The group pushed deeper into the sea of prisoners.
Calling it walking would've been generous. There was barely enough room to move.
Bodies pressed together shoulder to shoulder. Every step meant squeezing between strangers whose sweat-soaked clothes clung to their skin. The suffocating heat trapped beneath the towering ceiling had long since turned the cell into a furnace.
"This is disgusting…" EBS muttered as she carefully slipped between two prisoners, apologizing under her breath after accidentally bumping into one.
Neither acknowledged her.
Shirley narrowly avoided being crushed as two larger inmates shifted toward each other.
The gap vanished almost instantly. "Move!"
He grabbed Tucker's wrist and yanked him through just before they were swallowed by the crowd.
Tucker stumbled forward. "…What's the point of this?"
He brushed sweat from his forehead. "Who are we even looking for?"
Michonne continued leading the way.
She never slowed. Never looked back, "We're looking for someone."
"You know who?" Tucker asked.
"I heard their voice." Her answer was calm, "They're in this cell."
Shirley exchanged a confused glance with Tucker.
"…And we're just supposed to wander until you magically find them?" Shirley asked.
He frowned. "You could at least tell us what they look like."
Michonne's eyes swept across the endless crowd, "I'll know them when I see them."
"…That's reassuring." EBS muttered.
Without warning, someone grabbed EBS's wrist.
She gasped. The grip tightened so violently that her skin immediately began turning red.
A woman stood inches away from her.
Her hair hung in tangled clumps. Thin scars covered both of her arms. Her cracked lips had split so badly dried blood stained the corners of her mouth. A faded tattoo wrapped around the side of her neck.
The woman stared directly into EBS's eyes. Never blinking. "…Hey."
Her voice was almost gentle. "…What's your name?"
EBS instinctively tried pulling away. "…L-Let go."
The woman's fingers tightened, "So…" She smiled, "…What's your name?"
"My…" Her expression suddenly twisted. "…I forgot."
A small laugh escaped her. "…Call me Tongue." She tilted her head.
"…Yeah…"
"…Tongue."
"Please let go!" EBS pulled harder.
Nothing. Her wrist wouldn't budge.
She grunted, trying to pry the woman's fingers away.
It was useless.
The surrounding prisoners immediately noticed.
People stopped talking. A loose circle formed around them. Whispers spread through the crowd.
"Tongue found another one."
"…Poor girl."
"She does this every time."
"I wonder how long before she snaps."
Shirley and Tucker immediately pushed through the gathering crowd.
Michonne followed close behind.
As soon as she stepped into the circle, the whispers changed.
"…The Silent Blade."
"No way…"
"That's really her."
"What's she doing here?"
"I thought she was dead."
Michonne ignored every voice. She walked straight toward Tongue.
Only then did Tongue finally glance away from EBS.
Michonne calmly reached down and wrapped her hand around Tongue's wrist.
She paused.
It felt…wrong.
The wrist was alarmingly thin. Nothing but skin stretched tightly over bone.
Yet beneath it, warmth. An unusual warmth. Almost feverish.
She could actually feel the woman's pulse racing against her fingertips.
For just a second, Michonne hesitated.
Tongue suddenly released EBS.
She stumbled backward before collapsing to both knees. "…The…"
Tongue's eyes widened. "…The Silent Blade… You're real."
The growing crowd fell completely silent.
Tongue looked as though she'd forgotten how to breathe.
Michonne folded her arms, "You could say I'm here on vacation."
A small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth, "I don't plan on extending my stay."
Tongue's eyes sparkled. EBS hurried back beside Shirley and Tucker, rubbing her aching wrist.
"You alright?" Tucker asked quietly.
She nodded, "…I think so."
Shirley's hand gently patted her on the back.
Then, Tongue suddenly threw herself forward. Michonne barely had time to react.
Tongue grabbed both of her feet. And kissed them. Again. And again.
Even the dried blood still clinging to Michonne's feet from the shattered glass didn't stop her.
"H-Hey!" Michonne instinctively tried stepping backward, "What are you doing?!"
"I've wanted to meet you for years!" Tongue practically shouted."I've seen every bounty poster! Every story! Every edit! Every slideshow! I protected your poster!"
Her words came faster and faster, "I wouldn't let anyone touch it! I kept it safe! You want to see it?!"
Michonne finally managed to pull her feet free. "…Okay."
She pointed firmly at Tongue.
"First… No more kissing my feet. That's weird."
Tongue immediately shot back to her feet, "…YES!"
She practically bounced with excitement before grabbing Michonne's hand, "Come!"
Without waiting for permission, she began dragging Michonne through the crowd.
Shirley, Tucker, and EBS looked at each other.
"…Did…" Tucker blinked. "…Did she say edits?"
Shirley sighed. "…I really hope not."
After weaving through what felt like an endless sea of prisoners, muttering apologies more times than any of them could count, the group finally reached the far corner of the cell.
Keeping up with Tongue proved nearly impossible.
She skipped through the crowd with an almost childlike excitement, occasionally looking back just to make sure Michonne was still following.
"Hurry! I wanna show you!"
Shirley nearly lost sight of her three separate times.
By the time they arrived, the crowd had vanished.
An unusual clearing surrounded the corner. Not because there wasn't room. Because nobody dared enter it.
Dead grasshoppers formed a rough circle around the area.
Across the wall, smeared in the crushed remains of some unfortunate insect, were two shaky words.
"KEEP OUT."
"…Well…" Tucker scratched the back of his head. "That's comforting."
Tongue proudly threw her arms open, "Home!"
The four slowly stepped inside. Then they looked up.
Silence.
The walls, were covered. Every inch.
Bounty posters, screenshots of social media posts, photographs, sketches, some professionally printed, others clearly hand-drawn from memory.
Every single one, was Michonne.
Michonne fighting. Michonne standing atop rooftops. Michonne boarding ships. Michonne defeating criminals.
One photo had even been carefully folded into the shape of a flower before being pinned to the wall.
Below the shrine sat a crude pillow woven together from blades of grass and brittle sticks.
Michonne blinked. "…What."
Tongue clasped her hands together, "I've been collecting them for years!"
She beamed, "I even fought someone over that bounty poster!"
She proudly pointed toward one hanging slightly crooked. "I won."
A pause, "He didn't."
Nobody asked what happened. Nobody wanted to know.
Michonne slowly looked around the corner again.
Then back at Tongue. "…This is…"
She searched for the right word.
"…Disturbing."
Tongue gasped dramatically. "You noticed?!"
"…That wasn't a compliment." Michonne said.
Tongue didn't seem to hear her. She happily adjusted one of the posters, "I dust them every morning!"
"…Well…" She looked around. "…As much as you can dust a prison."
EBS quietly leaned toward Shirley. "…She's terrifying."
Shirley nodded. "…Definitely."
Tucker looked at one particularly large poster. "…She's got more pictures of you than you probably have of yourself."
Michonne pinched the bridge of her nose. "I already regret coming over here."
Tongue suddenly spun toward her. "…Don't regret it! I'd never let anything happen to you! I'd bite someone's ear off!"
"…Good to know." Michonne answered flatly.
She let the silence linger. Then her expression shifted.
If Tongue admired her this much…then she was useful.
Michonne folded her arms. "…Tongue."
The woman straightened instantly, "Yes, ma'am!"
"We need information."
Tongue nodded so fast it looked painful, "I know lots!"
"Then start talking." Michonne gestured toward the prison around them, "How does this place work?"
Tongue practically bounced where she stood, "I can do that!"
She proudly puffed out her chest.
"First thing!" She raised one finger. "Nobody has names."
Shirley frowned. "What do you mean?"
Tongue pointed around the prison. "Nicknames. Titles. Sometimes nothing at all. If nobody gives you one…you're just another prisoner."
Shirley's expression slowly changed. He looked down at the concrete. "…Just like the real world."
Nobody heard him except himself.
Tongue continued. "When the sun comes up…"
She pointed toward the ceiling.
"…Work starts. Every cell block has a Cell Manager. They decide when your group leaves. When you eat. When you shower. You don't argue. If you do…"
She smiled. "…You disappear."
EBS swallowed. "…What kind of work?"
Tongue shrugged. "Whatever needs doing. Mining. Construction. Carrying stone. Breaking stone. Moving stone."
She giggled. "…There's lots of stone. You work until they tell you to stop. No breaks. No sitting. No complaining…unless you like punishment."
Shirley frowned. "…And food?"
Tongue's eyes sparkled, "Oh! My favorite part!"
The group blinked. "…Favorite?"
"They give us this yummy gray mush!" She rubbed her stomach happily. "It tastes like wet cardboard! I love it! It's warm! It's squishy! …Sometimes there are bugs!"
She clapped excitedly.
EBS looked horrified. "…That sounds awful."
Tongue tilted her head. "…You get used to it. Or you die."
Nobody knew how to respond to that.
"So…" Tucker slowly asked. "…What about showers?"
"Oh! They're mixed!" She answered cheerfully. "Everybody washes together!"
Tucker's face immediately twisted. "…Seriously?"
Tongue nodded, "But youngsters have their own section."
His shoulders visibly relaxed. "…Oh. Thank goodness."
Shirley looked at him. "Were you actually worried?"
Tucker scratched his cheek. "…I watched this prison show once. It gave me certain expectations."
Michonne sighed. "…You're an idiot."
Tongue suddenly grabbed Michonne's hand again.
"But don't worry! I'll make sure nobody bothers you! I'll guard your showers!"
Michonne immediately pulled her hand away. "…Please don't."
Tongue froze. Tongue gave an awkward thumbs-up. "…Still learning."
She quickly changed the subject, "Oh! And one more thing!"
Her smile disappeared for the first time. "…Fight Night."
The group immediately became serious. "It doesn't happen every day. Only certain nights. When the guards feel like entertaining themselves."
Her voice grew quieter. "They make prisoners fight. Sometimes for food. Sometimes for medicine. Sometimes…"
She looked toward the center of the prison. "…Just because they're bored."
Silence settled over the group.
Tomorrow.
Work.
Then eventually… Fight Night.
Shirley slowly exhaled, "…We're not figuring all of this out tonight."
Michonne nodded, "We'll need our strength."
EBS looked around the overcrowded cell, "…If we're even able to sleep."
Tongue immediately pointed toward the grass pillow, "Michonne can have mine!"
"You can sleep somewhere else."
Tongue gasped. "…I'd be honored."
Michonne stared at her. "…That wasn't a request."
For a brief moment…
Nobody spoke.
Then, exhausted both physically and mentally, the group left Tongue's corner in search of somewhere, anywhere, they could rest before the sun rose.
Because when morning came…
Mynistria wouldn't care that they were newcomers.
It would expect them to work.
Or die.