The boys were taken to a place that could only be described as hell on earth.
The journey there was brutal—guards yanked them by their arms and shoved them forward with no regard, as if they were nothing more than wild beasts being herded to slaughter. Their feet stumbled across the uneven, cracked ground, their wrists bound tightly with coarse rope that bit into their skin. Dust clung to their sweat-drenched faces, and every breath tasted of rust and ash.
When they finally arrived, the sight that greeted them made their blood run cold.
It wasn't a prison. It was a labor camp.
All around them, people—men, women, even boys not much younger than themselves—were working under the scorching sun. They hauled stones twice their size, dug endless trenches, and pushed broken carts up steep slopes. Their backs were hunched, their faces gaunt, and their eyes were empty, as if whatever spark they once had had long since been extinguished.
Guards, armed with whips and metal rods, patrolled the grounds like vultures. With every missed step or moment's pause, the whips cracked through the air, followed by a scream or a groan of pain. There was no mercy. No water. No shade. No rest.
The boys could only watch, frozen in place, their limbs trembling.
Then, without a word, they were led into another building.
This one stood taller and darker than the others, its surface made of matte-black alloy that seemed to absorb all light. The entrance hissed open as they approached, revealing a long corridor bathed in a cold, artificial glow.
Their footsteps echoed against the sleek, metallic floor as they walked. The walls were smooth, almost reflective, with glowing lines pulsing faintly beneath the surface like veins in a machine.
As they were dragged deeper inside, their eyes were drawn to a massive door at the far end of the corridor—towering, imposing, far larger than any they had seen so far. Its sheer size made everything else around it look small, insignificant.
It wasn't just a door.
It was a barrier meant to keep something in—or something out.
Jet black and made of reinforced alloy, it stretched nearly from floor to ceiling, easily two stories tall. Mechanical locks lined the frame like bolts on a war machine, and in the center was a circular emblem glowing faintly with electric blue symbols in a language neither of them recognized. Above the emblem, a red warning light blinked slowly, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Guards patrolled in pairs at either side of the door, dressed in heavier armor than the ones escorting Reo and Jun. Their weapons were strapped to their chests, and their faces were hidden behind black visors.
But Reo and Jun weren't led to that door.
Instead, the guards jerked them sharply to the side—toward a narrow corridor that veered just a few feet before the door.
They were yanked forward without warning, dragged past the monstrous gate, its presence looming behind them like a warning.
Reo glanced over his shoulder.
Whatever was behind that door… it wasn't meant for prisoners like them.
It was meant for something far more dangerous.
They were led down a long corridor that twisted and turned, the lights growing dimmer with every step. The further they walked, the heavier the silence became—thick and suffocating, broken only by the echo of their footsteps and the low hum of overhead lights.
Eventually, the passage opened into a vast prison block.
It was massive—spanning nearly ten stories high, like a tower turned on its side. Metal catwalks crisscrossed in every direction, lined with cold, steel-barred cells stacked one above the other like cages in a warehouse. The entire place was shrouded in a dull, flickering light, casting warped shadows across the walls. Echoes of distant shouting and groaning floated through the air like ghosts.
The cells weren't empty this time.
Some prisoners were slumped against the bars, silent and broken. Others stared blankly from the darkness, their faces pale and sunken, skin hanging off their bones. The stench of sweat, blood, and rot clung to the air, making Jun gag and Reo narrow his eyes.
Without a single word, one of the guards jabbed Reo in the back with the butt of his gun, hard.
"Move."
Reo stumbled forward, gritting his teeth.
The boys were shoved toward a flight of narrow metal stairs that spiraled upward, the grating clanging under their boots as they climbed. Each level looked just like the last—cells, chains, and more haunted faces.
By the time they reached the third—or maybe fourth—floor, Reo had lost count.
Then finally, they stopped.
The guards halted in front of one of the cells near the far end of the walkway. Its door was already open, like it had been waiting for them.
Reo and Jun stared at it, saying nothing.
The cell was small. Cramped. A single rusted bed frame without a mattress sat in the corner. The walls were cracked, smeared with old stains, and covered in scratches—some words, some marks counting days.
The guards didn't give them time to hesitate.
With another shove, they were forced inside.
And the door slammed shut behind them with a metallic clang that echoed like the sound of finality.
Reo scrambled to his feet, fists banging against the bars. "GET US OUT OF HERE, MOTHERFUCKERS!" he roared, his voice echoing down the corridor.
But Jun didn't move.
He sat against the wall like a discarded puppet, limbs slack, his face pale and blank. His eyes stared ahead, unfocused, like he wasn't even there anymore.
"I-is this the end…?" he muttered, his voice barely more than a breath.
Reo turned to him, furious. "CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP?!"
Jun's head snapped up. His hollow stare turned into something sharp.
"THIS IS ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!" he yelled, his voice cracking.
Reo narrowed his eyes. "Oh, here we go."
"We wouldn't be in this shithole if you hadn't been so tempted by that damn food!" Jun snapped, voice trembling with rage and fear. "You couldn't resist, could you? Had to take the risk. Had to act like a hero."
Reo scoffed, stepping closer. "Oh, we're blaming me now?! Really?! Because of me, you at least got your belly full for once!"
He jabbed a finger toward Jun's chest. "You were going to die of starvation anyway. So what if it ends like this? At least we weren't empty inside when we were caught!"
Jun surged to his feet. "Do you think it's funny?! That we're going to rot in here like animals?!" His voice broke. "I don't want to die, not like this… not so soon."
He clenched his fists and lowered his head. "Not before I see my family again…"
Just as the silence between them settled like dust, the cell door groaned open again. The rusty hinges screamed, and in stepped two guards clad in black armor, their boots thudding against the stone floor like the drums of an execution march.
Without a word, one of them hurled a pile of tattered clothing onto the floor in front of the boys.
"Wear it" the taller one barked, his tone flat and merciless.
Reo stepped forward, defiant. "We're no slaves—"
CRACK!
The sound of the whip slicing through the air was followed by Reo's cry of pain. He staggered back, clutching his shoulder, where the raw lash mark was already blooming into an angry welt.
Jun flinched, frozen, his eyes wide with terror as he looked from the guards to Reo, unable to move or speak.
"No arguments" the other guard growled, eyes like cold steel.
The boys didn't resist after that.
Reo gritted his teeth, swallowing his pride, and dropped to his knees to grab the clothes. Jun followed, hands trembling as he picked up the fabric.
They dressed in silence, humiliated and trembling.
Reo bit back a growl of fury. Jun lowered his head, as if the fabric itself weighed him down.
As soon as the last button was fastened and the collar snapped shut around their necks, the taller of the two guards turned toward them again.
"Follow us" he ordered coldly, his voice like iron scraping stone.
Without waiting for a response, the two guards turned and began walking down the dimly lit corridor, their boots echoing off the dark walls with a chilling finality.
Reo and Jun exchanged a quick glance. There was no conversation between them—just the quiet, heavy understanding that passed through their eyes. Refuse, and they'd be whipped bloody again. Comply, and they might live a little longer.
They didn't have a choice.
Reo's jaw tightened. He gave a subtle nod and stepped forward. Jun hesitated, but the heavy silence around them and the faint creak of the guards' armor was pressure enough to push his legs into motion.
The hallway they entered was cold and narrow, lit only by flickering torches embedded in the walls. The air was damp and stank of mold, sweat, and old iron. Shadows danced around them as they walked, creating twisted shapes that slithered across the stone.
Reo kept his head up, trying to look defiant despite the sting of the whip still burning on his back. Jun walked quietly beside him, eyes darting from wall to wall like he was expecting something to jump out of the dark at any moment.
Chains rattled in the distance.
A scream—faint, but real—echoed from somewhere deep within the prison.
Neither of them spoke.
They just walked.
Step by step, deeper into the unknown.