I flapped my wings toward Stillwater Hold.
'I need to confirm the timeline fast.'
'Like, really fast. Can't afford messing up my plans.'
The grim fortress materialized out of the salt fog ahead. Stillwater was a brutalist spike of dark stone and rusted iron jutting straight out of the sea.
'I suspect I was wrong. I mean, I was just guessing by using Nasiana's reports about invading our territory, so the chances of me being wrong were always high.'
Navigating the ocean wind, I narrowed my eyes and zeroed in on a blind spot. I tilted my wings and angled my descent towards a rocky post on the outer walls where guards rotated their shifts.
'Usually… a bit arrogant, I guess. That can blind me sometimes.'
I landed heavily on the damp rocks, the sound muffled by the crashing waves. A lone Enforcer guard stood near the secure side entrance, exhaling a plume of smoke into the chilly air.
'How do I check the timeline? one may ask. Well, the simplest way I thought of was: check out Vi's prison record. By doing that, I have access to how long she was jailed, and by doing that, I can determine how much time has passed.'
'I remember that in the show she was jailed for seven years. I'll use that as reference.'
Moving fast, I [Flash] forward, and knocked him out cold before he could even register what happened. Penguins of Madagascar style.
After turning into human and dragging his limp body into the crevices of the rocks, I stripped off his uniform and slid into it.
My eyes closed, letting the flesh of my face shift and remold, mimicking the shape of his jawline, nose, and brow until I was a perfect mirror image.
...I stepped inside.
Walked past the lower barracks, keeping my head down, navigating the clockwork hallways until I reached the room I wanted.
Flip.
Behind a heavy oak desk sat a bored-looking desk Enforcer, lazily flipping through a ledger. He didn't even look up when the door clicked shut.
"You're off your route, soldier," the desk guard muttered, his voice dripping with bureaucratic exhaustion.
I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to match the gruff, steady tone of the uniform I wore.
"New transfer orders coming through the pipeline. High command wants a routine audit on some of the long-term high-risk assets from the Sump blocks."
The guard paused, staring at me.
'Nailed it.'
His eyes swept over my stolen uniform and the face I'd mirrored. For a second, my chest tightened, waiting for the alarm to blow.
Instead, he just sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"An audit? Today? On Progress Day? High command really knows how to ruin a shift. Who are they looking for?"
"Inmate 516," I said smoothly, projecting an air of unbothered authority.
The guard snorted, shaking his head as he stood up to slide open a massive copper filing cabinet behind him.
"Ah, the Trencher. Good luck auditing that one. She's broken three of our cell doors and twice as many jaws since she arrived."
He flipped through a dense stack of heavily stamped folders, pulled a thick one out, and laid it flat on the desk.
"Transferring her out, I hope?" he asked, looking up at me.
"Just verifying behavioral history," I replied, keeping my eyes fixed on the open page as he flipped it open.
"Remind me... how long has it been since the Sheriff brought her in? I want to make sure it matches the last."
The guard chuckled darkly, running a finger down the log sheet.
"Brought her in right after the warehouse explosion in the undercity. Let's see... she's going on her six year in this hole. Six years of absolute headaches for the warden."
'Six years...'
'That means this is just one year before. So I was wrong. Only one left before everything goes up in flames.'
"Perfect. That matches our sheets," I said, tapping the folder and offering him a tight, professional nod. "Appreciate the quick work."
"Yeah, yeah. Just make sure high command knows we're doing our jobs down here," he grumbled, slamming the cabinet shut.
Before I could turn to make my exit, the heavy iron gears of the central block ground open, and a sharp whistle blew through the corridors.
Mealtime.
"Move it, soldier," the desk guard said, pointing toward the door. "No one stays in the records during block rotation. Hit the catwalks and help watch the cages."
"..."
...I followed a detachment of armored Enforcers moving toward the high iron catwalks overlooking the lower courtyard.
'I mean. I'm here, why not take a peak?'
Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the other guards, I leaned against the rusted railing, trying to look perfectly routine while I observed the inmates below.
My eyes locked onto a familiar shock of pink hair.
She was down there during the mealtime, looking all threatening and dangerous with her tattoos, moving like a predator among the crowds of prisoners.
My heightened senses picked up her smell immediately, bypassing all the stench of sweat and iron around us. It was an intoxicating, sweet, pheromone-like pull.
'Is she on her period?'
I sniffed more.
It didn't smell bad. Especially here. It was more like warm skin, fresh sweat, and a soft, residual perfume.
'Pleasant.' I used it as a sensory beacon to drown out the other unpleasant fragrances in the room.
'Besides my personal fondness for her, Violet wasn't very useful in the show, actually. She just made bad decision after bad decision.' I contemplated my plans for her.
'I guess she has some uses for managing Jinx's craziness later on. Character development and whatnot.'
Sizzle-Sizzle.
I looked up; the other guards did too. The lights above me were flickering.
'My mana is acting up again.'
My eyes slid down to Vi again.
Her lips looked soft against the metal spoon as she hungrily shoved it deep inside her throat.
I lick my lips.
'I'll pay her a visit later tonight.'
.