Riko. That's how Ashlynn calls him.
He lies on his side near the bars, one arm folded under his chest as if holding himself together. His body looks used. Scars layered over scars. None old enough to fade. None fresh enough to kill him yet. His uniform hangs loose, torn open at the shoulder, dark where it's still wet. Dampness clings to his skin, cold, stubborn, like the prison itself refuses to let go.
"Thank you," Riko says.
He says it again.
Then a third time. Quieter. Like he's counting rather than speaking. Each syllable measured. Deliberate. As if forcing the air itself to obey.
Ashlynn tears a strip of cloth from her sleeve. The sound is soft. Final. She leans over him and presses the cloth against his side, wiping until the red thins across his skin. Her hand doesn't shake—
until the very end.
Riko takes the cloth from her fingers. He wipes himself once more, slower now, tracing the lines of old wounds. Memorizing the pain.
"Thanks, Ash."
He lets the cloth fall and crawls toward the bars. When he reaches them, he presses his face close, angling his ear into the narrow gap between the metal. He doesn't move. He doesn't blink. He waits.
I turn to Ashlynn. "What is he doing?"
"Shh."
Riko hisses it without turning.
Ashlynn leans toward me, her shoulder brushing the wall. "Wardens," she whispers. "They always carry chains."
"Wardens?" I whisper back. "The big one?"
She nods once.
"They're inhumans," she says.
Inhumans. The meaning is hollow in my head. I nod as if I already understand.
Time stretches thin. The corridor breathes around us.
Riko pulls back from the bars and lifts two fingers. Then curls them inward.
"Come."
Ashlynn moves first. Already low. Already quiet. She crosses the floor to the cell door and slips her fingers into her hair. The lockpick slides free, hidden flat against her scalp. She kneels and works the keyhole, shoulders hunched, body shielding her hands. Every movement sharp. Deliberate. Necessary.
"A door past the hallway leads to stairs," Riko whispers. "We're not taking that."
Ashlynn exhales through her nose. "Back to solitary."
"Yes," Riko says. "Then up. Then freedom."
I nod because they both do. Agreement weighs heavier than words.
The lock clicks.
The sound is small.
It feels loud anyway.
We leave the cell. Ashlynn first. Then Riko. Then me.
We turn left. The corridor stretches into sections ahead, bars and doors repeating into dimness. Some bodies inside the cells shift. Some don't. Eyes open. Eyes close. No one speaks.
When a cell makes noise, we stop.
When it goes quiet, we move.
Then—
the sound of a chain dragging across stone.
Ashlynn drops immediately, one hand lifted to stop us. We crouch where we are. No breath. No movement.
The sound passes.
It stops at a cell near the next turn. We don't see it. We hear the chain slacken. A lock opens. A door moves.
We move while it's busy.
Faster now. Still low.
Ashlynn reaches the corridor door. She slides her lockpick in.
Locked.
She works fast.
"AHHHHHHHHH."
A scream tears through the corridor.
It ends too quickly.
The chain drags again. Clear now. Steady. Coming toward us.
Ashlynn's hand slips. The pick scrapes metal. She stills it with her thumb and tries again.
Click.
The door opens.
We spill through into the hallway beyond.
The ceiling rises higher here, pulling the shadows upward away from the doors that line the walls and the pillars that break the space into jagged fragments. Lanterns hang between them, dim and colorless, the light thick and uneven. Dark stains mark the cobblestones. Pools of liquid catch reflections that don't settle. The air smells faintly metallic. Stagnant. Heavy.
We run to the nearest pillar and press into its shadowed side. Ashlynn's fingers close around my hand. Her grip is firm. Too firm. Heat lingers when she releases it.
BAM.
The door we came from shuts.
The sound echoes down the hallway and spills into its branching corridors. The sound of chain follows.
We don't move.
The sound comes closer. Slower now.
Deliberate.
It stops. Just on the other side of our pillar.
I hear its breathing. Wet. Heavy. Too close.
Then it moves again.
The chain slides past. The sound fades.
Ashlynn releases my hand. Her fingers leave heat behind.
Riko lifts his arm and points.
"That way."
We move pillar to pillar, keeping to shadow, stepping only where the floor is already dark. Even our breathing waits for distant screams to cover it.
Another door.
A chain suddenly scrapes in front of us.
A figure steps into view.
Two meters tall.
A warden.
It stands between us and the door.
Sweat runs from my hairline, down my cheek, and drops to the floor. The splash is small.
The echo isn't.
The warden's single eye fixes on us. Red. Then blue.
It opens the door behind it. Steps aside. Turns its back.
A clear path.
My chest tightens.
Riko takes one step forward. Then stops.
"We go now," Riko says. He doesn't look back.
"No." Ashlynn's voice cracks once. She doesn't raise it.
"This is our chance."
"It's still standing there," she says.
"There's a way, Ash."
I speak before I think. "Back to cell or solitary."
Riko moves.
He passes the warden.
I take Ashlynn's hand and follow.
The warden shifts.
I glance back.
The blue drains from its eye.
Red returns.
The door closes.