"Let's begin," Soren said, striding purposefully through the crowd, but as they parted to let him through, there was a brief hesitation.

The raven-haired woman fell into step behind him first. The opposition lingered a moment longer, however, with no alternatives, they were forced to trail.

"From the stories, you don't strike me like the teamwork type. Why not just kill us all?" the raven-haired woman asked as she fashioned a makeshift belt from her hair.

"Even without factoring in the magic, you could probably take us all out one by one while you were unlocking our cells," she continued. "My guess is that there's a limit to how many essences you can absorb."

Soren looked at her. A slight smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"I mean, just think about it. There are thirty-two—no, thirty-one—people here. How many gems do you need to break through these steel walls with your bare hands? Probably not that many," she speculated as Soren fiddled with his gun, observing her for any sign of abrupt movement.

"The limit is species specific," he replied, noting her poorly concealed delight.

"That explains a lot," she said, her voice lowering. "I was wondering why there were fewer prisoners than cells. They might've been empty, to begin with, but it was definitely suspicious," she said.

Soren offered no reaction to her attempt at humor. Faintly, she shifted away from him. Her cheek twitched, her hand rising to scratch it.

"My name's Leia, by the way," she introduced herself.

"Soren."

"Is that actually your real name?"

"It's the name I gave myself," he replied, masterfully enriching the conversation.

"Do you have a plan to get out of here?" she inquired, having calmed down enough to do so.

"I do."

"How about you share your thoughts with me?" As soon as she uttered the words, her hands rushed to cover her mouth. Soren's attention, however, was fixated on the stainless steel door blocking their path. A small screen flickered intermittently on the side. It was a plain construction. Those tended to be the most secure.

"Be patient and watch carefully. You, you, you, you, and you," he pointed at five people. Those who had reacted negatively to his suggestions. Rallying more of them would be a mistake. Five was a good number. Nobody was going to antagonize him for a handful of souls. "You're up first."

Upon hearing this, the group's expressions darkened.

"Why don't you go first?" asked one of them. His question was answered by the barrel of a gun.

"If you don't hear a question mark, it's an order," Soren said, gesturing to the reflective door.

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In the tense silence that followed, those selected exchanged wary glances. Their expressions shifted between reluctance and fury towards their retreating allies. As expected, they were being sacrificed for the greater good— what a noble cause.

"Move!" Soren urged impatiently.

One of them mustered up the courage to take the first step, prompting the rest to follow suit. They shuffled past Soren, and right when the last person was about to pass him... they attacked.

A gunshot reverberated. The bullet embedded itself deep inside the leader's skull. Soren's fists burst into flames as he hurled the gun into the air. Ducking an unskilled punch, he countered with an uppercut that thawed through the man's jaw.

At the same time, he blocked a sidekick with his elbow. His hand extended to that person's neck. The third assailant was caught off guard as the man's thrashing body crashed into him. Powerless to stop Soren's fingers from searing through his ribcage, his heart was gripped and crushed. His limp form crumpled between the remaining two prisoners, whose knees buckled against the cold stone.

Heartfelt regrets—particularly from the blond man—escaped through chattering teeth, mixing with the choked groans of the dying.

The gun clattered to the ground. Twenty-nine remained.

'Mana : 2.8/5.1'

Fewer than three fireballs, the circumstances weren't ideal—they never were after contact with the enemy. At least, he had established the significance of the {Belligerent} boost. Its absence had been noticeable during the skirmish, but it proved far from debilitating.

They're slow, he mused as he reviewed the fight in his mind. It made sense, considering his agility had more than doubled.

Skulls split open. People flinched back as Soren extracted the essence crystals.

"You," he indicated towards Leia. "Absorb them." He watched intently, imprinting the now familiar sight of a spasming human into his memory.

"Tell me the attributes," he requested as soon as she recovered.

"I gained 0.2 Intelligence, 0.1 Willpower"

A horrible spread. Soren didn't react outwardly, merely nodding in acknowledgement of her statement. He gestured for the remaining three members of the opposition and the survivors to gather near the gate. They followed obediently.

Soren pressed the card against the monitor, and the stainless steel doors split open, revealing an escalator equipped with an identical screen. Those chosen walked inside, their reflections in the mirror growing larger with each step. Soren swiped the keycard on the panel and dialed a few buttons.

The elevator doors slammed shut. Cold sweat dripped down the prisoners' sides. The ascent felt like an eternity. Finally, a simple phrase appeared on the panel: Main Floor. The gate slid open.

Underground, Soren pressed his hands against the door. Closing his eyes, he focused on the Mana, channeling it to his hands. A steady stream nursed the fire, intensifying it from a deep red to a dazzling white, and the metal softened. Glowing orange drops trickled down the stainless-steel doors, forming an opening. When the hole was large enough for him to fit in, he jumped through and onto the elevator wire rope.

The onlookers gawked, awestruck by the sight of him burning through the metal. Enchanting flames danced a mesmerizing arrangement on his fingertips, boiling steel yet leaving him unharmed.

"Come," Soren's voice beckoned as he disappeared up the thick cables.

Doubt flared among the group. A moment's pause. What choice did they have? To be forever bound by these soulless walls?

A leap of faith. Through the gap. Some lost their hold, plummeting to their demise. Most clung desperately to the prickly steel as they hauled their emaciated bodies upward, their hands bleeding from the barbed cable. Yet they did not cease pulling. As the sounds of gunfire became evident, their bodies were overcome not by terror but by the fervent realization that freedom lay but a few steps away.