Mynistria.
The name alone seemed to drain the remaining hope from the air.
For a moment, nobody spoke, the quiet but unexplainable sounds of the prison continued around them.
The constant murmur of thousands of people who had accepted that this was their life.
Shirley stared at the ground. Mynistria.
He had heard the name before. Not like this, not from the inside.
He had always imagined the Seven Kingdoms as something distant. A name attached to laws, governments, and people he would probably never meet.
But this…this wasn't a kingdom.
It was a graveyard where people were forced to keep breathing.
His fingers curled into fists. The glass from the floor was gone.
The pain was gone.
But the feeling remained, that same feeling. The one he hated more than anything.
Weakness.
"We lost," the words escaped before he could stop them.
Everyone looked at him.
Shirley didn't notice. His eyes stayed fixed on the floor, "August won." His voice became quieter, "I thought if we reached him… if we just got close enough…"
His hand trembled, "I thought I could do something."
Nobody interrupted.
Because they all knew. They had thought the same thing.
Michonne leaned against the wall, her expression unreadable.
But Shirley noticed.
The way her eyes moved, the way she studied every corner of the prison. The guards, the prisoners, the exits that weren't exits.
She wasn't giving up. She was calculating, "We don't have time for that."
Shirley looked up.
Michonne's voice was low, "Right now, blaming ourselves changes nothing."
She glanced around the cell, "We need information." Her eyes narrowed, "This isn't a normal prison."
Tucker looked around.
The hundreds of faces staring back at them, the packed cell, the impossible height of the walls.
"The guards don't act like they're watching prisoners." Everyone looked at him. Tucker continued slowly, "They act like they're watching… workers."
The word hung in the air.
EBS's expression changed slightly.
She looked at the words printed across Tucker's shirt.
"RADI I UMRI."
"Work and die."
EBS whispered the translation. Everyone turned toward her.
She looked down, "I… I looked it up before."
Her fingers tightened around her sleeve, "When I was still streaming." A bitter laugh escaped her.
"Funny, right?"
Nobody answered, "I used to spend hours looking up useless things."
Her eyes moved around the prison, "And now I wish I had looked up something that mattered."
Silence.
A sudden sound interrupted them, a prisoner nearby slammed against the wall.
"Move."
The voice was rough. Everyone turned.
A large tan shirtless man stood in front of them. Dirty, dust and mud all over him. His body was covered in scars. Not from one fight, from years. Years of service, fights, working.
His eyes moved between them. New faces, clean faces.
Faces that still looked like they belonged outside, "Y'all must be new."
Nobody answered. The man's eyes narrowed, "Didn't your masters teach you anything?"
Shirley stepped forward. Michonne immediately grabbed his shoulder.
Not hard. Just enough.
The man noticed. A small grin appeared, "Smart one."
He looked at Michonne, "Most newcomers don't last a day because they think this place is some kind of joke."
Shirley stared at him, "What is this place?"
The man's smile disappeared. For the first time, something like fear appeared in his eyes.
"You really don't know."
He looked around before lowering his voice, "This isn't where people are sent to be punished. This is where people are sent to disappear."
The prison seemed louder after those words.
Michonne's eyes sharpened, "Explain."
The man looked at her, "You outsiders really are clueless."
He glanced at Tucker. Then Shirley. Then EBS.
"Now, how did y'all end up here?"
Nobody answered.
The man chuckled, "Let me guess." His eyes landed on Shirley, "You fell for some sort of trap."
Shirley's expression changed. August.
The man saw the answer immediately, "Ah." His grin faded, "Someone powerful."
He stepped closer, "Then you're already dead."
Shirley's eyes narrowed, "What?"
The prisoner pointed upward. Beyond the endless floors. Beyond the darkness.
"Nobody leaves Mynistria." He looked back at them.
"Not because the walls are too strong. No, no, no. Because the people running this place ain't need no walls."
The words sank in, "They make sure you have nowhere to go."
The prison suddenly felt even smaller. Michonne looked toward the ceiling.
But even she had gone quiet. Because deep down…she knew he wasn't exaggerating.
The prisoner walked away.
Leaving them with the only thing worse than fear.
Understanding.
They weren't trapped inside a prison. They were inside a machine.
And Mynistria was built to keep the machine running.
The group fell silent.
The prison never did.
Chains scraped across the concrete. Prisoners whispered to one another. Somewhere in the distance, someone screamed, only for the sound to be swallowed by the endless walls.
Michonne's eyes continued roaming across the overcrowded cell.
She wasn't looking at faces, she was looking for allies. "…Diamond isn't here," she murmured.
Her gaze shifted farther across the sea of prisoners.
Then she froze, "…Wait." Her eyes narrowed, "Is that… Long-Brow-CH2?"
She hadn't meant to say it out loud.
Tucker's head snapped toward where she was looking.
His stomach dropped.
Memories of the Ascension Gala flooded back.
Blue Suits. Running through the crowded Entertainment District.
Tucker quickly looked away, "Please don't let him see me…" he thought.
Michonne caught the movement immediately, "What's wrong with you?"
"…Nothing."
She stared at him, "…You're sweating."
Tucker wiped his forehead almost instinctively, "I-It's hot in here."
Michonne folded her arms, "You're a terrible liar."
A brief pause, "…What happened between you two?"
Tucker let out a defeated sigh, "…Let's just say…the Ascension Gala didn't end well for either of us."
Shirley looked over with an unimpressed expression, "So that's what all that shouting was."
He shook his head, "Classic Tucker. How'd you even manage that?"
Tucker scratched the back of his head. "…Long story."
"I heard his bounty's sixteen million." Everyone looked toward EBS.
She quickly shrank beneath their stares, "…What? I just… heard people talking about him."
Before anyone could answer, the conversations around them began to shift.
Prisoners slowly stepped aside.
Not out of respect. Out of instinct.
A narrow path opened through the packed cell.
Two figures walked through it.
Long-Brow-CH2.
And a single Blue Suit.
Both wore the same thin prison uniform as everyone else, but neither carried themselves like prisoners.
CH2's impossibly long eyebrows brushed against people as he walked.
Several inmates glared at him. None dared say a word.
Tucker quietly took half a step behind EBS, "…Too late."
CH2 had already spotted him.
The two stopped only a few feet away. The Blue Suit leaned toward CH2 and gave a small nod.
CH2 let out a dry chuckle, "So…" His eyes locked onto Tucker, "…You're the little brat that made my life miserable."
Tucker forced a smile, "…Hi?"
Without warning, CH2 reached toward him.
Michonne intercepted his wrist before he could touch him.
Her grip didn't budge, "Drop it."
CH2 slowly turned his head. Recognition flickered across his face, "…The Silent Blade."
A grin spread across his lips, "So they threw you in here too."
He casually pulled his arm free, "I'll admit…" He glanced back at Tucker, "This runt did quite a number on my reputation."
Tucker frowned, "You chased me!"
"I chased you because you humiliated me!" CH2 barked, "You mocked my eyebrows in front of hundreds of people!"
Several nearby prisoners glanced over. One hissed for them to keep it down.
Michonne lowered her voice, "Leave."
CH2 ignored her. His eyes never left Tucker, "You should be thanking her."
He tilted his head toward Michonne, "She's the only reason you're still standing."
He took a slow step backward, "But she won't be standing beside you forever."
A cruel smile crept across his face, "You hear that bell tonight…Fight Night."
His finger pointed directly at Tucker, "I'll be waiting." He paused, "Unless you'd rather send your bodyguard."
Michonne's expression never changed, "I'd be more than enough."
CH2 laughed, "I know. That's why I'm hoping the kid's stupid enough to accept."
With one final smirk, he turned away.
The Blue Suit followed close behind as the crowd swallowed them once again.
Silence lingered.
Then Tucker slowly looked at the others. "…What's Fight Night?"
Shirley let out a long sigh, "I think a better question is…" He looked directly at Tucker, "What did you do to make that guy hate you this much?"
Tucker shrugged, "…I said he had really long eyebrows."
A beat.
"…Infront of a bunch of people."
EBS buried her face in her hands, "Tucker…"
"I didn't know he was sensitive!"
Michonne pinched the bridge of her nose, "…Unbelievable. You won't be fighting him."
Tucker blinked, "I won't?"
"If anyone's stepping into that ring…" She cracked her knuckles, "…It's me."
EBS looked relieved, "You think you can beat him?"
Michonne gave a small shrug, "He's a two-pump chump."
The group stared at her.
"…"
"…"
EBS slowly turned her head, "…Excuse me?"
Tucker looked even more confused, "…What's that mean?"
Michonne froze. Her eyes widened, "…No."
She pointed between the two of them, "No. Don't."
Realization spread across her face, "…That's not what I meant."
She rubbed her forehead.
"He channels enormous amounts of Strength Presence into his arms before throwing a punch. The punches are devastating…but after two of them…"
She wiggled her fingers, "His arms are useless. They're basically noodles."
A pause, "I was talking about fighting."
She narrowed her eyes at everyone, "You're the weird ones."
For the first time since arriving in Mynistria, a tiny laugh escaped Shirley. It lasted only a second.
Then his expression hardened again, "…First August, now Fight Night."
He looked around the prison, "We're not surviving this place if we keep walking in blind."
He glanced at the others.
"We need to figure out how this prison works…before it figures us out."
The group nodded.
Together, they disappeared deeper into the sea of prisoners, leaving the familiar faces from the Ascension Gala behind.