The guards moved with practiced efficiency
They herded the prisoners from the ground floor cell block toward the cafeteria, their voices sharp and commanding. Soren moved with the flow of bodies, Noelle beside him, her white and gold armour standing out among the grey prison clothing and worn fabric surrounding them
The ground floor was always escorted first. It made sense logistically. Get the lowest level cleared, then move back for the rest. By the time the guards returned to escort the upper floors, the ground level prisoners would already be settling into the cafeteria
The metal gate separating the cells from the cafeteria loomed ahead. It was massive, reinforced, designed to contain rather than merely passage. The guards opened it with practiced movements, and the tide of prisoners flowed through into the massive hall
The cafeteria was fully populated now
Everyone in the prison had their own areas and little groups. The vast space had been divided not by physical walls but by invisible boundaries that everyone understood. Some prisoners sat alone, separated from the rest by choice or circumstance. Others clustered in groups of varying sizes, their loyalties and associations clearly marked by proximity
Soren and Noelle made their way to the benches near the kitchen
The kitchen itself was a separate structure, closed off with only those narrow slits in the wall through which food was passed. The couple of rows of tables with benches positioned near it served as the primary dining area. The atmosphere here was relatively calm, prisoners eating, conversing quietly, keeping to themselves
On the far side of the cafeteria, the blacksmithing area occupied its own section. The forges, the anvils, the constant metallic sounds. Around forty prisoners worked there, their movements coordinated and purposeful
Near another metal gate were the toilets and bathing facilities. The infrastructure of the prison was functional, designed for efficiency rather than comfort
But what struck Soren most was the middle of the cafeteria
The space around the notice board, which remained always cleared, a neutral zone—had transformed into something unexpected. A market
Prisoners had set up informal trading posts. Not physical structures, but organized clusters where items were displayed and exchanged. Materials gathered from defeated monsters. Tools that had been crafted in the blacksmithing area. Food that had been saved or traded. Information written on scraps of paper or passed verbally between interested parties
Monster spoils. That was the currency Soren observed most frequently. When a prisoner successfully defeated a monster in the colosseum, they were allowed to collect some of the spoils before the guards took the majority. Teeth. Scales. Organs that might have alchemical value. Bones that could be crafted into tools or weapons. These items held significant value in the prison economy
Soren had gotten nothing from the Umbrax. That fact still annoyed him, though he had made a decision to temporarily forget the past and focus on the near future to protect his mentality. Dwelling on what he couldn't change was poison
Throughout the cafeteria, the main focal points were clear: the notice board in the middle, always cleared and neutral; the kitchen with its benches; the blacksmithing area with its workers and activity; the toilets near the far gate
The overall atmosphere was fairly peaceful
Fights did occasionally break out. Soren witnessed two separate scuffles breaking out in different corners of the cafeteria, but what surprised him was the guards' response. They didn't intervene. They simply watched, allowing the fights to play out until one side backed down or someone submitted. The conflicts seemed to be personal disputes rather than gang-related violence, and the guards allowed the prison's internal hierarchy to handle its own problems
As time went on, Soren noticed something else
The role that the gangs played was more complex than simple territory control. Both the Iron Pact and the Chainhands used their manpower to collect portions of goods from other prisoners. Food from the kitchen. Materials from the spoils market. Anything of value. Any prisoner who resisted was violently beaten up, abused repeatedly by gang members. Their victims dared not resist due to the gang leaders being powerhouses in the prison and the sheer numerical advantage of organized groups backing them up
Soren overheard conversations between prisoners. What emerged was that even though the gangs were technically separated and maintained their distinct territories, they seemed to work together at times. They coordinated to stay out of each other's paths. And occasionally when rising groups within the prison threatened the established hierarchy, they worked in concert to suppress those threats
It was a system of controlled chaos. Power through organization, through numbers, through reputation
Soren filed all of this away, watching, observing, analysing
Somewhere in this market, somewhere among these hundreds of prisoners, was prisoner 217
Soren looked around the cafeteria and thought to himself
Should he just be straight and direct about it? Randomly ask around about who prisoner 217 was? But people might not share their numbers with others for that exact reason. It was a vulnerability to be known, to be identifiable
Then another thought hit his head
Instead of trying to pinpoint a single prisoner, which might have proved costly and would also alert his opponent to the fact that Soren was searching for them, he could take a different approach. His opponent might not know who he was unless they took note of all the numbers of existing prisoners and identified his as an outlier. That could have happened. But Soren knew his opponent was not a rank 2. It must be someone fairly strong
So if he took note and gained information about most of the strong prisoners around here, while he might not know exactly who his opponent was, he could have a vague understanding of their types of magic pathways, their fighting styles. If he ended up facing them in the arena, he could recognize them and not be completely caught off guard
His tone was different now compared to before. More friendly. More trusting. It seemed that last night's conversation with her had broken a mental barrier that Soren had subconsciously put in place. After what he had done in that forest and that cave, he had still clung onto the notion that he was in the right. His mental instability had arisen from questioning whether he truly was right for what he had done. But Noelle's words had allowed him to strengthen a temporary lie to protect himself, and now he could focus on the task at hand and forget his past for remembering it would bring it all rushing back
"I've been thinking about how to gather information about prisoner 217," he said, his voice carrying a tone of genuine discussion rather than command. "Instead of trying to identify them directly, maybe we should learn about the strong fighters here in general. Their fighting styles. Their magic. If I understand the types of threats that exist in this prison, I can better prepare for whoever I'm facing"
He paused, looking at her with his single functioning eye
"Would you have time to help me with this?''
Noelle turned to him, calling him Reed as that was the fake name Soren had given her.
"I will gather information around about the monster I am fighting first," she said, her green eyes thoughtful. "That will probably be easier than learning about specific prisoners. But after I learn what I must, I will help you. My task should be fairly fast. Whilst prisoners are still intimidated around myself, they are still much friendlier than when they look at you or if you were to interact with them."
She smiled slightly, a genuine expression crossing her beautiful features.
"I will pray for you that you will have good fortune, Reed. May the goddess be with you''
As Soren moved through the cafeteria, his mind drifted to observations he had made about this world's belief system
Back on Earth, different people had believed in different religions and different gods. Christianity. Islam. Buddhism. Hinduism. Thousands of variations and offshoots. But whose to say any of them were wrong? At the end of the day, nobody could prove anyone right or wrong
In this world, everything was different
Everyone seemed to believe in a single deity. The goddess Gaia. Not out of choice, exactly, but out of what appeared to be historical fact. In the time Soren had spent in this world, he had only brushed against surface level knowledge regarding this, but there seemed to be historical records of the goddess personally interacting with her believers. She had manifested. She had guided people. She had provided proof of her existence through direct action
This strengthened the belief of the goddess until it became what it was today. Absolute. Unquestioned
Whilst not everyone was as devout as others, everyone accepted the belief in a single deity. The alternative religions that might have existed before seemed to have been completely rejected or forgotten. There was only Gaia. There was only one truth
It was fundamentally different from Earth, where belief was fractured across countless traditions and interpretations. Here, belief was unified
Soren thought about Noelle and her absolute faith. Her certainty. It came from a place of historical validation, not blind hope. The goddess had proven herself real to some extent anyway
Soren had never believed in god
Not on Earth, and not here either. Or rather, he could accept that a god might exist. An all-powerful being. A force that shaped reality. That was theoretically possible
But he could not accept the descriptions that god was all-loving. All-forgiving. Benevolent
Suffering was apparent wherever he looked
In his previous world, starvation existed alongside abundance. Disease took children while others lived in perfect health. People were born into circumstances that guaranteed their suffering through no fault of their own. Cruelty was systemic. Injustice was structural. And if god existed and was truly all-powerful, then they had the capacity to end it all and chose not to
In this world, the reality was the same
The colosseum itself was proof. Four hundred prisoners forced to fight and die for entertainment. Families torn apart by circumstance or conquest. People suffering under the boots of those with power. Magic that could heal was restricted. Knowledge that could save lives was hoarded
And even in this world, if god once existed, from what he knew, why hadn't god blessed her believers in tens of thousands of years? If the goddess Gaia was real and all-powerful, where was the evidence of her care for her creations? Where was the intervention when suffering mounted?
Back on Earth it was all the same. Prayers went unanswered. The faithful suffered just as much as the faithless. Divine intervention was a myth told to comfort people who had no other hope
In Soren's eyes, if god existed and was all-powerful, then they were also cruel. Indifferent. Ignorant to the suffering of their creations
The concept of divine forgiveness meant nothing to him. Forgiveness implied that suffering was justified, that it served some purpose in god's larger plan. But Soren had seen too much random cruelty, too much meaningless pain, to believe in any grand design
If god existed, they were either powerless to stop suffering, or they chose to allow it
Either way, they did not deserve worship for Soren believed that he had suffered too much just not here, but back on Earth as well