The prisoners walked through an empty hall, led by the lithe form of a little girl.

The hall led towards a grand ancient stairway which they could use to access the main chambers which the veil people lived.

The prisoners were cautious as the inhabitants of the veil were the ones who subdued and bound them into the confines of the prisons the dwelled, they were not pushovers. 

As the stranger, now inhabiting the girl's body, led the prisoners through the grand hall of the dungeon, a sense of anticipation crackled in the air. The prisoners, their faces twisted with a mixture of desperation and defiance, followed eagerly behind, their footsteps echoing off the towering stone walls.

At the end of the hall loomed a grand ancient stairway, its steps worn smooth by centuries of use. The stranger ascended the stairs with purpose, their every movement imbued with a newfound confidence that belied their diminutive stature.

Reaching the top of the stairway, the stranger pushed open the heavy wooden doors, revealing the living quarters of the outcasts who practically owned the veil. The room was bathed in flickering candlelight, casting long shadows across the faces of those gathered within.

As the prisoners filed into the room, a murmur of disbelief rippled through the crowd. Here they were, following the lead of a small girl who had seemingly emerged out of nowhere, their fate now in her hands.

But not all were willing to submit to the stranger's authority. One prisoner, a burly man with a scarred face and a look of defiance in his eyes, stepped forward, his voice booming through the room.

"Who do you think you are, leading us like sheep to slaughter?" he bellowed, his fists clenched at his sides. "We will not bow to the whims of a mere child!"

The stranger, undeterred by the man's challenge, met his gaze with a steely determination. "I may be young, but I possess a power greater than you can imagine," they declared, their voice ringing with authority. "And if you wish to challenge me, then so be it. But know that I will not hesitate to defend myself and those who stand with me."

The room fell silent, the tension thick in the air as the other prisoners watched the confrontation unfold. In that moment, the fate of the revolt hung in the balance, the outcome uncertain.

But as the seconds ticked by, the burly man's resolve wavered, his gaze faltering under the stranger's unwavering stare. With a reluctant nod, he stepped back, conceding defeat for now.

And as the stranger continued to lead the prisoners onward, their confidence bolstered by this small victory, they knew that the path ahead would not be easy. But with each step they took, they moved one step closer to freedom, determined to seize their destiny and reclaim their place in the world beyond the veil.

As they approached the stairway, one of them aggressively punted them. 

The man led through but stopped when he noticed nobody following him.

"Have you all lost your f**cking minds, or are you lot afraid of meagre outcasts?". The man concluded with a boisterous laughter.

"P**sies, that's what you are". He finished with a scowl.

"We ain't afraid of nothing Rurik, but who made you leader of any of us" one prisoner pointed out.

The former inmates all nodded in agreement as they started bickering amongst themselves which soon turned to a scuffle that led to a fight.

All manners of abilities and skills were unleashed, as the prison turned into a blood bath.

Whilst on a staircase, Rurik sat down and held his face in disappointment and shame of his fellow prisoners, who were now killing each other like chickens in front of him.

He looked up to see the prisoner who had spoke against him, anger crawled into his face, he stood quickly as they both faced each other.

The man was lanky, pale and had sunken eyes, his hair was styled in a ponytail, his expressionless face broke into a grin showing his jagged and rugged teeth.

The two stared each other down for a while, chaos raging all around them, but not a single effect of the battle had touched them.

"So you're the one doing all this, You use some sort of aether mind control, aren't you... outcast". Rurik retorted.

As soon as he did the pale skin on the lanky man faded into blue.

" You are the strongest here, I'm going to enjoy killing you". The now blue man revealed as he snatched a glaive out of the air.

The lanky blue man took a stance. 

Rurik, the burly bald warrior with a white beard, watched his opponent, the lanky man wielding a glaive. The air crackled with tension as the two combatants faced each other, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills.

Rurik flexed his massive fists, the muscles in his arms bulging with raw power. With a roar, he charged forward, his footsteps shaking the ground beneath him. But the lanky man was quick on his feet, darting to the side with a graceful agility that belied his slender frame.

As Rurik swung his fist with the force of a battering ram, the lanky man danced out of reach, his glaive flashing in the sunlight as he launched a swift counterattack. With a deft flick of his wrist, he aimed for Rurik's exposed flank, seeking to exploit any weakness in his opponent's defenses.

But Rurik was no novice in the art of combat. With a grunt of exertion, he brought his massive arms up to deflect the blow, his earth affinity lending him an uncanny sense of balance and stability. With each strike, he sought to wear down his opponent's defenses, his fists pounding like thunder against the earth.

The lanky blue man, however, was not one to be underestimated. With a sly grin, he feinted to the left before launching himself into a sudden somersault, his glaive arcing through the air with deadly precision. Rurik barely had time to react as the blade sliced through the air, grazing his cheek with a shallow cut.

Enraged, Rurik roared in defiance, his earth affinity surging to life as he unleashed a torrent of power. With a mighty stomp, he sent shockwaves rippling through the ground, causing the very earth to quake beneath their feet. The lanky man stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden display of strength.

Seizing the opportunity, Rurik charged forward once more, his fists a blur as he unleashed a flurry of blows. The lanky man danced and weaved, his glaive flashing in the sunlight as he fought to keep his opponent at bay. But try as he might, he could not match Rurik's sheer brute force.

With a final, thunderous punch, Rurik sent his opponent crashing to the ground, defeated but not broken.

Rurik, fueled by determination to finish the job, closed in on his opponent, his fists clenched and his muscles taut with anticipation. But as he neared, his gaze locked onto something unexpected, the lanky man's hand, holding aloft a small necklace, its intricate design glinting in the sunlight. 

With a sinking feeling of dread, Rurik felt his neck realizing the missing charm.

 The said charm, was supposed to stop mind and foreign attacks from affecting him. Fear gnawed at his insides as he watched the lanky man's grin widen, a silent acknowledgment of his victory.

Suddenly, Rurik's mind was assaulted by a malevolent force, an order so compelling it threatened to overwhelm his senses. It was an order to kill himself—a command born of the lanky man's cunning and mastery over the mystical form of aether.

Horror washed over Rurik as he struggled against the invasive thoughts, his mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. He fought to maintain control, to resist the compulsion that threatened to consume him from within. But the power of the charm was too great, its influence too potent to be denied.

With a strangled cry of anguish, Rurik fell to his knees, his hands clutching at his head as he battled against the relentless onslaught. In that moment of vulnerability, he knew that he had been outmaneuvered, his defeat sealed by the lanky man's cunning and resourcefulness.

As darkness closed in around him, Rurik's last thoughts were of defeat and regret, a flash of a young dark girl with black pigtails flashed in his mind as he screamed.

A bitter reminder of the consequences of underestimating one's opponent. And as he stood and grabbed his own head twisting it at an unnatural angle, his consciousness slowly slipped away.

As he fell and died.