Died twice, still alive, whether that's good or not is debatable

It was dark.

That was the first thing he noticed when he awoke.

It was dark and deadly silent.

'Where am I?'

He asked, but no sound escaped his lips.

'Where are Silk and the others? Are they safe?... Am I safe?...'

He didn't know.

His body was numb and paralyzed.

As if someone had disconnected all of his nerves and senses, leaving behind nothing but a steady and quiet hum in his bones.

Thorn would be lying if he said that he had not experienced such a thing before.

Or at least something similar to this.

After all, sleep paralysis was a common thing in his small family and they would often end up taking care of each other during that time. 

But, despite the familiarity of this situation, he couldn't help but feel...afraid.

This place felt timeless, so ancient and untouched. And he knew out of pure instinct that he did not belong here. That he shouldn't be here. That he should've been already dead.

Of course, his mind could be playing tricks on him since he couldn't remember much after meeting Silk.

The only things left in his memory were mere fragments of scattered events. Flashes of moments that didn't make sense. Blurred faces. Distorted sounds. Feelings that were all over the place.

It was pure chaos.

All in all, Thorn could do nothing but hope and pray that the others were alright and not stuck in the same place as he was. He did not want them to experience this too. He did not want them to suffer for his sake.

Something moved in the corner of his eye.

His honey-colored eyes snapped towards it, discovering... nothing?

But he was so sure that...

Ugh never mind, he was probably already turning delusional. And besides, how could anyone even know where he was.

Wait. There! Is that a...

...spark?

He eyed it with curiosity. Why did it come here?

No. How did it come here?

It was flickering like a candle in the wind, slowly growing bigger and brighter as it expanded.

Not helping the growing unease in his stomach.

Soon, warm golden light filtered through the darkness, and the spark had transformed into a gateway with a shining figure stepping through.

A string was connecting him to that figure. A strange sight really, if someone were to ask him.

It began to reach for him, coming closer and closer until its glowing hands had cupped his face. His body would've been certainly frozen with fear if he wasn't already paralyzed.

One of its hands reached up to his forehead and slowly traced a symbol onto it, its touch feeling the same way that Co2 burned on your skin in a room without enough oxygen.

Once finished, the figure whispered something in his ear and he could swear that it said something like: revive.

But before he could dwell on it any longer, a bright golden light flooded his vision, causing every cell in his body to burn with the intensity of being shoved into a volcano.

His mouth stretched into a silent scream and then he knew no more.

Slowly blinking away the darkness, he regained consciousness again.

Thorn laid there, staring at the ceiling as he tried to figure out where he was. Because as far as he knew, he basically just died.

His body emitted a dull thrum. Like those pounding headaches, one would get after napping for too long.

He tried to sit up, but as soon as he moved his arm to support himself, it began to burn under the strain, muscles screaming at him to stop.

Quickly giving up, he let himself drop back onto the bed. Deciding to simply observe his surroundings a bit more before trying again.

The room was quite...bland if anything. The walls were grey, he had a small corner bathroom with a sink and a toilet, and a white bed. As white as all of the furniture that he had spotted.

The bed itself was alright. Kinda hard but soft enough to not worsen his pain by making him stiff.

And to the right was a row of metal bars.

Oh...great.

He was in prison.

Thorn sighed deeply.

To tell the truth, he still felt like shit.

His body ached and hurt in countless places as if he had been buried under rocks.

And not only was he in pain but he was also exhausted. And heavily so.

Biting back several pained grunts, Thorn did his best to get onto his feet and explore a little more. Not wanting to fall victim to his boredom and knowing that he couldn't lie here forever.

So, as soon as he was sure that he could walk without dropping like a wet potato sack, he went straight to the sink in hopes to ease the pain with some warm water.

But as soon as he saw himself in the mirror, Thorn gasped.

His mask was broken on the right side of his face.

It looked like it had been blown off, judging by the scorch marks on the broken edges and the ugly red burn on the lower half of his face.

He could barely feel the pain. May it be from shock or because someone had given him painkillers he didn't know.

As for the rest of his body, he saw how the cloak was severely ripped and that his dark shirt and pants were covered in dust.

Thorn sighed,  knowing that cleaning all of that now was a bad idea. So he decided that, if he was already going to stay here for a while, he might as well gain some extra sleep.

Halfway to the bed, his eyes fell onto the Iron bars.

There was something small and shiny on them.

His interest set aflame, Thorn moved closer and saw that the glowing thingies were small engraved runes. Meant to hold for a long time and keep the prisoner inside the cell for as long as they were active.

However, he knew better than to touch them. As much as he hated symbolic magic and all of its different forms, he knew enough to know that the barrier that they projected could cause him quite a lot of problems.

So having sated his curiosity, he went back to bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Meanwhile, Orelio was having a very good day.

His arm was broken, he hadn't gotten any sleep and he was constantly worried about his comrades, who were still lying in the medic wing because of the incident.

Many of them had been buried under the rubble and gotten injured or nearly killed because of it.

But instead of resting, he now had to go and fetch one of those brain-fried idiots that had caused it in the first place.

So yeah, he was having an amazing day.

Of course, he knew that with him being a soldier who is enlisted in the Silfar security service, there were certain responsibilities that he had to fulfill.

But by the might of the golden tree, did he despise those "fetch the criminal and escort them around" duties that he was assigned to all the time.

They were so horrifically boring, always consisting of the same routine: Find the criminal, bring them to some random place, wait, escort them back to their cell, check the security system, do the paperwork and then repeat.

But hey, at least that was better than to be stuck at home and care for the golden tree like the rest of his people. He was sure that they enjoyed that quiet life, but that wasn't anything for him as he still had a lot to explore. One cannot be twenty-one forever.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he found that his feet had carried him all the way to the cell that he was supposed to find. Causing him to practically glow with pride if the small victory dance was anything to go by.

If only everything could work this perfectly.

At first glance, it would seem that everything was alright, no broken furniture, no strange stains, only a sleeping figure on the bed-like cot.

Shrugging, Orelio reached for the panel near the door, removed his glove and placed his hand onto it. 

It activated, scanned his hand and beeped, showing the corresponding glyph that kept the other runes on the bars glowing.

Swiftly deactivating it, he entered the cell and approached the prisoner.  Proceeding to gently shake their shoulder and wait for them to wake up.

The figure groaned quietly, stretching their back and turning to look at him from their position.

Once he confirmed that he had their full attention, as well as he could with that silly goofy mask covering their face, he straightened his posture and began to speak.

"I have been sent to turn you in for the Interrogation. Please do not resist or cause any kind of problem, or I will be forced to make your stay uncomfortable."

The Prisoner simply nodded, not showing any real reaction towards him or his words. He could live with that, after all, it was easy to assume that he was no threat simply because he was injured.

Grabbing their arms as best as he could, Orelio restrained them with power-canceling handcuffs and began to guide them through the halls, but not before reactivating the barrier. Just to be safe.

The walk was mostly silent, though he did find out that the prisoner was male. At least he wouldn't have to worry about misgendering anyone.

After a while they reached a big vault door, that served as the final barrier between the cells and the actual prison.

He repeated the process that he did with the panel near the cell and watched, as rows upon rows of protection and binding runes stopped their eternal rotation around the door. Seizing to glow and thus granting him access to the outside.

Even though Orelio liked to deny it with his whole heart, he was always observing the suspects that he had to escort.

Their reactions to the most simplest things, often said a lot about their life or where they came from. It was fascinating and also a very useful skill to acquire in this line of work.

Also, he was bored most of the time so why not.

"Impressive isn't it?"

"Yeah… it sure is."

He smiled at the other's awed words. It was nice to hear such genuine wonder and curiosity in somebody's voice. Even though he had not expected him to talk so soon.

From what he could tell, the individual next to him was not a big fan of symbolic work but was still fascinated by the craftsmanship around him. Probably a hobby tinker or blacksmith.

Sadly, a cold shiver reminded him that he still had his duties to fulfill and if he continued to lose time, a certain someone would have his head.

Startling the prisoner out of his wonder by grabbing his arm, he swung the vault door open and stepped outside, the russet brown male following him although a bit forced.

The main area of the rotunda-like prison was a sight to behold.

About twenty stories tall, it was coated in shiny metals that were colored golden and bronze. So much different from the silver-white city outside.

It had several plants hanging from the support pillars and a large glass dome at the top, which collected sunlight to warm the prison on cold nights.

At the center of the glass dome was a special plant that was always closed and its roots had spread all across the roof.

No one but the ones with higher authority knew what exactly it was but since it never did anything no one bothered to find out. Though it caused several amusing rumors and theories among the rookies.

The prison also had ten separate floors on which the prisoners were put into their cells. The worse the crime, the lower the level would be.

But to be honest, the prison wasn't even exactly a prison and more so a place for people to stay, until their authorities could figure out what to do with them or how to punish them.

Glancing to the side, Orelio amused himself with the awestruck body language that his companion showed, remembering fondly that he had reacted the same way when he was younger.

He took great pride in the fact that this prison was made to be as humane as possible, with normal rooms, normal food, outside activities, rehabilitation lessons for those that sought help, as well as therapy and medical attention.

And medical attention he would need, when his Captain was finished with him.

Mentally slapping himself for getting distracted once again, he quickly guided the prisoner towards the edge of the floor, and onto a platform with a portal glyph burned into it.

Placing his foot onto the glyph, he felt how it connected to his energy and watched as the portal opened itself.

At first it was pale white, like a freshly cleaned porcelain plate before he leaned forward and whispered his destination into the portal.

For a split second, it showed the place for him to confirm that that was where he was headed to, before the image dissolved and left behind those swirling colors that everyone was familiar with. 

With that done, he turned towards the prisoner, only to see that he was frozen in place. His masked face staring in the direction of the portal and lacking the childish enthusiasm that he had seen beforehand.

Confused, Orelio tried to shake him and talk him out of his stupor but nothing helped.

He was most likely experiencing shock.

Maybe from the portal.

He himself had gotten lucky enough last night, to land under another soldier instead of seeing what had actually exploded.

Though, considering the prisoner's reaction, he concluded that this must've been what happened.

…Well as much as it pained him, he can't do anything about it now.

Sighing deeply, he grabbed the tattered cloak that belonged to the other and ripped away a long stripe of fabric.

Guessing that the mask was most likely see-through, he blindfolded the man with the stripe and carefully guided him through the portal.

Treating him like the scared animal, that he probably even was. Or at least that's what his instincts told him.

Once they had passed through that dizzying mess, he found himself in front of the Interrogation chamber. Shivering slightly as he felt the rage pooling from the door.

He was late.

Fuck.

Closing the portal, he untied the blindfold from the prisoner and quickly opened the door.

Narrowly dodging the flying object, that he swore moved at light speed, and watched as it shattered on the floor.

It was the Captain's favorite mug.

Feeling a fuming presence behind him, the golden-brown soldier turned around, shivering like a leaf when he met the void-like eyes of his Captain.

Nearly whimpering at his next words.

"Well well well, look who we have here. The one and only Orelio Cyntris, whom I have specifically told to not be late?"

"Uh- Uhm- I'm very sorry I can explain!"

"Well, that should be a damn good explanation then, because as far as I know, a broken arm doesn't make you slower."

And that was when he knew.

He fucked up.