The jolt was brutal. It wasn't your typical air turbulence, but a violent mechanical slam as the landing gear of the military transport aircraft struck the wet concrete runway. The magitech jet engines, which had been roaring like banshees, slowly faded into a low hum, replaced by the sound of ferocious waves crashing against the facility's outer walls.
Devon exhaled a long breath. The air inside the cabin felt stifling, smelling of cold sweat and old metal.
"We have arrived, Princess," Eira's voice broke the tense silence in the cabin.
The Elf woman rose from her seat with casual grace. She stepped closer to Devon, the magnetic key in her hand blinking blue. With a swift motion, she pressed the key against the mana suppression cuffs on Devon's wrists.
Click. Hiss.
The heavy shackles released, falling to the metal floor with a loud clang. Devon massaged his reddened wrists. The sensation of blood flow returning felt like ants crawling beneath his skin.
"Finally," Devon muttered, craning his neck until it cracked. "The service on this flight is terrible. No peanuts, no blankets, and the handcuffs were way too tight. Zero stars."
Eira chuckled softly. She leaned in, bringing her beautiful face close to Devon's ear. "Enjoy your temporary freedom, Devon-kun. Because once you step out that door... you are no longer a guest. You are an asset."
On the other side of the cargo door, the sound of hydraulic mechanisms rumbled. The ramp slowly lowered, allowing the salty, cold sea wind to storm into the cabin, carrying with it droplets of rain that stung the skin.
Sharky, the shark-woman of the Selachian race who had been observing silently, stood at the threshold. She grinned, baring rows of serrated teeth.
"Heee..." she hissed, her voice wet and raspy. "Get out now, fresh meat! The Monolith doesn't like to wait!"
Devon stepped out, followed by Stormclaw behind him. The white-furred humanoid cat walked with an upright posture, though his twitching ears betrayed his alertness. His amber eyes swept the surroundings, assessing every threat.
The sight that greeted them was the very definition of military intimidation.
Alpha Zone was illuminated by giant floodlights cutting through the darkness of the stormy night. Rain fell sideways, whipped by strong winds. On the vast runway, dozens of elite soldiers in gleaming black armor stood in formation, aiming energy rifles straight at them. Behind the ranks stood several four-meter-tall mecha units—Magitech War Golems—with red sensor lights glowing, tracking Devon's every movement.
Devon inhaled deeply. "Haaa... It smells like... oppression."
"This reminds me of..." Devon muttered, his eyes narrowing at the advanced military technology. "...a low-budget sci-fi movie."
Stormclaw snorted behind him. "At least it's better than the sewers," he grumbled quietly. "Or maybe... just far worse."
Suddenly, a distinct roar cut through the sound of the waves. From the cliff side of the platform, seawater exploded upward.
BOOOM!
From the dark sea, a massive shadow leaped out of the water and landed with a thud that shook the entire Alpha Zone. The concrete runway cracked beneath its feet. Hot steam billowed from its wet body as the seawater evaporated instantly from its body heat.
Viorak the Cyber Abyss.
The Vice Warden stood tall, nearly four meters in height, looming over everyone like a tower of death. His massive shark-cyborg body glistened under the floodlights. His neon purple eyes flared brightly, scanning Devon and Stormclaw with predatory intensity.
"SALUTE!" shouted one of the soldier captains.
In unison, the entire troop on the runway stomped their feet and saluted with perfect military precision.
Viorak stepped forward, every stride heavy and full of menace. He stopped right in front of Devon, lowering his monstrous head until his face was only centimeters away from Devon's.
"Welcome to your grave," Viorak's voice echoed, deep and distorted. "Here, there is no hope. No gods. Only me... and discipline."
Viorak shifted his gaze to Stormclaw. "And you, Little Cat... I will enjoy breaking your spirit, bone by bone."
Without warning, Viorak let out a thunderous laugh, then turned and walked away toward the main tower, leaving a thick aura of terror in his wake.
"What a delightful welcome," Devon muttered sarcastically.
"Shut up and move!" snapped Sharky, shoving Devon's back roughly.
They were herded into a cold concrete bunker building—the Prisoner Processing Area.
Inside, the atmosphere was sterile and blindingly bright. The walls were pristine white, the floor slick with ceramic tiles. Two burly Hobgoblin officers in chemical protective gear awaited them.
"Stand on the 'X'," ordered the first Hobgoblin. "Standard procedure. Sterilization and bio-magical scanning."
Without warning, cold steam mixed with cleansing magic particles sprayed from all directions. Devon coughed lightly, his eyes stinging. Stormclaw merely closed his eyes, accepting the process with the stoicism of a warrior.
After the sterilization process, the Hobgoblin pointed to a metal scanner gate covered in glowing runes.
"Remove all outer attributes. Walk through the scanner gate. The machine will detect metal, magic, or foreign objects hidden inside your body," the Hobgoblin explained in a bored tone. "If the machine beeps red, we will cut you open to retrieve it."
Devon raised an eyebrow. "Sophisticated. Much better than a manual search by those rough green hands of yours."
Devon stepped through the gate. Blue beams scanned his entire body, penetrating skin and muscle, searching for anomalies.
BEEP. Green.
"Clean," said the officer. "Proceed to registration."
They were herded to the next station: Measurement and Registration.
Devon stood in front of a height chart.
"Straighten up!" barked the medical officer, a Cyclops woman in a white coat.
"Name?" the Cyclops asked, holding a data tablet.
Devon lifted his chin, putting on a serious and mysterious expression. His chuunibyou nature took over.
"Write this down," he said in a deep voice. "SOV-ALL / UNIT-∞ / AXIOM."
Silence. The Cyclops woman stared at Devon with her single large eye, unblinking. She slowly lowered her tablet.
"Haa?"
"That's my name," Devon said. "Short for Sovereign of All, Unit Infinity, Axiom of Reality. You may address me as Your Highness."
"What kind of name is that?" The officer scoffed. "Denied. Our system doesn't accept mathematical symbols or fake noble titles. This is a prison, not a comic convention. Keep it simple."
Devon let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping. "Fine, fine. People here have no taste in art."
"Name?"
"Devon."
"There, that's easy, isn't it," the officer muttered, typing quickly. "Devon. Race: Human (Variant). Classification: High-Level Prisoner."
After the bureaucratic process, they were finally given prisoner uniforms—dull orange jumpsuits with serial numbers printed on the chest. Devon's number was 7734, while Stormclaw received 7735.
They were taken to a corridor intersection.
"Block 20, that way," a guard said to Stormclaw.
"Wait," Devon interrupted. "We aren't in the same cell?"
"Of course not, Stupid," the guard replied. "This big cat goes to General Population, heavy labor sector. You... you have a special ticket to Block 12."
Stormclaw turned to Devon. There was concern in his amber eyes. "Be careful, Devon," he growled softly. "Don't die before I get to see you again."
"You too, Cat," Devon smiled faintly.
They were separated. Stormclaw was herded down the left hallway, while Devon was pushed down the right, where Eira was already waiting with a sweet smile that promised nothing good.
"Devon-kun!" Eira greeted cheerfully. "I've prepared a special room for you. Block 12. Cell 12-09."
They walked down a long corridor lined with heavy iron doors.
"Well, this is your room," Eira said, stopping in front of a solid steel door. Devon looked at the data plaque beside the door. Written in bold red letters: OCCUPANT: ASSET HEMO-WOLF X9 & PRISONER 7734.
"Yikes..." Devon grimaced. "I have a bad feeling about this. Hemo-Wolf? Sounds like a monster that will eat my face while I sleep."
Eira laughed lightly, unlocking the door. "Don't worry. Your roommate isn't dangerous. She's sweet, really."
Devon stepped inside hesitantly.
The cell was spacious enough, but cold and sterile. On the top bunk, a figure sat facing the wall. The figure turned slowly upon hearing Devon's footsteps.
It was Zerath.
At a glance, she looked like a very tall, athletic humanoid female. Her body was clad in a modified prisoner outfit, revealing pale white skin with black crack-like patterns. But her face... her face was covered by a hard white bone structure resembling a skull mask.
Zerath turned her head toward Devon. Her mouth, which looked like a sewn slit, suddenly opened wide, revealing a smile that was far too wide for normal proportions.
Devon took a step back. "Ouch, Eira... can I just move cells? Solitary confinement is fine. Or a dog kennel."
"Ehh, why?" Eira asked, feigning confusion. "She's tame. Look, she's smiling at you."
"That's not a smile!" Devon hissed. "That's a predator grinning at a dinner menu!"
"Just get in there," Eira shoved Devon fully inside. "Have fun!"
BLAM!
The steel door shut tight. Devon stood frozen, staring in horror at the creature on the top bunk. Zerath stared at Devon with an intensity that was hard to read.
"Hah..." Devon sighed deeply. "Okay, Devon. Calm down. You can handle this."
He forced an awkward smile toward Zerath. "Hello... my name is Devon. Nice to meet you?"
Zerath didn't answer. She simply tilted her head.
Devon swallowed hard. He walked slowly toward the bottom bunk. He sat on the edge of the bed, taking off the top of his prisoner jumpsuit due to the heat, revealing his athletic physique.
"Okay, Devon. Calm down. Just sleep," he thought.
Suddenly, a face appeared on the side of the bed, upside down. Zerath had lowered her head from the top bunk. Her bone-mask face was now only centimeters from Devon's.
They stared at each other.
"H-hello...?" Devon greeted awkwardly.
Zerath didn't answer. Instead, a wet krrkk sound was heard.
Zerath's face mask suddenly split. Horizontally and vertically, the white face bloomed like horrific fleshy petals, revealing internal anatomy that human eyes were never meant to see.
"SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHHHH!"
Zerath screamed. It wasn't a human sound, but static distortion that shattered eardrums.
Zerath lunged.
She fell from the top bunk, crashing onto Devon's body with a weight and force that crushed bones. Her claws dug into Devon's shoulders, pinning him to the mattress.
"Wait! Don't! N—"
Devon's vision went dark instantly as Zerath's inner jaws snapped shut.
CRUNCH.
The sound was wet, loud, and final.
Minutes later, silence returned to Block 12. inside the dark cell, Zerath sat quietly on the edge of the bed, while a pool of red liquid slowly widened on the concrete floor, flowing from the remains of what used to be her new roommate.
She slept soundly after that, as if nothing had happened.
And in the corridor, the light flickered once, then died.