The door swung open with a reluctant groan, and dim light from the corridor spilled into the dungeon. His heart slammed against his ribcage, each beat echoing in his ears. The figure in the doorway froze, and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to a single, suffocating question:
Will he die here?
The man pressed himself harder against the wall, trembling, every nerve screaming to flee. Shadows stretched and warped across the floor as the figure stepped closer, each footfall a hammer blow in his skull. Panic clawed at his mind.
They're going to kill me… they've come for me… I can't… I can't survive this…
His thoughts spiraled, desperately trying to form a scenario where he could escape any outcome where he lived. But in his current state, no such path existed. Still, even with that crushing realization, he refused to go down without a fight. He steeled his mind, forcing his body to prepare
Then something felt… wrong.
The figure ahead of him had stopped.
No attack. No movement. Just… stillness.
A pause. Then a sharp intake of breath almost hesitant, almost human. The guard's eyes widened, disbelief flickering across his face.
"You… it's really you?" he whispered, voice unsteady.
The man blinked, confusion crashing into his fear. What? What does he mean?
The guard stepped fully into the room, lowering his weapon slightly, as if something had shifted. "I… I thought I'd never see you here," he muttered. Then he straightened, regaining composure.
"Congratulations," he said, voice firm now. "You've survived… your test."
The words hit him like a blow. His knees threatened to give out.
"Test?" he rasped. "I thought you were… here to…"
"Kill you?" the guard finished, almost absentmindedly. He shook his head. "No."
The man blinked again.
The guard adjusted his grip on the keys, the faint metallic clink echoing in the room. "My master wouldn't want that."
Those words didn't bring relief. If anything, they made it worse twisting his fear into something deeper, more uncertain.
Master…?
If he wasn't in immediate danger, then what exactly was this?
His thoughts shifted, drawn instinctively toward the open doorway behind the guard. Light spilled in from beyond dim, but blinding compared to the suffocating darkness he had endured.
He squinted, vision adjusting.
And then he saw it.
Another door.
Directly opposite his own. Iron-bound. Identical. Closed.
So I'm not the only one here…
"Get up."
The guard's voice cut through the fog flat, unfeeling.
The man didn't move. His body refused, limbs heavy, as if the floor still held him in place. His fingers twitched against the stone.
"I… can't…" he rasped.
A pause. Then slow footsteps approached.
The guard stopped in front of him, looking down with mild impatience. "You can," he said simply. "You just don't want to."
That wasn't true.
Every part of him wanted to move to run, to escape but his body lagged behind, trapped in something deeper than exhaustion.
Fear.
Or something worse.
The guard exhaled softly and crouched just enough to grab his arm. Not rough but not gentle. "Up."
Pain shot through him as he was pulled forward. His legs buckled at first, barely holding his weight. The world tilted, vision swimming
But somehow… he was standing.
His knees trembled violently. For a moment, he just swayed, trying to remember what it felt like to stand.
"Move."
The guard turned without waiting.
The man hesitated
Then followed.
Each step felt foreign, like his body no longer belonged to him. The light outside the cell clawed at his eyes. The air felt different less suffocating, but no less heavy.
He glanced back once.
The cell.
Dark. Silent. Waiting.
His chest tightened.
How long… was I in there?
The thought came suddenly, sharp and disorienting. Hours? Days? Weeks?
He didn't know.
He couldn't remember entering. Sleeping. Eating. Anything.
Just the darkness. The dripping. The breaking.
The corridor stretched ahead stone walls, shadows, doors. More doors. All identical. All closed.
A cage.
The realization didn't come as a thought, but as a feeling.
This wasn't freedom.
Just a bigger prison.
"Keep moving."
The guard didn't look back.
They stopped at another room. The guard pushed the door open.
Light spilled out—brighter this time. Cleaner.
But the moment the man stepped inside, something in him recoiled.
A cage.
Just another cage.
His pulse spiked, panic creeping back in quieter now, but sharper.
How long was I in there…?
And worse
How long will I be in here?
Then
A tap.
Light. Brief.
On his back.
He flinched violently, stumbling forward with a choked gasp.
Someone's behind me.
That wasn't possible.
The guard was in front.
He spun too fast, vision blurring, panic surging again raw and uncontrollable.
A man stood there.
No footsteps. No sound. Just… there.
Calm. Still. Watching him as if he had always been there.
The air shifted subtle, controlled.
The man tilted his head slightly, studying him with quiet certainty.
Then he spoke.
"Rowan."
The name hung in the air.
For a moment, it meant nothing.
Rowan…?
His brows furrowed. The word echoed again, softer this time, slipping into place.
Then something clicked.
A faint pull. Recognition not whole, not clear, but enough.
His breath caught.
That's… me.
And somehow, that made everything worse.
Because if that was his name
Then how did he know it?
Rowan took a small step back, trembling, eyes locked onto the man.
"H-how… do you…"
His voice broke.
Behind him, the guard stood still. Not tense. Not afraid. Just waiting.
Like this was normal.
Like this was expected.
The man's gaze never left Rowan.
"You took longer than expected," he said calmly.