WORKSITE THREE…
The sun showed no mercy.
Hour after hour, it hung over the excavation site like an unmoving eye, baking the endless sea of sand beneath it. Heat shimmered across the ground, blurring the towering prison walls in the distance.
Steel struck earth. Again, and again, and again.
The rhythm had become hypnotic.
Hundreds of prisoners dug in perfect silence, their shovels rising and falling as though they had long ago surrendered ownership of their own bodies.
Shirley drove his shovel into the sand.
Metal scraped against stone.
He sighed and tossed another heavy scoop into the rusted pan beside him.
"…How much longer?" Tucker groaned.
"I stopped keeping track." Shirley answered.
"I stopped caring." Tucker said as he wiped sweat off his forehead.
Another shovel of sand.
Another pan.
Another command barked somewhere across the worksite.
The guards never seemed to run out of voices.
A gust of wind swept through the excavation, carrying loose grains of sand across the prisoners' uniforms.
Shirley instinctively looked beyond the prison walls.
There it was. The Tree of Knowledge.
Its colossal pink canopy stretched above the walls like a second sky. Thousands of leaves drifted lazily through the air, untouched by the ugliness surrounding it. Never touching the ground.
It looked peaceful. Too peaceful.
Then…the tree groaned.
A deep, ancient sound rolled across the worksite.
It wasn't loud. It didn't shake the ground. Yet it felt like the entire world paused for the briefest moment.
Just one heartbeat. Shirley felt it again, warmth.
Not the scorching heat of the sun…something gentler.
Like standing beside someone he had forgotten.
"…There it is again," he whispered. Tucker stopped digging. "You hear it too?"
Shirley nodded slowly. "It almost sounds…" He struggled to find the words. "…Lonely."
The feeling vanished as quickly as it had come.
A rifle butt slammed against a nearby shovel. "KEEP WORKING!"
The entire worksite lurched back into motion.
Shovels bit into the sand once more.
Shirley frowned. "…Did anyone else stop?"
The older prisoner beside him kept digging without looking up. "They always stop."
"…Why?" Shirley asked.
The old man shrugged. "They don't even realize they do."
Another groan echoed from the tree.
This time, the old prisoner's hands froze completely.
His cloudy eyes drifted toward the distant pink branches.
For just a second…something returned to his face.
Recognition? Hope? Maybe a memory.
Then it disappeared.
His shoulders slumped. He lowered his head and resumed digging. "…Forget you heard it," he muttered.
Shirley blinked. "What?"
The old man didn't answer.
Instead, he quietly whispered something beneath his breath.
Something Shirley almost missed. "…It remembers."
Before Shirley could ask what he meant, a deafening horn blasted across Worksite Three.
This was different from the alarm, or whistle.
Every guard immediately stood at attention. Every rifle was raised.
The massive iron gates at the far end of the excavation began to open.
The wind arrived before she did.
A violent gust tore across Worksite Three, swallowing the entire excavation site in a storm of sand.
Prisoners shielded their faces with their arms. Guards turned away, their uniforms snapping against their bodies as thousands of grains of sand whipped through the air.
For several seconds, nobody could see anything.
Then, through the storm, a figure emerged.
Two guards walked beside her. Not dragging her, not forcing her.
Just escorting her. A prisoner.
When the wind finally calmed, the entire worksite fell silent.
The woman stood beneath the harsh sunlight wearing the same thin white uniform as everyone else, contrasting with her warm skin.
Her eyes were swollen and red, as if she had spent hours crying before ever stepping foot into the excavation.
Her brown hair rested neatly against her shoulders, almost untouched by the chaos around her.
And her eyes…they were filled with something most prisoners no longer had.
Innocence.
A guard shoved a shovel and rusted pan into her hands.
"Work."
The woman stared down at the tools. Then slowly walked forward.
Every prisoner watched. Nobody spoke.
A new prisoner was common. A new prisoner who looked that broken was rare.
She moved deeper into the excavation site, ignoring every pair of eyes following her.
Step after step. Until eventually…she stopped.
Only a few feet away from Shirley and Tucker.
Then she began digging. Like she had done it a thousand times before.
Shovel. Lift. Pour. Repeat.
A guard shouted across the worksite. "BACK TO WORK!"
The command snapped everyone back into motion.
The prisoner's movements became the only thing that remained unusual.
She didn't hesitate.
Didn't complain. Didn't struggle.
She worked like she already knew how to survive.
Shirley couldn't stop watching. Neither could Tucker.
The massive iron gates stood in the distance, gleaming beneath the sunlight.
So close. Yet impossibly far. Freedom was right there. But everyone knew better than to run.
The woman continued digging. "…You're going to get in trouble if you keep staring."
Her voice was quiet, soft.
But beneath it was something else. A crack. Like she was forcing herself to pretend everything was okay.
Shirley and Tucker immediately looked away and returned to work.
Shovel. Over, and over, and over.
The silence lasted several minutes.
Until Shirley finally spoke. "…What's your name?"
The woman didn't look at him. "Doesn't matter." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Shirley glanced at Tucker. Tucker shrugged.
A few more moments passed.
Then Tucker asked, "What are you in for?"
The woman's shovel stopped. Slowly, she looked up. Her expression changed, disbelief. "Are you serious?"
Tucker blinked.
She looked between the two of them. "I don't know you." Her grip tightened around the shovel. "And you don't know me."
A pause.
"Besides…" Her eyes lowered. "You're children."
The words came out harsher than she intended, "What are you even doing here?"
Silence.
Then she realized. It didn't matter, none of it mattered.
Age. Status. Crime. Innocence.
Everyone here had the same destination.
Tucker looked down. "We got tricked."
The woman stared at him.
"We were invited onto a plane." His hands tightened around the shovel. "We thought it was something else."
A pause.
"But it was a trap." Shirley continued quietly. "They captured everyone on board. We tried to stop them."
Tucker gave a small, bitter laugh. "…You can probably tell how that went."
The woman didn't respond. She just stared at them. And slowly…something in her expression broke.
Her lips trembled. Her eyes filled.
Shirley frowned. "…Are you okay?"
The woman looked away. She tried to hold it in. She really tried. But she couldn't.
Tears slipped down her face. Then more.Then suddenly…the alarm sounded.
A loud, mechanical warning echoed across Worksite Three. "ALL PRISONERS RETURN TO DESIGNATED POSITIONS. THE SECOND WORK PERIOD HAS ENDED."
The woman froze. Her shovel slipped from her hand.
Before Shirley or Tucker could react, she grabbed them.
Pulling both of them into a desperate embrace.
Both boys flinched.
"…!"
She held onto them tightly. Like if she let go…she would disappear.
Her tears soaked into their uniforms. "I'm sorry…" Her voice cracked. "I'm so sorry…"
Shirley and Tucker looked at each other, completely confused.
Then they heard her whisper. "They killed him…" Her grip tightened. "No…"
A sob escaped. "I killed him."
The words froze both of them. "I killed my husband…" Her voice shattered. "With my own hands."
Shirley's eyes widened.
Tucker stopped moving.
"He forced me…" She buried her face into their shoulders. "I didn't want to…"
A broken sob.
"I hate him…" Another, "I hate Mengu…"
The name made Shirley freeze.
"Mengu Lucrause forced me…"
Her entire body shook. "He made me kill him."
She cried harder. "My husband…" A desperate whisper.
"Tony…"
The name hung between them.
Tony.
Shirley and Tucker exchanged a stunned look.
They didn't know who Tony was. But they knew one thing. Whatever happened to him…this woman had lived through something horrible.
Shirley slowly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Okay…"
His voice was uncertain. "But we should get inside."
He glanced toward the guards beginning to organize prisoners. "We have friends." A pause. "They can help."
The woman slowly pulled away. Her face was covered in tears. For a moment, she looked lost.
Then she nodded. "…Okay."
Together, they joined the line of prisoners returning inside.
The guards forced everyone into position.
Blindfolds were prepared.
And as the doors of the Sand Lot closed behind them…
Shirley couldn't stop thinking about one thing.
Who was Tony? And what had Mengu done to him?
RETURNING BACK TO THE CAFETERIA…
The walk back was silent. Not because nobody had anything to say, because nobody knew what to say.
The woman who had entered Worksite Three as a stranger now walked between them, surrounded by people she had only known for a few minutes.
Yet she held onto that small connection like it was the only thing keeping her standing.
The guards pushed the prisoners forward through the stone corridors.
Eventually, the familiar sound returned.
The cafeteria. Hundreds of prisoners filled the room once again.
Metal bowls clattered. Benches scraped. Voices echoed.
But unlike before, something felt different.
The group found their table from the morning.
Michonne, EBS and Tongue were already there.
Tongue immediately noticed the unfamiliar face.
She leaned forward. "New friend?"
Michonne looked at her. "…How do you know she's our friend?"
Tongue smiled. "Because she's sitting with us."
Michonne stared. "…That's not how friendship works."
Tongue tilted her head. "But you're sitting with me?"
Michonne sighed. She gave up arguing.
The woman slowly sat down beside Shirley and Tucker.
For a few moments, nobody spoke.
Then Shirley finally broke the silence. "What's your name?"
The woman looked down at her bowl.
For a moment, it seemed like she wouldn't answer.
Then…she shook her head. "No."
A pause. "I heard names don't matter here. My actual name doesn't matter anymore."
Shirley immediately frowned. "I don't like that."
Everyone looked at him.
Shirley pointed at himself. "I'm Shirley."
Then she pointed at Michonne. "She's Michonnne."
Then at EBS and Tucker. "That's EBS and Tucker."
She looked back at LB82. "So you should have one too."
The woman stared at him. For the first time…a small smile appeared. "…LB82. But people call me…L…"
EBS's eyes widened. "See?" She smiled proudly. "Much better."
Michonne glanced away.
But nobody missed the slight softening in her expression.
The bowls arrived. Gray porridge. A piece of stale bread. And a small cup of water that looked cleaner than it probably was.
Tucker stared at his bowl.
"…I think this somehow looks worse than this morning."
Shirley picked up his spoon. "How?"
"I don't know." Tucker poked the porridge. "It looks like it learned new ways to disappoint me."
Tongue immediately grabbed her spoon. "I like it."
Everyone looked at her. She shrugged. "It tastes like nothing."
A pause. "Nothing is my favorite flavor."
Nobody knew how to respond to that.
EBS quietly pushed her bowl away. "I still hate this place."
Nobody disagreed.
But LB82 barely touched her food. Her eyes remained fixed on the table.
Shirley noticed. "L…"
She looked up. "…You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
Silence.
Then she shook her head. "No."
Her hands tightened around the bowl. "I need to."
The group became quiet. "I keep thinking…" Her voice trembled. "Maybe if I say it enough times, it will feel less real."
She swallowed. "But it doesn't."
A tear fell onto the metal table. "Mengu…" The name alone carried hatred. "He took everything from me."
Nobody interrupted.
"He told me Tony was going to be given something."
Shirley's expression changed slightly. "Something?"
L nodded. "The bark."
Everyone looked at her. "The bark from the Tree of Knowledge."
The table went silent. "The one outside?" Shirley asked.
L nodded. "I… he… forced me...nothing…" Her fingers trembled. "He told him it could grant wishes."
Tucker frowned. "Wait… actually?"
L looked down. "I don't know."
A pause. "But Tony believed it." Her voice became quieter. "He was so happy."
The memory hurt. "He looked like a different person."
She wiped her eyes. "For a moment, he wasn't scared."
Another tear. "He thought he could finally change something."
Michonne crossed her arms. "And Mengu?"
L's expression hardened. "He lied." Everyone went quiet.
"He gave Tony hope." Her voice cracked. "Then he took it away."
She looked at her hands. "The worst part…"
A pause. "He made me do it."
Nobody moved. "He put the gun in my hands."
EBS's expression dropped. "He forced you?"
L nodded. "I tried to fight." Her breathing became uneven. "I tried everything."
She squeezed her eyes shut. "But I couldn't move."
Silence.
"Mengu Lucrause made me kill my own husband."
Nobody knew what to say. So they didn't. They simply stayed. Sometimes that was the only thing they could do.
After a while, Shirley quietly spoke. "I'm sorry."
L looked at him. "Me too."
Tucker nodded, clenching his fist in anger.
"Yeah." EBS said.
A small pause. "We don't know what we can do yet…"
She looked around the table. "But you're not alone anymore."
L stared at them.
And for the first time since arriving…she looked like she believed someone.
Then she opened her mouth. "The bark…"
Everyone looked back. "There was something else."
Her voice lowered. "Before Tony left, Mengu told him something."
She hesitated. "Something about the tree's history."
Shirley leaned closer. "What?"
L looked toward the cafeteria entrance. "…I don't know if I should say it here."
The group exchanged confused looks. "Why?"
Before L could answer, a sound interrupted them.
Something else.
The cafeteria had changed. Prisoners were eating faster. Bowls were being emptied in seconds.
People who normally dragged out meals were suddenly shoveling food into their mouths.
Tucker looked around. "…Why is everyone eating like that?"
Michonne followed his gaze. "They're leaving."
A prisoner nearby stood immediately after finishing his meal. Another followed, then another.
Hundreds began moving toward the exits.
EBS frowned. "What's happening?"
Tongue's eyes widened. "Oh."
Everyone looked at her. "Oh?"
She smiled, "Fight Night."
The name alone changed the atmosphere. The entire cafeteria seemed to come alive.
Whispers spread. People rushed. Excitement replaced exhaustion.
Even prisoners who looked half-dead during work suddenly moved with energy.
Shirley noticed the crowd gathering near the exits. "They've been waiting for this."
Tucker slowly stood. "Wait…"
He looked toward EBS. "Your fight is tonight."
EBS answered, "So is yours."
Across the cafeteria…PN378 stood among the crowd.
Watching, waiting.
The same calm smile on her face. The prisoners began leaving in waves.
The conversation about the Tree of Knowledge disappeared beneath the growing noise.
L looked toward the exit. "We should talk later."
Shirley nodded. "Yeah."
Michonne stood. "We need to see what we're dealing with."
One by one, they left the table. Tucker quickly grabbed a piece of the stale bread.
Following the thousands of prisoners moving toward the same destination.
The place where the prisons entertainment began.
Fight Night.