She didn't know what to do with that.
He looked at the succubus and said, "This is a prison cell." Not a question.
She straightened. "More like a world." Her voice settling back to its informational register, the demon retreating behind the domestic. "The ice floor — everyone thrown into the Villainika lands here first. There is a village nearby. People with awakened abilities, trapped for years."
"Time." He nodded. "Different here."
"Ten years here," she said, "is ten days outside."
Soha's breath caught.
He felt it — the small sharp intake against his chest.
"Ten years," she said quietly. Against his shirt. Her voice very small.
"The ones thrown in earliest," the succubus continued, her eyes on Soha with something that was not quite sympathy but was in the same neighborhood, "stopped being criminals generations ago. Their descendants were born here. Grew up here. Some of them have never seen the outside." A pause. "It becomes — native."
Silence.
He stood.
