[Present]
Robin dreamed of color. But woke to white.
Everything in the prison was sterile. Blank walls. Buzzing lights. The smell of bleach and steel. A silence so thick it scraped the skin. No Mana. No magic. Nothing.
Robin's dreams twisted into nightmares, blurred with memories. Hendrick's laugh, Amelia's cooking, the sun-drenched road to Munich. All fraying at the edges. Their sleep brought no rest. Their body brought no strength. Every breath felt thin. The air was almost asphyxiating.
The place was wrong. Not just a prison. Something worse. A cage built to contain mages and casters. A void of Mana, magic and hope.
The other inmates were ghosts in waiting. Some whispered to walls, claiming the voices were finally quiet. Some begged the guards to be let outside, "Just for one hour, please, I need to see the sun." Others just sat still, unmoving, staring at nothing for hours.
Robin had once made fun of people who claimed magic was like air. Now, it was a concept well understood. Without it, they were hollow. Unanchored.
Mana didn't come back here. No matter how much Robin slept. The whole place was syphoned dry. Scrubbed clean of the natural hum that touched all living things. A dead zone.
They stumbled through days like a fever. Dizzy. Weak. They couldn't tell what time it was. Or if it even mattered.
Samar kept them alive.
Robin's cellmate was a mountain carved out of obsidian. Long braided black thick hair, deep scars, knuckles like bricks. A superb white mage, built for war and survival. Samar's body was an ode to body altering white magic. Samar didn't talk much, but when Robin forgot to eat, Samar asked if they had. When they couldn't stand, Samar helped them. Distant, yes, but constant. Caring.
Robin never asked what Samar did to end up here. Samar never offered. Robin could barely talk either.
And then, one night in the cold, sterile cell... Robin collapsed.
There was no warning. Just a sharp breath, a stumble, and darkness swallowing them whole. Skin pale, lips cracked, eyes half-open but unfocused.
Samar caught them before they hit the floor.
"Medic!" Samar's voice cracked the silence like a thunderclap. No response.
"Medic!" Fists slammed into the cell bars.
Nothing.
Robin's body convulsed once. Then went limp.
Samar looked down, eyes wide. Something deep and old broke loose behind them.
They screamed. Not words. Just rage! And then Samar grabbed the bars and pulled.
With a sound like screaming metal, the steel bent.
"HELP!" Samar roared. "SOMEONE FUCKING HELP THIS KID!"
Alarms didn't even have time to start. The sound of twisting iron was louder.
Robin lay cradled in Samar's arms, unmoving.
Everything else blurred.