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Their only funder - a mysterious man known as MG, - arrived the night before the scheduled meeting.
He should have seen it miles away, he should.
In the dead of the night, the sound of a chopper cut through the air like warning screeches. The piercing noise shook him out of his exhausted daze, whisking away the sleepy mist as it dawned on him.
Their only funder, more like the sole owner of the prison, had arrived.
Solev hurriedly ordered his elite team to escort the funder to the tower while he did his best to make himself presentable.
Giving his armor a quick shine, cleaning up the remnants of the schedules for tomorrow, kindling the flickering candles- All he could get done before a blip from his communicator caught his attention.
Goldrush40 was slain by Triogami.
No one was supposed to be out of their cell; Triogami is a part of the elite force that he sent to greet the funder. Which could only mean…
He let out a frustrated sigh, fingers threading through his hair.
The heavy footsteps of guards announced the arrival of their guest. Solev hastily fixed his hair.
With one last sweeping look at his office, his attention snapped back to their VIP.
He felt his breath caught in his throat as light bounced off of the crimson glints on the guard’s armor; even more when they parted and revealed MG. A few dents and splotches of blood stained his lustrous chestplate, his suit a little crumpled; in his hands he was busy wiping off a bloody dagger.
The warden watched tensely, feeling the shadows on the walls stretch on with the suffocating silence. The flickering candlelight grew harsher, cold and burning like the calculated gaze of their guest.
At last, MG put away the bloodied handkerchief in his inventory, examining before deeming it to be a perfectly unblemished blade. It disappeared with a swift flick of his wrist.
“It’s good to see that you’re holding up well, Warden Solev.” MG hummed. There was little emotion in his words, only distant indifference.
“As you are,” Solev gave a little bow. “A pleasure to have you here, sir.”
“Hmph,” Sharp gray eyes scrutinized him, Solev could feel it; picking him apart, piece by piece and analyzing him like some kind of specimen.
“Pardon my intrusion sir,” He cleared his throat. “And our lack of a proper welcome. You’ve arrive unannounced-”
“I thought I made it clear in my request.”
“Yes- But, we were not expecting you tonight,” MG folded his arms behind his back. “I thought you’d arrive tomorrow morning, sir.”
His lips quirked amusingly, monocles shining in the warm glow.
“As the host of such event, I must make sure that everything’s in order, mustn't I?” MG grinned, staring at the warden. “Just to check that nothing goes wrong.”
“No offense, really,” He added quickly. “I don’t doubt your leadership, nor do I doubt your capabilities as the warden.”
“The rest of you, leave .” The order was devoid of any previous amusement, cutting and demanding immediate action.
Solev watched the guards shuffle out of the room with a crescendoing sense of apprehension blooming in his chest.
As the last footsteps of the guards faded away into the night, MG turned and spoke.
“It’s been rough the last 2 months, isn’t it?” A simple, unassuming question that Solev found he couldn’t bring himself to answer.
“Yes, it has.” He finally gritted out. “After the death of our previous warden, the tension and distrust has multiplied tenfold within the ranks.”
“And I assume you’ve taken care of it?” Solev blinked the sleep from his eyes.
“Yes, sir. I’ve done everything I can to restore faith and order.” And that everything meant breaking the moral code he’s abide by, forcing the prisoners to help with the depleting supplies, and pulling nights after nights just to catch up on the paperworks of all the shits that went down the previous day, and repeat.
MG narrowed his eyes. “What do you do with prisoners out of their cell after curfew then?”
“They will be executed upon sight, sir.”
“Found with contrabands in possession?”
“Contrabands are confiscated and stored safely away. Their cells as well as adjacent and allied cells will all be searched thoroughly for any more contrabands. The prisoner is then questioned and placed under prison watch list for suspicious behaviors.”
“Very rational and attentive of you, Warden Solev.” The praise was accompanied by a small smile.
Solev breathed out, feeling the tension whisked away.
“But you know what happened?” The smile dropped; in its place was a disdainful glare that froze his blood to the core.
“A prisoner, out of their cell after curfew, armed with a dangerous contraband - an iron one nontheless, - and attempted to assassinate me,” MG is bristling at this point, his body tense and rigid, scowling darkly at the warden. “Unacceptable, totally, utterly unacceptable. And here I thought, you thought you had it under control, Solev.”
Ouch. Solev winced at the cutting remark, feeling each word chip at his wounded pride.
“My deepest apologies sir, it’s just, we weren’t expecting you-”
“Save it,” The bitterness in his voice receded, replaced with indifference. “Tomorrow is your chance to prove yourself, Solev.”
Tomorrow. The game, the killing, the complete bloodshed that he’s forced to allow just to entertain one man.
“Don’t forget who I am. I own this facility. You need me to support this facility. Without me, you are
nothing
.”
Anger bubbled in response to the biting remark, threatening to explode yet he held it in.
Solev knew that MG isn’t all bark no bite; he’s cruel, calculating, and remorseless. MG does not care for other’s lives as long as he can get something out of it, anything.
MG is right. Solev needed him to run this prison, to keep the prisoners in check.
…
But what is a prison without prisoners? What is there to contain and, rehabilitate when there’s not a single ounce of trust between the guards and the prisoners? What is there to work for when there’s nothing in the end?
Solev tried to be a good warden, he tried. He admits that the torture chambers were last ditch efforts to put an end to the violence withiing, but it only worsened the problem. Like an infection, it spread and spread, the paranoia and distrust tainting everyone in the complex. And it soon spread to the funders, who began pulling out one by one.
All except for MG who kept going.
All of this, fueled by MG and his desires.
All of this, because of him.
All of the lives that would be lost tomorrow-
The warden made up his mind.
“I hope you’ve prepared tomorrow’s event accordingly, warden.” MG hummed.
“Yes, I have, sir.”
Things quickly went to shit in no time.
Some of the guards defected and began chanting ‘rehabilitation over punishment’ as they stood with the prisoners. The jungle and desert team stormed the cafeteria alongside the defectors, taking out guards after guards after guards.
“What are you standing there for?!” MG snarled at the elite team. “Get down there and do SOMETHING!”
The elite team rushed down immediately, blades drawn and shields up. All except for Solev.
“And you,” He stalked towards him. “You said you had it under control, Solev.”
“I do, sir. The elite team will handle this in no ti-”
BOOM!
They rushed to the balcony, looking down at the remains of the east wall as men poured in from the breach, armed to the teeth with enchanted netherite gears.
“What is the meaning of this?!” MG was shaking with fury, or was it fear? Solev didn’t care anymore as he walked closer to the platform edge, ignoring the consecutive blips of death messages coming from his communicator.
Swords and armors flashed under the sunlight as rioters and defectors alike built up towers, building up to them.
“They can’t get up here, right?”
Solev didn’t respond, only staring at the approaching figures.
“Right??” Fear and panic clung to his voice, hysteria gripping the usually cold and calculating man.
Solev only felt satisfaction seeing the rotten insides spill out of him. The cowardice that seeped out of the cracks of MG’s former shell. He was content that the wicked man is finally rendered powerless, facing his end by his own hands-
“I’ll kill you!” He rushed towards the warden, intending to push him off the edge yet Solev’s reflexes were faster. He stepped out of the way, dodging the shove that would have sent him off the edge but the blade-
The cold metal dug into his skin, leaving a painful trail of torn skin and flesh.
Solev drew his sword in one smooth motion and slashed at MG, knocking him off the edge.
The man fell off the tower with a manic laughter as the warden collapsed onto his knees.
Solev gripped the torn wound, almost pulling away at the burning pain. Blood seeped through his fingers, splattering his hand and staining his arm crimson.
The pain is blinding, excruciatingly so.
Damned bastard must’ve opened a vein or something - he could feel it. The cut is deep into his flesh, a gash that ran from his left shoulder down his collar.
He felt lightheaded, no doubt from the blood loss. It clouded his head, his eyes, his senses.
His arms collapsed as he slumped to the floor, convulsing in pain.
Tears blurred his eyes.
Is this it then? Is this truly it?
Last he heard was heavy footsteps, meaningless shouting, and it all faded to black when-
Someone rolled him around carelessly and shoved some sickly, honey-like liquid down his throat.
The flesh stitched itself back, aided by the potion. White pain shot through him again as the wound on his neck closed up.
When the pain dulled to a splitting headache, he felt a cold blade to his neck.
“Up,” Someone demanded. “We’ll interrogate him later.”
Then he was promptly knocked out.