Escape

The hours slipped away like sand through an hourglass, each moment bringing us closer to our impending escape—or possible doom. The monotony of our cell was broken only by the arrival of our meals, if you could call them that.

Lunch came first, a sorry excuse for sustenance that looked more like gruel than anything edible. The guard shoved two trays through the small opening in our cell door, the metal scraping against stone with a grating screech.

I peered at the unappetising slop, my nose wrinkling involuntarily. "This is lunch?"

April chuckled, a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate through the air. "Trust me, it's better not to look too closely. Just eat."

Taking his advice, I scooped up a spoonful and shovelled it into my mouth. The taste was as bland as its appearance suggested, with an odd, gritty texture that made me want to gag. But as the first bite hit my empty stomach, I realised just how famished I was. I devoured the rest without pause, scraping the tray clean.

Dinner arrived hours later, a carbon copy of our earlier meal. This time, I didn't hesitate. I attacked the food with gusto, barely taking time to breathe between bites. Across from me, April did the same, his massive frame hunched over his tray like a bear protecting its catch.

"You know," I said between mouthfuls, "I never thought I'd be so grateful for prison slop."

April grunted in agreement, his beard flecked with bits of the gray mush. "We need all the strength we can get. Who knows what tonight will bring?"

I nodded, sobering at the thought. Our escape, if it even happened, was bound to be dangerous. We'd need every ounce of energy these pitiful meals could provide.

As I scraped the last bits from my tray, I couldn't help but wonder if this might indeed be our last meal. The thought sent a chill down my spine, but I pushed it aside. We had to focus on the present, on preparing ourselves for whatever lay ahead.

With our trays emptied and our bellies as full as they were likely to get, April and I settled into a tense silence. All we could do now was wait for midnight and hope that Assassin's promise of rescue wasn't just another cruel twist in our already convoluted fate.

"There's something else you should know," April's deep voice broke our silence. "About January and December. They were part of our team too."

The names hit like lightning strikes. My head exploded with fragmented images—a cold, calculating stare across a war table, a hooded figure moving through shadows.

I pressed my palm against my temple. "January... he was our strategist?"

"Yes." April leaned forward. "And December… he barely spoke but-"

"The assassin. Not the Assassin, but..." I winced as another wave of pain shot through my skull. "He wore a hood. Always in the shadows."

"That's right. They were both from the Months Generation, like you. We worked together for years before-"

A grinding sound cut him off. The stone floor in the middle of our cell began to crumble, pieces falling away to reveal a growing hole. My muscles tensed, ready for trouble.

A familiar face emerged from the darkness below. January's sharp features hadn't changed—same calculating eyes, same focused expression. He raised his hand in a quick, precise gesture: two fingers pointed down, then a sweeping motion.

"Well," April whispered, "looks like our rescue came early."

I followed April down through the hole, dropping into a surprisingly wide tunnel. The earthen walls were smooth, too precise to be natural. Creating something like this would've taken days of careful digging, even with proper tools.

September and August stood nearby, free of their chains. The sight of them sent another jolt of recognition through my fragmented memories. December lurked near the wall, his hooded figure barely visible in the dim light, focused on something I couldn't see.

January's voice caught my attention. He was speaking to a thin, dark-skinned man who looked ready to collapse from exhaustion. Sweat poured down his face, his chest heaving with each breath.

"You did a good job, thanks. All we need is to escape. Will you be able to wall, Mole?" January asked.

But Mole's black eyes were locked on me, wide with terror. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, no words coming out. A knot formed in my stomach. What kind of monster had I been, to inspire such raw fear? What horrors lay buried in my missing memories?

"Hey!" January's sharp clap inches from Mole's face made me flinch. "You will be fine. We don't have time. Close the hole and move!" His whisper carried the edge of command, brooking no argument.

January wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace, the gesture feeling both foreign and deeply familiar. His touch sparked something in my fractured mind—countless battles fought side by side, quiet evenings planning missions, shared victories and losses.

Behind us, Mole's hands moved in practiced motions. The hole above sealed itself with barely a whisper, dirt and stone knitting together as if they'd never been disturbed. His dark eyes still wouldn't meet mine as he approached with trembling fingers to remove our chains.

The metal cuffs fell away from my wrists, leaving behind raw red marks. April's chains followed with a dull clank against the earthen floor.

"Good to see you, man. Let's get out of here," January said softly, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken history between us.

I nodded, managing a smile. The memories might be scattered pieces of a broken puzzle, but the bond I felt with these people was real. It ran deeper than conscious thought, etched into my very bones.

April's healing magic washed over me in gentle waves, easing the ache in my muscles and clearing some of the fog from my mind. The familiar sensation brought a flash of memory—him patching us up after countless missions, always ready with that calm strength of his.

We moved through the tunnels in near-silence, our footsteps muffled by the packed earth. The passage twisted and turned, clearly designed to confuse any pursuers. But something felt wrong. My instincts, apparently sharper than my memories, screamed warnings with every step.

This was too easy. No alarms, no guards, no resistance of any kind. Every shadow seemed to hide potential danger, every quiet moment felt like the calm before a storm. My hand kept reaching for a weapon that wasn't there, muscle memory preparing for a fight my mind couldn't remember.

I caught April's eye, and his slight nod told me he felt it too. Whatever waited ahead, this wouldn't be the simple escape we hoped for.

We emerged from the tunnel into the cool night air, my lungs grateful for the fresh breeze after the stale underground passages. A vast, dark forest stretched before us, its trees like black sentinels against the star-filled sky. I glanced back at the fortress, its imposing silhouette stark against the darkness. The stone walls seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, drawing the eye despite—or perhaps because of—the horrors they contained.

A familiar laugh shattered the silence. My blood ran cold as I looked up to see Dzvali hovering in the air above us, his figure backlit by the moon.

"I knew you were coming for your crazy friend!" His voice carried traces of that same mocking tone from our earlier encounter.

Before I could react, August's iron grip seized the back of my shirt, yanking me backward and shoving me toward April.

"Get March out of here!" August's voice boomed across the clearing. He brought his hands together with a thunderous clap.

A wall of flames erupted from the ground, shooting upward until it reached Dzvali's position. The heat hit my face like a physical blow, and for a moment I thought we'd won.

That hope died as a massive gust of wind tore through the area, catching the flames and spreading them in all directions like a deadly flower blooming in the night sky.

January moved faster than thought. Ice crystallized around us, forming a protective dome just as the redirected inferno crashed against its surface. Through the translucent barrier, I watched the flames dance and swirl, transforming the peaceful night into a hellscape of orange and red.

Through the translucent ice, I watched more guards appear on the horizon, their torches piercing the darkness like angry fireflies. My heart hammered against my ribs as April turned to me, his face set with grim determination.

"You need to go." His voice carried the weight of command. "September, you go with him and let's meet at home."

January thrust his hands upward. The ice dome exploded outward, shards flying in every direction and extinguishing the surrounding flames. "Mole! You go too, you're too tired!"

Dzvali struck like a viper, sword flashing in the moonlight as he dove straight for us. April lunged forward, his hands encased in solid rock as he caught the blade between them. The impact rang through the clearing like a thunderclap.

December materialized from the shadows behind Dzvali, blade aimed at his back. But Dzvali spun, a gust of wind catching December mid-strike and sending him tumbling through the air.

Before I could move to help, September's iron grip locked around my waist. He hoisted me over his shoulder like a sack of grain and took off toward the forest in powerful bounds that seemed to defy gravity.

"No! Wait! We should help!" The words tore from my throat as I watched my friends prepare to face impossible odds.

"You would only hold them back, trust me!" September's reply cut through my protests as we plunged deeper into the darkness of the forest.

I struggled against his grip, but it was like fighting a steel bar. Through the gaps in the trees, I caught one last glimpse of the battle—April standing firm, January's ice glinting in the moonlight, August flames and December's shadow dancing between them—before the forest swallowed us whole.