The prison canteen was a vast, echoing chamber filled with the clatter of metal trays and the low murmur of desperate voices. The air hung thick with the smell of recycled nutrient paste and something vaguely metallic.
Adam, Harry, Panchenko, and Jones sat at a worn table, their trays holding meager portions of the unappetizing "prison food." Despite its blandness, after the ordeal in the Darkling Woods, anything remotely edible felt like a feast.
"Honestly," Panchenko said, poking at his paste with a spoon, "I'd rather eat another Nightmare Treant. At least they put up a fight, unlike this culinary abomination."
Harry grimaced. "At least it's… sustenance. We'll need it for tomorrow."
"Exactly," Adam said, pushing his tray aside. The adrenaline from the fight had worn off, leaving a profound weariness, but his mind was already turning to strategy. "We need a plan. The monsters aren't mindless. They react. They have weaknesses."
Jones nodded, chewing slowly. "True. That treant was tough, but slow. We found its soft spots eventually."
"And those glowing nodes Panchenko pointed out," Adam added, looking at his witty cellmate.
"Ah, yes! My keen eye for vulnerable glowing bits," Panchenko preened. "A gift, really."
As they discussed tactics, a hush fell over a section of the canteen. All eyes turned to a man who strode confidently past, his red hair a vibrant splash of color in the dull prison. His ruby eyes seemed to cut through the gloom, and his handsome features were etched with a quiet intensity. He carried a single, sleek blade at his hip, even in the canteen.
"That's Julian," Harry whispered, his voice tinged with awe. "They say he's the strongest in Level One. He barely breaks a sweat in the woods."
Julian glanced their way, his eyes briefly meeting Adam's before he continued on. Adam felt a jolt of recognition; this man radiated power, a silent challenge.
A moment later, another inmate, Tom, slid into the seat opposite them. He was skinny, wore wire-rimmed glasses, and had a face peppered with freckles. His black hair and eyes gave him a sharp, intelligent look.
"Mind if I join?" Tom asked, his voice soft but clear. "I overheard you talking about the Darkling Woods. You four put up a good fight today, especially against that Treant. Not many groups survive their first day against one of those."
Panchenko waved a hand. "Pull up a chair, knowledge-seeker! Always good to have an expert at the table. You seem to know a lot about those overgrown twigs."
Tom chuckled. "I've been here a while. And I make it my business to learn. Every monster has its tells, its patterns. The Treants, for instance, are vulnerable to piercing attacks at their root nodes after they've just rooted themselves for a charge. And their glowing cores? That's where their life-force is concentrated. A good hit there, and they go down fast."
Adam leaned forward, intrigued. "Any other advice?"
"Always aim for the eyes, or whatever passes for eyes, on anything that moves fast," Tom advised. "And if it's blind, go for sound. The Scuttle-Beasts, for example, are blind, but they hunt by echolocation. Move silently, or make a diversion."
They spent the next hour absorbing Tom's encyclopedic knowledge of the Darkling Woods' inhabitants. He spoke of Gloom-Hounds that hunted in packs, of Shadow-Crawlers that camouflaged themselves against the bark, and of the best strategies to evade or engage them.
Finally, as the canteen began to empty, Tom lowered his voice. "There's another reason I came over. I heard about what you did, Adam. Killing a demon. That takes guts. And it tells me you might be the kind of person who understands…" He paused, glancing around nervously. "…that there might be a way out of here."
Adam's head snapped up. Harry gasped, and even Jones leaned in.
"Escape?" Jones scoffed softly. "Tom, this is Kazakhar. No one escapes Kazakhar."
"Not through the front gate, no," Tom admitted. "But there's another way. A risky way. A nigh-impossible way, without the right leverage. It involves Edward Bloodrose."
Panchenko whistled. "The Vampire Lord? Are you mad, Tom? They say he's been crucified in Level Six, starved to death for centuries."
"They say a lot of things," Tom replied, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. "But I've done my research. Whispers among the older inmates, the ones who've seen things. Edward Bloodrose was the most dangerous being ever imprisoned here. They say if he were freed, he could kill every demon guard without breaking a sweat. That's why they put him in a special, hidden Level Six, beyond Eternal Darkness. Not to kill him quickly, but to break him, to make an example."
Adam felt a cold tremor, not of fear, but of a calculated resolve. A demon-killer. The strongest on Level One. A monster expert. And a Vampire Lord rumored to be able to annihilate demons. A path of vengeance was forming, a dangerous, impossible path.
"So, you're saying… we have to go to Level Six?" Harry stammered, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "And… rescue him?"
Tom nodded. "It's the only way. To escape this place, truly escape, we need him. He's the key. But getting to Level Six, past the Eternal Darkness, past the most dangerous monsters and the most unforgiving terrain… and then freeing a crucified vampire lord… it's a suicide mission, unless you're prepared to pay the ultimate price."
Adam looked at his cellmates, then back at Tom. The vengeance he sought against the demons would require impossible strength, impossible allies. And here, in the heart of their greatest prison, an answer might lie.
"Tell us everything, Tom," Adam said, his voice low and unwavering. "About Edward Bloodrose. About Level Six. About how we get there."