[In a deep underground bunker, somewhere in the new Empire, Ryonen's POV]
The dark, damp place had once again started to make sounds. The darkness was so rich, and the sound of dripping water droplets so constant, that Ryonen sometimes entirely forgot where he really was. Only when some disruption came to his screaming silence did he realise he was also once a human and darkness and silence were not his natural state of living.
He was imprisoned in a small, dirt cell with iron bars. For a pathfinder, even a first ranker, it wouldn't have been enough at all, but Ryonen was fortunate enough to have the mana in him. He knew he wasn't alone here. There were hundreds of people confined to the endless, dark cells, placed at regular intervals in the twisting, dark tunnels. But it always remained eerily silent.
Their throats were sore from screaming for help, and with time, they had learned to save their strength. Food was neither enough nor regular.
