Executing The Plan

Three hours before the explosion.

A brown-haired knight clad in his royal red uniform strolled down the dimly lit tunnel, his bouncing steps echoing against the cold stone walls. 

Raith hummed a cheerful tune, a catchy melody he had picked up from a bard during a family outing last week. Since it was a rare opportunity to spend time with his family, he was still wrapped in a bubble of happiness.

With one hand, he pushed a wheelchair that had seen better days. Its creaky wheels groaned like an old man waking up from a nap. Raith didn't mind, though. He had his own rhythm going.

As he approached a heavy steel door, he fished out a key from his pocket and gave it a spin in the rusty lock. The door creaked open to reveal a small cell with a metal bunk bed.