Hudson turned and began walking down the corridor.
After a few steps, he realized Wren wasn’t following him.
The massive man glanced over his shoulder.
"What’s wrong, brat? Lost the ability to walk again?"
Wren’s eyebrow twitched.
"Give me one good reason why I should follow you."
"Because if you don’t, those two guards will drag you out themselves."
Hudson pointed his thumb toward the armed men standing outside the cell.
Both guards stared at Wren with cold expressions, their hands resting on the weapons at their waists.
Wren considered his options.
He could refuse.
He could also get beaten unconscious and dragged through the prison.
Neither sounded particularly appealing.
"...Fine."
He stepped out of the cell, wincing slightly as his stiff legs moved for the first time in ten days.
Hudson noticed his unsteady movements.
"Hah! Look at you. You can barely walk!"
"Keep laughing. Next time, I’ll make sure you lose a few teeth."
"Oh? You planning to fight me again?"
"No. I’m planning to find a very large rock and drop it on your head while you’re sleeping."
Hudson burst into laughter.
"HAHAHA! You’ve got some guts, kid!"
Wren gritted his teeth and continued walking.
One day, I’m going to kill that damn old man.
Noted, Envy replied cheerfully inside his mind.
I wasn’t talking to you.
I know. I’m just making sure your murderous intentions are properly documented.
Shut up.
The corridor stretched ahead, illuminated by dim lamps mounted along the stone walls. The air smelled of damp rock, sweat, and something unpleasant that Wren couldn’t quite identify.
As they walked, he noticed several iron doors lining both sides of the passage.
Some cells were silent.
Others weren’t.
A man laughed hysterically somewhere behind a door. Farther ahead, someone was shouting curses at the guards. The sound of metal striking metal echoed through the prison.
Wren frowned.
Wren finally reaches the end of the long stone corridor, stopping in front of a massive, heavy iron door that stands twice his height.
?However, he notices that Hudson and a group of other inmates are lingering right outside the entrance, refusing to take another step.
?"What’s going on...?" Wren asks, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
?Hudson crosses his massive arms, a grim expression on his scarred face. "We don’t have permission to enter. You’re the only one they called."
?A heavy knot of unease twists tightly in Wren’s stomach. Something feels deeply wrong, but before he can question it any further, he takes a deep breath and pushes the heavy door open.
?Stepping past the threshold, Wren enters the dimly lit chamber.
?Clang.
?The moment he crosses inside, Hudson immediately slams the heavy iron door shut from the outside, leaving Wren entirely alone in the dark.
The heavy clang echoed through the chamber.
Wren froze.
For several seconds, he simply stared at the closed iron door.
Then he slowly turned his head toward it.
"...Hudson?"
No response.
"Hey, old man. What the hell are you doing?"
Silence.
Wren hurried toward the door and slammed his palm against it.
"OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!"
His voice echoed through the chamber.
Outside, he heard Hudson’s deep laughter.
"HAHAHAHA! Good luck, brat!"
"You son of a—!"
Before Wren could finish his sentence, another voice interrupted him.
"There’s no point shouting. They won’t open it until the meeting is over."
Wren’s body stiffened.
He wasn’t alone.
Slowly, he turned around.
The chamber was far larger than he’d initially realized. Dim lamps hung from the stone walls, illuminating a long table at its center. Several figures sat around it, their faces hidden beneath the shadows.
At the head of the table sat a woman.
She wore a dark coat with silver buttons, and her long black hair fell neatly over her shoulders. A thin scar ran from the corner of her left eye toward her cheek, giving her otherwise composed face a rather intimidating appearance.
Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the tabletop.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Wren’s gaze swept across the room.
There were six people besides the woman.
A thin man with round spectacles sat to her right, examining a stack of documents. Beside him rested a muscular bald man whose arms were covered in intricate tattoos.
Across the table, a middle-aged woman with short red hair leaned back in her chair, watching Wren with open curiosity.
The remaining three figures were difficult to read. One wore a hood that concealed most of their face, another was busy sharpening a small knife, and the last appeared to be sleeping with his arms folded across his chest.
What the hell is this? Some kind of secret organization?
"Wren."
The woman at the head of the table spoke.
Her voice was calm, but something about it made Wren straighten instinctively.
"That’s my name," he answered cautiously. "And you are?"
Instead of answering, she studied him from head to toe.
?"How many days has it been since he was placed inside?" a cold, authoritative voice asks from across the room.
?The bald researcher glances down at his detailed files before looking up. "Twenty days, Madam."
?"Twenty days..." A female figure steps out from the shadows, her expression completely detached as she reviews the logs. "And has he shown any signs of digesting the substance administered so far?"
?"Not yet, Madam," the researcher replies cautiously.
?At that, the woman reaches into a sleek leather bag resting on the steel table beside her, pulling out a small, airtight vial filled with a glowing, vibrant green liquid.
?She holds it up under the dim lights, a chilling smile touching her lips as she turns her gaze toward the sealed chamber holding Wren.
?"Give this to him," she commands.
The bald researcher hesitated.
"Madam... are you certain?"
Her eyes shifted toward him.
"Did I stutter?"
The researcher immediately lowered his head.
"No, Madam."
He carefully took the vial from her hand.
The woman returned her attention to the sealed chamber.
"Twenty days," she murmured. "If the previous subjects couldn’t withstand it, then we’ll find out whether this one is different."
The researcher glanced nervously at the vial.
"And if he reacts badly?"
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
"Then we learn something."
The researcher said nothing more.