The corridor widened as the flow of inmates moved forward, opening into a long transit hall lined with markers embedded in the floor. The crowd adjusted without being told, splitting into lanes, spacing themselves just enough to avoid collisions. Some walked with purpose. Others drifted, eyes scanning faces, taking stock.
Rin noticed it immediately. "There's a structure," he said quietly. "Nobody's rushing. Nobody's lost."
"They already know where they sit," Xavier replied. "New people don't."
Rin leaned closer. "There's a hierarchy."
"Always is," Xavier said. "Especially when guards don't babysit."
That was when the looks started.
Assessment. Heads turned as Xavier and Rin passed, eyes lingering longer than polite, tracking posture, movement, weight distribution. A few inmates slowed just enough to force proximity. One of them stepped into Rin's path deliberately.
"Fresh," the man said, glancing between them. "You two are new."
Rin stopped, but Xavier didn't.
