The weak flickering firelight by the door cast the entire room in a shifting ochre hue. The profile of the man leaning against the wall with his head hanging down reminded one of the last second of sunset over a mountain peak. His straight, sharp eyelashes gently fluttered. The instant he opened his eyes, it was as if a storm was unleashed in the room.
His consciousness returned, he continued to lift his gaze, then let out a slight inhale. He turned his head, looking at his right clavicle.
He coughed lightly twice, leaned his head back, pressing it firmly against the wall. He reached out to fiddle with the chain on the clavicle ring, a sharp pain radiating from his right shoulder, with every branch of nerve screaming, yet he simply blinked.
After a moment, as if remembering something, he suddenly laughed. He turned his head, looked at the bed on the other side, then turned his face to the firelight again, then followed the chain upward, using his fingers to trace the rough outline of the clavicle ring.
There's no doubt this is a torture device, not some punk culture accessory to flaunt individuality. A metal ring about two fingers wide was sealed completely, tightly pressing against the clavicle bone without any gap. It's impossible to pry it open in any way. The chain and pin buckle are cast as a single piece, with no gap, and equally impossible to open.
Exploring the edge where the clavicle ring met the skin, his fingers didn't stop but continued inward, applying force toward the upper junction, causing his body to shudder violently. His fingertips pressed into the wound.
Inward, downward, until he reached behind the clavicle ring, then explored the other side, he discovered the metal buckle embedded in the bone. Since the clavicle shape gradually elevates from inside out, the buckle on the edge near the shoulder grinds the clavicle into a groove where it is thinnest.
The moment he withdrew his fingers, his body trembled again. Wiping the blood on the hem of his shirt, he clenched his fist, pressed his index finger along the lower edge of the clavicle, while his thumb reached into the wound, exploring the groove on the worn external side of the clavicle ring.
The index finger pushed forward, pressing against the outer side of the clavicle. The thumbnail clamped into the groove, exerting upward force.
"Ah!!!!!!! Hmm…"
Sweat slid down his forehead, soon soaking his whole body. As the gap widened, he changed his posture, inserting fingers from the lower wound, with his right arm muscling the shoulder locked; his left hand exerting upward and downward force simultaneously, sharply prying upward along the groove.
Crack!
The bone split, but not horizontally; it fractured inwardly from the groove, which is common in most fractures. He had to reach back in, grasp the buckle side of the clavicle, pulling outward bit by bit, enlarging the slant fracture and then prying downward.
"Ah!!!!!!"
Crack.
The two segments of the clavicle finally fully misplaced. Blood and bone fragments flowed from the expanded wound. He pushed the buckle, finding it unmovable, forcing the clavicle segments completely aside. Using a fingernail to clamp the buckle base, he forcefully pushed it to one shoulder side.
Clang! Clatter!
The buckle finally detached, accompanied by the chain, hitting the wall. He sat gasping on the spot, rubbing the relocated clavicle with trembling hands after a while, even managing to barely raise his right arm.
Then he pushed himself up with the intact side hand, checking the bedboard, peering beneath the bed. Spotting the bed frame's lever, his gaze landed on the bed foot. He squatted for a detailed examination, discovered a key and gap, kicking the bed foot fiercely.
Bam! Bam… Bam!
Click!
Splash—!!!
Murky water gushed out. Soon, the opposite room emitted faint panting sounds, followed by loud cursing.
"What the hell is going on! Why am I in water?! Anatoli! Anatoli! Where are you?"
"I'm next door to you." Anatoli's Adam's apple moved, he wiped his forehead sweat with the hem, then came over to squat checking the wall. His index finger swiftly touched the loose brick, rose up, kicked it fiercely twice. With a bang, the brick flew off.
"Ouch!" Lucifer screamed, "What are you doing!"
"Move aside." Anatoli said.
"I can't move away!" Lucifer tugged the chain hard, "I'm tied up. There's a lock here, do you have a key…"
Clang! Anatoli tossed the key through the gap.
Lucifer hurriedly unlocked the chain. Anatoli peered through the gap, then caught sight of the crowbar beside Lucifer's hand.
"Give me that thing." Anatoli pointed at the crowbar.
Lucifer seemed to realize the crowbar, surprisingly picked it up, eyed it, then said, "So I should have used this thing to save myself earlier? But I didn't notice at all…"
"Give it to me first." Anatoli emphasized.
Lucifer passed the crowbar through the gap. Anatoli hooked the crowbar's bend onto the wall brick, exerting force, prying off a piece of wall brick. Then followed the second piece, the third piece...
"Wait," Lucifer shouted, "Are you going to dismantle the whole wall?"
"I checked, this isn't a load-bearing wall." Anatoli said, "Get away from it, don't get hit."
Lucifer opened his mouth, clearly wanting to say more, yet hearing another bang, a brick flew over. He nimbly ran to the opposite corner of the room.
Anatoli pried the bricks not using brute force to smash, but with technique. Requires the crowbar to lodge in the right position, leveraging to bring down the bricks. It seems more troublesome than direct smashing, but actually, it efficiently works. Even in those not eroded wall brick gaps, as long as the crowbar can fit, they could be pried down.
It was apparent that Anatoli was very skilled at using the crowbar, even to the point where one could say he had mastered it. Lucifer couldn't help but ask, "How did you get to be so good at this?"
"Because I can't just wave my hand and conjure a house out of thin air," Anatoli said while working, "Building a house requires bricks, and new bricks are expensive, so when you move, you have to dismantle the old house completely to take it along, including walls and stairs."
"Oh," Lucifer could only say, "Hmm, I didn't expect you to do this. I've never seen you do such work."
"Ha." Anatoli chuckled and said, "How do you think I managed to escape from the dungeon beneath Lava Mountain? By chanting magic?"
Lucifer wasn't familiar with this place name, but when a dungeon was mentioned, he recalled that when he had sent people to hunt Anatoli and the Soviet soldiers' squad in Hell, it seemed like Azazel's Flame Demon unit had cornered them into a dungeon. Yet, they managed to escape later.
When he heard the news back then, he only cursed Azazel for being useless. At that time, Azazel had already failed many times, so Lucifer didn't bother to think about how they escaped.
"So you dug your way out?" Lucifer asked.
"That's right." The bricks pried loose by Anatoli were scattered all over the ground, and the hole had already expanded to be half the size of a person.
"But it's very hot there, with magma," Lucifer thought for a moment before saying, "Didn't you dig into any magma?"
"Almost. There was indeed a time when magma flowed into the tunnel, but we quickly blocked it. After that, we learned to predict where magma was present and avoided digging in that direction."
"Amazing," Lucifer marveled, "That's an ancient leftover dungeon, and I dare say Azazel has never been inside it. If he went in, he might very well get lost."
Bang! Another brick came off. Anatoli stepped back a little, assessed the size of the hole, and ducked his head to crawl through. The hole was just wide enough for one person.
Upon crawling through and seeing Lucifer, Anatoli froze.
"Why do you have wings???"
Lucifer flapped his wings: "Why wouldn't I have wings? I'm an Angel."
"I know, but isn't this dungeon supposed to limit abilities..."
"It is. I can't use superpowers anymore," Lucifer said, "But wings are my organs, just like your heart and lungs; they were created with me. You certainly wouldn't leave your heart out of the game, would you?"
"I thought everyone would be restricted to human form."
"Then how would those animal-shaped superheroes come in?"
Anatoli had no reply.
Lucifer explained, "The dungeon that restricts abilities doesn't force everyone into a human shape. Otherwise, beings of other races wouldn't be able to play. It makes them revert to their most original form. Those whose original form was a cat come in as a cat, those whose original form was a dog come in as a dog, those whose original form was an angel come in as an angel. Of course, Bruce is an exception; his wings weren't originally his."
"But you can't fly."
"Yes, because I never originally flew with wings," Lucifer said, "God didn't create angels with wings for the purpose of flight. They're merely decorative, and we fly using superpowers. Without superpowers, we can't fly."
"Why didn't it turn you back into the first light?"
"The dungeon that restricts abilities doesn't allow mysterious entities," Lucifer said, "If a mysterious entity wishes to participate, they must sign an agreement, joining in the game closest to their original form's real image. And this is my real image."
Anatoli sighed lightly and waved his hand at him, saying, "Stand aside. Let me see if there are any clues."
Lucifer nodded. Just as he was about to step back, he slightly wrinkled his nose: "I smell blood. Are you hurt?"
"I was just tied to the wall," Anatoli said briefly. He soon saw the water outlet on the ceiling, reached out his crowbar, and realized it was hard to reach the innermost part of the outlet, so he walked over to pick up a brick.
He waved his hand at Lucifer again, signaling him to step back, and threw the brick upwards forcefully.
Bang!
Clatter!
The brick and the key fell to the ground together. Anatoli stepped forward to pick up the key, while Lucifer kept staring at his relatively inactive right arm.
"Is your arm injured?" Lucifer asked, "How did it get hurt?"
"It's fractured," Anatoli said. He walked to the door with the key and tried it, and sure enough, it opened the door, then stood by the door contemplating briefly before realizing, "So the normal procedure wouldn't require breaking the clavicle?"
"What?" Lucifer didn't quite understand what he was saying.
By this time, Anatoli had already walked out the door, only to find a closed corridor outside, with another large door to open. So he returned to the room where he had been.
Lucifer also walked in, instinctively beginning to observe the room's contents. Then, upon seeing the bloodstained clavicle ring, his wing feathers stood on end.