This was it.
The moment the simulation began, Kiana's heart had soared. She expected something grand—maybe a quest to slay a dragon, rescue a long-lost princess, uncover a shadowy cult embedded within a noble family, or maybe even unravel a murder mystery aboard a snowbound train.
She did not expect this.
Her eyes blinked open to the gray, flickering ceiling of what was unmistakably a jail cell. The dim torchlight crackled on the stone walls. She could feel straw poking her back. The smell of damp and iron hit her nose like betrayal.
"…eh?" she croaked.
Kiana tried to sit up.
She couldn't.
She looked down—and screamed.
"EH?!?!"
Her arms were bound with thick rope, her legs tied at the ankles, a crude cloth acting as a belt to keep her from wriggling out. She lay there frozen for a moment, eyes wide as dinner plates, mouth hanging open in disbelief. The gears in her brain ground together with all the grace of a rusty cart wheel.
Then, finally—
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
Her body exploded into motion, rolling violently on the floor like a sausage mid-fry. "WHAT IS THIS?! WHERE AM I?! IS THIS A TORTURE SIMULATOR?! I KNEW IT! I KNEW I WAS GONNA DIE LIKE YUZU SAID! OH GOD—THE EXECUTION THING WAS REAL?! NOOOOOOO! I STILL HAVEN'T MADE YUZU MY WIFE YET!!"
Her rolling came to a stop as she slammed sideways into the iron bars, knocking the breath out of her lungs in a wheeze. That was when a shadow approached.
"Huh," said a man—a young guard, dressed in patched leather and simple mail, blinking down at the chaotic mess that was her. "Hey… you remember taking this one?"
Another guard walked over, chewing a piece of bread. "What? Her? No, we only grabbed ten. We don't need any extras."
Kiana, who had been preparing a grand monologue accusing them of kidnapping the heir of the Kaslana bloodline, froze. "…eh?"
The first guard shrugged. "Alright then. Let's untie her."
As soon as the rope loosened, Kiana exploded into action.
"JUSTICEEEEEEEE!!!" she shrieked, headbutting the poor guard square in the nose with a resounding thunk. The man went down with a yelp. "I WON'T FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS, FILTHY SCUM! I'M TAKING THESE PRISONERS AND—AND—"
She froze mid-sprint.
Because just outside her cell, across the hallway, she saw them.
The prisoners.
Ten of them. Sitting calmly on bundles of hay. Sipping soup from wooden bowls. One was playing cards with a guard. Another was chatting with a woman who seemed to be braiding her hair. The atmosphere was more "chilly day in an inn by the riverside" than "dark dungeon of being kidnapped and about to be sold."
"…eh?" Kiana said again, for the third time that day. She dropped into a slow squat, blinking at the domesticity of the scene.
"What the hell kind of simulation is this?"
The guard Kiana had so valiantly headbutted earlier staggered back into view, holding his nose with a groan, his expression somewhere between tired and offended.
"What the hell was that for?!" he complained, voice muffled behind his bloodied fingers.
Kiana immediately leapt into action again, not with violence this time—but with volume. She sprang up and threw herself between the guards and the prisoners, arms spread wide like a protective wall of righteousness, despite her legs still wobbling from earlier.
"D-Don't come any closer!" she shouted, stammering only slightly. "W-Whatever is going on here… I'll stop it!"
There was a pause.
The injured guard just blinked at her. Then exhaled, long and weary.
"…Please don't," he muttered.
Kiana blinked. "Huh?"
"Look, it's not like we're hurting anyone," he sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We just needed the coin. Nothing personal. The buyer only asked for ten warm bodies and guaranteed they wouldn't be harmed."
Kiana's glare faltered. Her eyes narrowed, lips twisting in doubt.
"That's still kidnapping! You can't just—just take people! If you need money then—then just get a normal job!"
At that, a low chuckle came from behind her.
It wasn't mocking.
Just… tired.
"Yeah. That'd be nice," said one of the older kidnappers leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He wasn't dressed much better than the guards—his boots were cracked, his shirt patched in places where thread barely held. "But you ever try getting hired when the city's too clean?"
Kiana turned toward him, confused. "Huh?"
"Too well-kept," he clarified, shrugging with a bitter smile. "Everyone's accounted for. Everyone's got their place. And people like us—farmhands, debtors, old mercs—we've… just got no place anymore."
Another man nodded. "They don't need us. The guards are trained from birth. Markets are full. Even street sweeping's done by those little automaton things now."
One of the prisoners—still tied up—raised a spoon in agreement. "Food's good though."
Kiana stood frozen, her brain buffering again.
"…Eh?"
She glanced between the guards, the kidnappers, and the so-called prisoners who didn't look even remotely panicked. Some were sipping soup. One waved at her cheerfully.
"…What is this simulation?" Kiana said it quietly, almost to herself.
No one answered.
Her brows furrowed as she slowly lowered her arms. The prisoners and kidnappers continued chatting like old neighbors. Someone passed bread across the cell bars. Someone else made a joke and was met with soft laughter. It was bizarre. Backwards. Wrong. Or was it?
Kiana remained frozen, the wheels in her head spinning in a thousand directions. Her fists clenched, her stance uneasy as she muttered—
"…What am I even supposed to do now?"
Was this right? Wrong? Were these guys villains, or victims toor? She stared, eyes darting between the so-called kidnappers and their so-called victims, who were sharing stew and casual conversation.
Her thoughts didn't get far.
DING—DING—DING!
The sound of a bell echoed through the chamber, shrill and sharp.
All at once, the mood snapped like a twig.
"Damn it," one of the kidnappers hissed, standing up fast. "I knew they'd come eventually—but not this fast!"
He bolted toward the stairs. The others weren't far behind, hastily snatching up weapons and scattering into side halls with the speed of people who'd rehearsed this scenario too many times.
"Wait, what's going on?!" Kiana called after them, eyes wide.
A woman tied up in the nearest cell turned to her, worry creasing her brow. "The city guards. They must've found us."
Then she gave a faint, almost apologetic smile. "I just hope they don't hurt those kind men too much."
Kiana stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "Kind—?? They kidnapped you!"
The woman nodded. "Yes. And also fed us. And kept us warm. It's… complicated, isn't it?"
Kiana turned toward the stairs as the shouting began—loud and clear, angry voices reverberating down the stone walls like thunder. She clenched her teeth.
"Nghhh… damn it!"
She grit her eyes shut, smacked her own cheeks twice, then took off toward the noise.
"MY JUSTICEEEEE!!"
===========================
Heya Everyone, HundredMasks-chan here~ sorry for the late updates, Dear Author is indeed trying, but due to my constant pestering, I gave him ideas for other fanfics, slowing the development of Blackened flames, so do forgive this silly goose~
Anyways, Dear Author is Cooking up an Arknights Fanfic! Three Protagonist Setup as Always, So do Look forward to it! Most of these are passion works done by an author I basically dragged into these Fandoms after all, Tee Hee~!
HundredMasks-chan Out!