, and they immediately relayed this information to Alexander.

Three of the guards aimed their shotguns at Cara. They could see that she might be asleep, not that it mattered too much to them. As veteran guards of the Darkbane Prison, they have had quite the experience dealing with deceptive prisoners. Caution could save lives.

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The squad commander pressed a few keys on his MI and opened the electric gate. He turned to Alexander. “You. Out.”

Alexander nodded slowly in obedience. Ok...so this was another one of the routine torture sessions. These sessions have never really slowed down recently, and Alexander simply got used to them. They weren’t honestly that bad. The interrogators would ask him the same question as always. He would refuse, get beaten up...maybe skinned or burned a little. Eventually, he would be taken to the medic for some examination and then sent back to his dark cell.

With stumbling steps, he made his way to the door. The guards and his interrogators would grow really suspicious if his injuries healed all of a sudden, which meant he had been sparring with Cara and the other guards with extensive injuries the entire time. Not exactly a problem when the pain wasn’t really an issue.

One of the guards snickered at how slowly Alexander was walking, but the others simply waited in silence, once again too familiar with such scenes. As Alexander got to the door, one of the guards put a pair of alloy cuffs onto his wrists, restraining him, before leading him down the hallway.

The squad of guards escorted Alexander across a number of cells. Alexander could sense many of the cells being occupied by his own Disciples, but he explicitly ordered them to stay put. Now wasn’t the time to fight.

Alexander was taken out of that region of cells. It took a few minutes and over four machine gun positions set up by the guards before he arrived at the destination. An interrogation room, specifically designated to the inhabitants of the 9th District. In fact, it was one he had grown quite familiar with in the past weeks.

The interrogation rooms have all been built with sound-proof materials. The tortured prisoners could scream their lungs out inside and the sentries outside would barely be able to hear a thing. All the rooms have thick blast doors that could be pulled shut, sealing the room off completely and further silencing the screams and cries of the tormented.

The guards restrained Alexander on a leather seat. They did take off the cuffs on his wrists, only to follow that up by cuffing both his hands to the leather seat with two sets of metal handcuffs. This ensured he wouldn’t be getting out of the chair anytime soon.

Alexander couldn’t help but snicker as he felt the cold steel pressed against his skin. To his surprise, after he could no longer move, he saw a familiar figure walking into the interrogation room. It was Warden Henry Locke.

Alexander hadn’t seen Warden Locke since their very first meeting, when Locke tried to get Alexander to tell him what he wanted to know in exchange for a swift death. After Alexander refused and Warden Locke decided to instead beat the answer out of him, the good Warden left the dirty work to his underlings.

Yet the Warden’s presence here gave Alexander a very bad feeling. This wasn’t just one of the usual torture sessions. No...this was something that could very well end with him dead.

The Warden turned to the squad of guards.

“Two men with me. The rest of you get out. And shut the door on the way out.”

“Yes sir!” The captain of the guards saluted. He turned and made a hand sign to one of his subordinates, who joined the captain and took up a position at the corners of the cell. The rest of the squad saluted at the Warden before departing.

Finally, following the loud clank of the shutting door, the Warden started talking.

“You have been surprisingly tough.” The man started out by giving Alexander an odd compliment. “You have lasted longer than some of the most highly trained Republic spies I have gotten my hands on. After months of living in this hell, almost all of them broke and confessed everything they knew. Yet, a noble-born like you lasted through all that.” He snickered. “Perhaps upbringing is quite important indeed.”

He could see that despite all the wounds on his body and blood and dirt on his clothing, Alexander was somehow able to maintain the fierce look on his face. It was truly impressive.

“Months?” Alexander quickly ignored the meaningless part of the man’s words and got hold onto the more important bits. “I have been here for months? How many months?”

He was in no position to make demands, but the Warden satisfied his curiosity for one reason or another.

“Two months, to be precise. You have been here for two months.”

Slowly, the middle-aged man got up from his seat and started strolling around Alexander. Alexander grimaced as he walked behind him and out of his line of sight. The lack of vision made him uncomfortable, but he did his best to hide his unease, for that was a weakness the other people in the room would be all too happy to use against him.

“You know...when you were first sent here, Count Lamb had a few things in mind for you.” Warden Locke explained, lurking out of Alexander’s vision from time to time. “Sure, if I could get the names of who helped you, then great. But at the same time, Count Lamb had been making those around him aware that you are here, in Darkbane Prison. He wanted to lure potential traitors into making an attempt on this prison and trying to break you out. You see, Prisoner 4938...you are bait.”

“Yet...surprisingly, no one bit the bait. The same people that saved you from your burning home seemed to have ignored you altogether.”

Once again, the confused tone in the Warden’s voice made Alexander want to laugh. Of course no one showed up to bust him out of prison. The entity that saved him likely wasn’t in this world anymore!

To be fair, Alexander did hope that Agony would come into this world again and break him out of these walls. She certainly could. Yet none of his attempts were enough to get Agony to intervene, and at one point, Alexander simply gave up with that.

But what the Warden said later made his heart sink.

“Either way, you, prisoner 4938, are no longer useful. You no longer have any value. Sure, you likely still know the names of the traitors, but by now the traitors have likely fled already. Even if they haven’t...the control of Count Lamb over this world has never been stronger. He will be able to put down whatever incursion that arises. Essentially...your intel is no longer worth the risk of keeping you alive. While I would’ve suggested keeping you alive either way as a bargaining chip...I am sure Lord Lamb is smarter than I will ever be.”

“As such, I have been ordered by Count Lamb personally to...dispose of you.”

Warden Locke came to a stop in front of Alexander, and he was satisfied to see the look of shock and fear in Alexander’s eyes. Honestly, he had felt quite defeated with the young man, and it was nice to get back at him one last time.

Slowly, he reached into his holster and pulled out his sidearm and took aim at Alexander. A part of him was hoping that Alexander would break down and beg for mercy, offering the intel he carried in exchange for survival. Still, that turned out to be false hope, as after a brief moment of panic, Alexander simply stared at him with his eyes widened and his body strained.

“Very well…” The Warden whispered to himself before pressing his sidearm against Alexander’s forehead.

“Goodbye, my Lord…”