"I am the Warden, Draven Ciaran." His metallic boots clicked sharply on the stone floor. He spoke and moved so elegantly that it was hard to believe he was the brutal warden of this terrifying prison.

Clean black garments covered every part of his body.  Heavy black gloves and a black undershirt prevented any skin from being revealed. Even the visor for his sight had a smooth dark glass hiding his eyes. The three horns that extended out of his helmet were simple yet unsettling.

"You must be the new prisoners." Draven approached the three boys. Oscar and Austin stayed put while Samuel retreated slightly.

"Here are their records, Warden." The guard respectfully handed over a scroll and swiftly departed, not wanting to remain.

The Warden was silent as he read their sentences and the crimes on the scroll. He hummed while doing so, giving off a feeling of insanity. "Hmm?" Draven paused after reading Oscar's report. He glanced at the young boy, who stiffened in fear.

Suddenly, Oscar could hear the loud gnashing of teeth. It was coming from the Warden, who dropped all manners and elegance. He seemed more like a raging beast that was ready to kill anyone.

"Who dares to mess with my prison?!" His words echoed through the halls and made Oscar and the others shudder. They did not dare move a single inch for fear of the consequences. Draven stomped his foot on the floor, breaking it. Pieces of rock shattered all over as wide cracks spread from the imprint of his foot.

Oscar had fallen flat on his rear from the shockwave. He could not help but grimace at his helplessness as the chains were quite heavy, so he could not get back up. From his peripheral, he saw a dark gloved hand extend toward him to help, which he accepted, and the hand tugged and pulled him back up with little effort despite the weight he carried.

"Thank yo—" Oscar did not finish his sentence but stared like a dead fish after realizing it was the Warden who helped him.

"It's no problem." Draven sounded leveled and calm; his previous outburst of anger seemed to be a lie. If it were not for all the cracks on the floor, Oscar would have thought he had imagined things earlier.

With a clap of Draven's hands, more figures came out toward Oscar and the others; they were dressed like Draven except for the horns on their helmets. These were the prison guards with many stories and rumors about them. The main topic was how they enjoyed torturing prisoners and reveling in flayed skin were the main topic.

"Samuel, you shall be in Cell Block D. Austin will go to Cell Block B. Oscar will be sent to Cell Block A. But before you are all sent off, I must inform you about the Abyss Prison."

The trio straightened their backs.

"First, you will never be let out of your cells unless allowed. Second, perish any thoughts of escape. The entire prison restricts the use of Ein and your Exalt powers. Even if you could escape, you'll only be food for the creatures outside."

Oscar thought of the creature with the big pale eye that watched them from the darkness. Only an idiot would try to escape right into its territory.

"Third, you will listen to all our orders. You won't suffer too much if you are not rebellious." Draven waved his finger in a scolding manner. His tone did not match the threat in his words. The guards separated the three boys and dragged them into separate corridors as Draven stared in Oscar's direction until they were out of sight.

"A week in Cell Block A. That isn't enough to be called a punishment. Whoever wanted him here has another purpose." Draven mumbled. He tapped his metal foot on the ground as he pondered.

"I suppose I'll just observe him for now." Draven turned to return to his office. After he left, the cracks on the floor began to repair themselves. After a short time, the floor had completely restored to its original state.

…….

Oscar struggled to calm himself down. He could hear echoes of screams and wails of pain as he traveled down the corridor. The guard opened a door and pushed him inside, and Oscar paled at what he saw.

Right in the center was some prisoners hung upside down. The source of the screaming came from them as some of the prison guards were torturing them. Their blood dripped down to the floor, creating a pool of blood. They barely looked human with those sunken eyes, and not a single spot on their skin was unmaimed.

"They are the ones who committed the most heinous crimes. Your punishment does not include this." The prison guard said.

Oscar glanced around and saw that the entire place had many cubed cells lined up and stacked on each other. Every single one was positioned to open towards the center of the torture.

"This is Cell Block A."

The prisoners within their cells noticed the prison guard with Oscar.

"A newcomer!"

"Kekeke, which cell is he going in?"

"I can't wait!"

The jeers and crazy shouts of the prisoners made the prison guards lose their tempers. One guard pulled a lever, and all the cells burst out electricity, shocking every inmate.

The air was already choked with the smell of blood and was invaded by a waft of charred flesh. The prisoners inside the cells groaned in pain before stabilizing themselves.

"We can't kill you because of your sentences, but we can still make you suffer." The prison guard spoke in a threatening tone. "We have to release you alive, but that doesn't mean we can't cut off one of your limbs."

The prisoners were now silent and shuddering in fear.

The prison guard brought solemn Oscar in front of one of the cells marked number 19. The cell doors opened, and Oscar entered inside. The rough handling of the guards knocked Oscar off balance. "Cell Number 19 will be your new home."

Oscar fell to the floor and could barely get himself up on one of the seats. His wrists, ankles, and neck were bleeding from being rattled by the bindings.

"Hey."

One of the prisoners in Cell 19 stood up to greet Oscar. "My name is John, and I've been here for three years." He was a hulking man with bulging muscles.

"My name is Oscar; pleased to meet you." Oscar knew that the people here were real criminals, unlike himself. Getting on their bad side was a horrible idea.

John smiled. But the next moment, he swung his arms and slammed them onto Oscar's head, knocking him off the seat.

Oscar crashed again to the floor with his ears ringing. His head started to bleed. John had used the metal cuffs to bash Oscar's head in. He stared at John, who was still grinning maniacally. "What was that for?"

But what he got in response was another blow that smacked Oscar onto the cell bars. His back cracked as he coughed up some blood.

John moved up to Oscar and grabbed Oscar's hair. Even though he carried around the weight of the handcuffs, John easily lifted Oscar off the floor.

Oscar strained to move his arms, but his body was already out of stamina from walking to the prison.

"Listen here; you're in our cell now. Who told you that seat was yours? Who said you could question me?" John's eyes looked playfully at Oscar's miserable appearance. It had been a while since a new toy came in. "You're in our cell now. So that means you follow our rules."

Oscar felt his hair tearing off his head. He weighed all options. The prison guard said there was no way they would allow him to die.

However, these prisoners may make suffer something worse. The goal was to get out of here after a week with the least amount of injuries; otherwise, he would fall farther behind in his Exalt training. Nodding his head, Oscar gave in to John's unreasonable attitude.

Satisfied with Oscar's subservient attitude, John let him go and returned to his seat. The other prisoners were minding their own business in their own space, ignoring what had happened.

Crawling to the front, Oscar propped himself against the cell bars. The seat was off-limits, so he could only endure the dirty floor. ''I swear in the future to never come back here.'

The screams of the tortured prisoners did not help to calm him down as Oscar became more agitated.

"Hey, Oscar." The prisoner closest to him hurried over from his seat. The man was quite old, but Oscar could see his well-toned muscles that were out of place for an elder.

"No need to be frightened. I won't beat you like that idiot, John. My name is Boris." The elder cheerfully laughed as though he wasn't even in prison. He made a toothless grin, unsettling Oscar, who nearly gagged. "How long is your sentence here?"

"I won't say." Oscar's eyes were firm, completely different from the earlier encounter with John.

This stupified Boris; his face was blank as if he had no idea how to react to this. Soon after, a wide, toothless smile took over. "Hehe, I thought you would have been an easy mark. It appears you're not daft. You're correct not to answer me."

His chains rattled as he got down from his seat and sat next to Oscar. Oscar wanted to move away, but he did not know if it would offend the old man.

"If we knew when you would get out of here. You can't imagine the things we do to those people. Rule of survival here, kid. Don't be an idiot."

After hearing those words, Oscar created some distance between himself and Boris. It was odd that a prisoner would be so friendly and polite, giving him advice.

"Seems you have the right idea. I'll be going back now." The old man returned to his seat with a creepy grin.

Feeling a wave of exhaustion, Oscar tried to keep himself awake. Sleeping would be like a rabbit entering a den of foxes. He glanced around the cell at the other prisoners.

He had no idea if they were truly asleep or waiting for an opportunity to bully him. Oscar huddled into a small ball, keeping his head close to his chest. To be as small as possible, not to catch anyone's eye.

He tried to focus on meditating but found not a single wisp of Ein as his core was wrapped in chains and dimming. His deer anima stared at Oscar's astral body. It was chained up along with the core and struggled to break out until Oscar patted it to stop.

Oscar despaired at the realization. He knew about the special properties of the prison, but he still clung to a small hope he could train while imprisoned. A week in here might be the difference that ruins his progress and sets him below his peers.

'I only have a Grade Four Exolsia. I can't afford any drawbacks.' Oscar strained himself to try to find any scrap of Ein. His brows wrinkled from the exertion until he could no longer hold on. His face was flushed red from stress.

Ein Meditation was supposed to be fueled by the intake of Ein, but with no Ein, there was just unnecessary strain. A numb feeling invaded his head, making him paler than ever.

He resigned himself to being idle with an irritated expression. His body shivered from the slight chill in the air. Oscar was too preoccupied to notice earlier that this prison was cold.

Moments later, Oscar was still struggling to stay awake, but five packages of rations dropped into the middle of the cell. Oscar got up to get his portion, his stomach grumbling since he was famished, yearning for sustenance. However, the other prisoners bolted for the food.

With the heavy chains, Oscar could not reach the food in time and saw the prisoners ravage the food like a pack of beasts. They would punch and kick each other. He tried to reach for the food but was met with a hard blow from Boris, who was still maniacally smiling.

"I forgot to mention this. It's every man for himself here. Don't think you can just waltz in and take food."

"Hahaha. I should thank you, newcomer. It's been a while since I've eaten this much." John bellowed in condescending laughter. The rations were small, so any bit more was pleasurable. He kicked Oscar so hard, sending him rolling away from the center.

Oscar spat out more blood. His eyes dimmed as he lost consciousness.