They were being escorted out of the colosseum
That was the first thing Soren understood as the guards grabbed him and Noelle immediately after the magical sealing took effect. The arena was being cleared. Other prisoners were being moved away. The announcer had already dismissed them, his theatrical attention shifting toward whatever came next
The guards moved with military precision, their hands gripping Soren's and the woman's arms firmly but without unnecessary brutality. They weren't trying to hurt them. They were simply moving them where they needed to go
Soren's mind was attempting to process everything happening around him, to categorize it, to understand it
'Where are they taking us? What happens now?'
The questions spiralled through his consciousness as they moved through a long hallway. The corridor was carved from stone, lit by some kind of magical illumination that cast everything in a pale, clinical light. The walls were bare except for occasional markings that Soren's fractured mind couldn't decipher. They were moving deeper into the mountain. He was certain of that much. Deeper and further from the arena
His damaged face was still bleeding slightly. The regeneration had stopped working the moment the magic sealed. His hands were wrapped in restraints now, metal cuffs that prevented any escape. Noelle moved beside him without resistance, her expression unchanging, her lips still moving in silent prayer
One of the guards an older man with a wrinkled face and cold brown eyes, turned back to look at both of them as they walked
"You guys are lucky," the guard said, his voice carrying no particular inflection. Just stating fact. "Skipped being placed in the lower ranks and go straight to the middle ranks of all the fighters here. Be happy''
Middle ranks
The phrase meant nothing to Soren. But his was useful as this implies that there was a hierarchy. That much was obvious. High and low. Middle implied a system more complex than he had considered. It also implied that placement wasn't random. That survival in the arena had meaning beyond simple entertainment. It affected where you were placed in whatever structure governed the prison. But for what these ranks actually meant for now he had no clue everything here was too foreign of a concept to him
'We're valuable now. We killed the monster. So we go up in whatever ranking system exists?' Soren questioned
The logic was cold, practical. But it also created questions. What happened to the valuable fighters? What did the middle ranks entail? What was expected of them now?
The guards continued walking, and Soren followed, his mind still attempting to gather information from his surroundings even as his body moved mechanically forward
They approached a checkpoint
Two more guards stood before a massive gate. Reinforced. Protected. Clearly designed to withstand significant force. The checkpoint guards examined Soren and Noelle briefly, then nodded to the guards escorting them. The massive gate began to open slowly, grinding against itself with a sound like the earth shifting
And then the space opened up
It was vast. Impossibly vast. Soren's first impression was of an open cafeteria, but the scale was far larger than any cafeteria should be. The area stretched upward and outward, carved directly out of the mountain. The ceiling was high enough that Soren had to crane his neck to see it. Magical lights hung suspended in the air, casting everything in that same pale illumination
The prisoners
There were dozens of them visible at a glance. Maybe more. They were separated into groups, clustered around different areas. Some sat together in what looked like informal gangs, clearly organized hierarchies within hierarchies. Others stood alone or in small clusters of two or three. They wore a mix of tattered prison clothing and remnants of more formal wear
And then there was what seemed to look like a workshop or a blacksmithing area it was hard to tell at first glance
In one section of the massive cafeteria, there was a clearly separated space. It had its own smaller gate and protection. Inside, Soren could see figures working, crafting something, repairing something. The workshop. The seemed to be a specialized area for the craftspeople or engineers or whoever maintained the prison's equipment
Three other protected gates were visible from where Soren stood. Equivalent to the one they had just entered. Exit points. Entrances. Ways in and out of this massive central space
The guards moved them forward, walking through the cafeteria
'Every eye is on us'
It wasn't paranoia. Soren could feel the attention of the prisoners shifting toward him and Noelle. The reactions were immediate and varied. Some prisoners looked away quickly, as if looking at them was dangerous. Others stared with undisguised hostility
But most looked at Soren with something closer to revulsion
His face. His destroyed, scarred, deliberately mangled face. The features twisted beyond the point of normal humanity. He was a walking reminder of something broken, something wrong, something that had survived things that shouldn't be survivable
'They're afraid of me'
The realization carried no triumphant weight. It was simply observation. His appearance inspired fear and disgust in equal measure. That was useful information. That was something he could use, to his dismay
The guards led them toward another protected gate. One of the three remaining entrances to the massive cafeteria space. The gate opened slowly, revealing a different world entirely
Floors upon floors of prison cells
They rose upward in an almost dizzying vertical arrangement, connected by staircases and walkways. The cells were small, individual, separated from one another by bars and stone. Each one was like a cage within a larger cage. The architecture was brutally efficient. Maximum density, minimum wasted space
Soren and the woman were being led to the ground floor
The furthest cell to the left. The corner position. The guards stopped before the cell, unlocked the restraints binding them, and shoved both of them inside with casual violence
Be ready for tomorrow morning, newcomers, the guard said, his voice carrying an edge that suggested he had said this many times before, ''Be ready for tomorrow newcomers.'' He said with a little giggle then added, ''Well you two should be fine anyway after all out of everyone here you are quite strong.'' Then he left and the gate slammed shut behind them
The sound was final. Absolute. A door closing on possibility
Soren could hear the guards' footsteps retreating, could hear the massive reinforced gate at the far end of the cell block closing with the same finality. The sound of metal grinding against metal. The sound of locks engaging and then silence
Soren sat on the edge of one of the cots and looked around the cell properly for the first time
The room wasn't what he had expected
From the television shows and movies he had watched on Earth, the ones that depicted prisons as nightmarish hellholes of degradation and suffering, he had anticipated something worse. Much worse. Dark cells. No light. Filth and degradation. The kind of places where hope went to die
This was not that
The cell was small, yes, but it wasn't claustrophobic. There were two beds, one on each end of the room, separated by enough space that you could stand between them without immediately touching the opposite cot. The walls were stone, bare except for some scratches and marks left by previous occupants. A single light bulb hung in the centre of the ceiling, casting pale illumination across the entire space
There was a desk
An actual wooden desk, simple and functional, positioned against one wall. A single chair sat before it. The desk was scarred and worn, clearly used by countless prisoners before him, but it was furniture. Real furniture. Not just bolted-down features of the environment
This is much better than what I was expecting
The thought surprised him even as it formed. The room was lacklustre, undeniably. It was a prison cell. It wasn't comfortable or welcoming. But compared to the stories, compared to the images that had been burned into his mind from entertainment on Earth, it was relatively humane
Soren's mind spiralled through the implications
'They're treating us better than I thought, there is even a mirror in the room as well!'
He lay back on one of the cots, staring at the ceiling
The light bulb cast no shadows. Just even, pale illumination. The stone above it was smooth, carved with precision. The woman continued her prayers from the other cot, her voice low and rhythmic
''And may your divine light illuminate the darkness of this place''
Soren didn't respond. His mind was still cataloguing the cell. The dimensions. The positioning. The fact that both cots had actual blankets and pillows, worn but present. The waste bucket in the corner was crude but functional. There was even a small alcove that seemed designed for personal storage
Soren's mind raced with thoughts, he had no idea where he actually was. He knew that he was currently in some sort of roman style gladiator colosseum but he needed to actually know his geographical location to really gain a full understanding over things. He had gone through so much in such a short time, but he decided to not think back about what happened, maybe out of trauma or maybe because his mind was occupied elsewhere
He wanted to be more in control or more prepared for his current situation so his mind constantly kept switching from the area he just walked through, what the guards said kept ringing in Soren's mind
'Middle Ranks'
'Be ready for tomorrow'
Soren remaining functional eye slightly focused, 'This is all to vague, I can think all I want but at the end of the day I would still just be speculating about my surroundings'
'I need to gain some info, but I'm just stuck with this crazy woman who keeps praying all the time. She even threw a mad hissy fit and then killed that bald guy for disrespecting her God.' But Soren then thought back
'But she did save my life though so she can't be completely crazy, maybe I should ask her about this place. Hopefully this crazy weirdo doesn't switch up on me like she did to that bald guy she then killed'
However ironically if one were to take a glance at them Soren here would definitely be the crazy weirdo in this situation. What was one person praying in comparison to the other tearing off their own face and remaining somewhat sane
If anything they were both crazy!