Damien stepped into a cavern similar to the one he'd just stepped out from: artificially hollowed out and smoothed all around. There were runes here, however, these were not as much as the previous one. And it didn't take Gray to point it out for Damien to figure out what those runes were for.

"These are runes meant to hold something," Keilan murmured, looking through the high ceiling.

"Yeah," Damien agreed. Unlike the runes in the previous cavern which were hard to discern because of their diversity, these ones all took the same role, which rang through the little ambient energy like a bell.

Concerning what was being held, Damien only had to look forward to getting his answers.

Standing in a row facing where he'd just appeared were a group of people. Damien counted close to twenty, arraigned in rows, five abreast, with arms spread sideways, facing the entrance from where he'd come through. Weird.

"Gray? Why are they like that?" He asked as he studied the faces. They all wore neutral expressions, with hollow eyes that spoke of something dreadful had Gray not immediately explained.

[Prisoners,] the grey colored being rubbed its chin, slowly drifting closer. [Held in stasis by concepts of Mind, Gravity, and Space.]

He pointed at the circles of runes in which each prisoner was standing in.

Damien frowned as his eyes went over the runes, getting nothing other than a mild migraine and a creeping wish to just lay down and sleep.

[Yeahhh, don't get too close,] Gray said and a gust of wind pushed Damien back.

"Can you figure out their identity?" Keilan spoke up, and there was a new shine to his eyes that made Damien frown.

[Already done,] Gray said. [So before we release them, a few warnings have to be set first.]

He looked at them both, getting their permission, before he continued.

[Both of you should never speak of what just happened back there.]

He gestured back at the tear in space they'd just stepped through.

[Keilan is injured as it is, he can't get into fight against Spirit lords, talk less of who'll come after him once they figure out what he has within his soul.]

Damien nodded, taking the warning to heart. Their experience on Ra had shown them what lengths the powerful could go for more power.

[You should not even speak of it outside, as nothing said into reality can ever be truly hidden.] Gray looked at them, for once, with a serious expression. [There are ways to peel secrets that don't require capturing the holders. If you want to talk about this, a mental message is okay, and even that is going to be risky at times. But I'll warn you when that time comes.]

A shiver ran down his spine and Damien nodded. [Second: The knowledge of your home world should stay hidden, same as the previous warning. Both are risks against different enemies.]

Another nod. [Good. Now that that's done, let's get to freeing these needful souls,] he said, and the essence of wind gathered on his tiny palm.

"Hold on!" Damien interrupted. "Warnings, I can accept. But Gray, you can't just free people without telling us first. What if they're hostile?"

Keilan nodded in agreement, but Damien got the notion he wasn't entirely present. He let it go for now.

[Didn't I tell you?] Gray said with a frown.

"Tell me what?"

The grey man gestured at the dull-eyed prisoners. [These are our way out.]

"You can't be serious," Damien scoffed. "Gray, they're prisoners. They can't get themselves out."

[You'll see,] Gray said, and before any of them could so much as blink, the wind blade flashed.

All over the room, on the rune circles holding each prisoner still, wind blades appeared, an echo of the one wielded by Gray. Simultaneously, they all slashed down on a single rune in each circle, tearing into the paved floor.

Damien froze, power at the tip of his fingers as he waited for something, some kind of light show or indication that something had just occurred. But nothing happened. The only indication whatsoever of the act committed by Gray was the immediate clarity in the eyes of the standing prisoners.

He watched with held breath as they blinked once, twice — their raised hands falling — and then focus shone in their eyes, which was immediately directed at Damien and his brother standing beside him.

"Well, this is something you don't see every day," a man at the front chuckled.

Looking at him, Damien would have taken him as no older than his early twenties, but he quickly discarded that idea, seeing as beings of higher realms — which he was, if the massive power Damien felt from him was any indication — usually had some say about their physical appearance.

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His hair was a curl of golden brown, tied back in a short ponytail. His black eyes, tinged with a bit of crimson, stared at Damien with open curiosity. His eyebrows, which were curved in an expression of confusion were a little bit more bushier than Damien's. And Damien could see the nascent appearance of a beard under his chin.

He was putting on a skin-tight suit of black with a jagged line of crimson lightning curving around both his arms and legs, with the symbol of a crimson lightning striking down on a black throne. They all were, though will varying symbols.

"Spirit lords," another man huffed. "How did they get in here?"

This one looked somewhat older, maybe three or four years older than Damien. His hair was black with a strand of crimson running down his brow. His dark eyes stared at Damien with suspicion, and Damien's heart skipped a beat when he met those dark, deathly eyes.

An Avatar.

"How did you get in here?" The man said, taking a threatening step forward.

Both Damien and Keilan went into battle mode immediately. The wind visibly rippled as Keilan's emotions bled into it, and the atmosphere cooled as Damien's powers rose just at the edge of his skin, ready to blast out at his command.

He knew there was no way he and Keilan were going to survive this— since there were fifty of them against his three. And judging from the power he could sense from them all, none were below Spirit lord— but he sure as wasn't going to lay down and simply die.

"Behave, Nalon," the first man spoke. "They have freed us, and to treat them as anything but grateful is ill-mannered. Besides, you don't want to go against your karmic debt, do you?"

Reluctantly, with a grimace, the avatar stepped backward, leaving Damien and Keilan with a nod of apology. Though he felt relieved, Damien didn't let his guard down.

The man who'd spoken—the first one— stepped forward, gracing them with a nod and a half. "My name is Vanis, of house Verille," he said with a look that spoke of recognition from Damien, like they should have recognized the name. "And I thank you for freeing us from captivity."

Damien blinked in confusion, looked at Keilan, and got a shrug, and then they both nodded back.

With a look of understanding, Vanis said. "You don't recognize the name, do you?"

With a grimace, Damien shook his head. "No."

"Which means you're not from Lese," he rubbed his chin. "You're not our captors, which makes your fortunate —atleast, for us— appearance intriguing. May I ask how you appeared here?"

Damien winced, remembering the warning Gray had given them a few minutes past. However, he decided to go for honesty, a curated one.

"I don't know," he answered. "We stepped through a portal and suddenly appeared here."

"Ahh, a disrupted portalling," Vanis nodded. "There are few ways something like that could happen, and since you happen to be in the same vicinity as us," he waved at the others who were already beginning to gather around. "I'd say something comes to mind."

He looked to his side, where the avatar, Nalon, was standing, and then snapped his fingers. "Get us out of here."

"As you will, my lord."

If the atmosphere had been a bit hostile when Damien and Keilan prepared to fight, now it was full-on wrathful.

A great pressure fell on them as a being stepped out of a tear in space, causing a violent crack to carved through the rune filled ceiling. Keilan grunted as he was forced down on his knees, and Damen stepped back, wary. Confusion immediately marred his face when he found himself unaffected by the pressure. He felt its presence at the back of his mind, but for some reason, it didn't affect him.

As quickly as it'd come, the pressure vanished, leaving a roiling atmosphere in its wake. Damien rushed toward Keilan, helping him up while his senses scanned the other man's body, fearful about his spiritual injury opening.

He drew Keilan back as he looked at the being that had just appeared, finding a unsurprising resemblance to Nalon. The man was ten feet tall with a dark devouring eyeball and a full-on crimson hair that danced on nonexistent winds. His body was sculpted completely from essence, Damien detected—the essence of destruction— which caused a brief bout of surprise. The body was covered in the same skin-tight suit his avatar had been wearing. Although that was immediately covered up in a flowing robe of black and crimson. His radiating might was such that it instantly washed away any notion of a fighting from Damien. This wasn't someone they could even attempt to contend with, talk less of beat.

"Surprising," Vanis looked at Damien with intrigue. "You withstood his aura. That's something you don't just see from anyone." He coughed as he saw the look on both Damien's and Keilan's faces. "However, I apologize for the abruptness of it all. I should have warned you."

"Let's not waste time," Nalon interrupted, already striding towards a wall, his avatar having disappeared when at one point. "They should be appearing at any moment."

Vanis nodded, gesturing at both Damien and Keilan. "We should go."

Though he was reluctant at first, his hesitation was quickly washed away when he thought of house easy it would take them to kill him. Which they could have done at anytime they wanted.

With a single punch, Nalon carved a large hole large enough for two people to cross through, pulverizing earth into sand and dust. Damien crossed over just behind Vanis, Keilan at his side.

They came out into a hallway made of smoothed-out walls, just like where they'd just appeared from.

Without waiting for the rest to step out, Nalon continued onward, Vanis following behind, with Damien and Keilan forming the third row.

"Where are we going?" Keilan asked.

Vanis looked behind. "Out, of course."

His answer caused a frown on Damien's face. "How? I thought there wasn't a way out of here."

The other man, Vanis, raised an eyebrow. "And what made you think that?"

Not willing to take the blame, Damien mentally dragged Gray from his head, bringing him to full view. "Him."

The tiny gray man huffed.

[Rude,] he said. [I was just getting to the good part in my book.]

Keilan looked over. "You read?" He said with confusion, confusion that was also mirrored on Damien's face.

[Of course, I read,] Gray said, and then turned to Damien. [What else do you think I spend my time doing in that empty void you call head?]

Damien had to force down a sharp retort when someone coughed, Vanis speaking up an instant later. "A minder... And a mouthy one, too. No leash?"

Damien grunted. "I wish." He didn't say more than that.

Understanding that nothing more was going to be said about Gray, Vanis moved on. "To your question. Yes, your minder was somewhat right. You cannot leave this place," he then gave a mischievous smile. "Unless you have a Spirit King with you."

Damien looked at the towering man striding at the front, his footsteps thudding heavily on the ground as he moved.

Deciding not to torment himself any longer by staring at the power incarnate leading them, Damien turned back to Vanis. "Do you know where we are?"

Vanis shrugged. "An outpost, probably. Somewhere far but not in the main territories of our captors; otherwise, we have had a chance at escaping."

"Why's that?"

"Because we'd be dead," The Verille lord smiled. "A prisoner of the Aveanii is forever a prisoner."

His next question was rolled over as Nalon voice came in then, "Prepare yourselves, we have company." And as soon as he'd spoken, the wind flowing through the passageway picked up, a gentle twist that didn't do more than ruffle their clothes. And when it finally died down, something stepped out.

"Bird man!" Gray shouted.