Ryk was chained inside a prison truck, still bleeding. Five heavily armored soldiers kept their aim fixed on his head. Blood dripped from his mouth and the cuts across his body. His eyes were closed, but he could still faintly hear the sounds around him — muffled, fading in and out.
The lieutenant in the front jeep looked ahead and smirked when he saw a massive fortress rising in the distance. It was the Oblivion Ward — a colossal fort-like prison with four towering buildings at its corners, taller even than the central one. The entire complex stood on an island surrounded by dark waters stretching half a kilometer in every direction.
As the convoy crossed the thick metal bridge, a heavy clanging echoed beneath the tires. Inside the truck, Ryk heard the brakes screech and his eyes flickered open — barely, but enough to see the back gate swing wide. Soldiers dragged him out to the ground. He could still walk, though every step was a limp.
The air outside was dark and heavy with rain. A black cloud hovered over the fortress.
The lieutenant walked up to Ryk, grabbed his neck lightly, and pointed toward the prison.
"That's… your end," he said, eyes sharp with arrogance as he cracked a grin.
Ryk didn't react.
The lieutenant clicked his walkie-talkie.
"Open the gates."
A thunderous clang rolled through the air as the massive doors groaned open. A soldier struck Ryk on the back with a baton.
"Move."
Four soldiers marched ahead of him, ten on each side. They tugged on his chains, forcing him forward. As Ryk limped on, he noticed the blackened walls, the small hanging cages with human skeletons rattling inside — just bones left now. A cold breeze swept through the courtyard, making the chains hiss.
The prison walls had almost no windows, and soldiers stood armed at every turn.
Soon, Ryk was led inside. He looked back just as the heavy gates shut behind him with another echoing thud. Darkness filled the space, but within seconds torches and dim lights flared to life.
It was a vast corridor, lined with mounted guns and guards at every post. Massive paintings hung on the walls, each depicting scenes of merciless punishment — so gruesome that no one could look at them for long.
As Ryk turned his head to glance at one, a soldier struck him with the butt of his gun.
"Lock your vision to the front!" the soldier barked.
The others barely reacted. Prisoners like him were brought in often — this was nothing new to them.
After walking a long stretch, they reached another towering gate — wood and metal fused together. A team of soldiers pushed it open.
What waited beyond wasn't brightness — just a faint, lifeless glow. They stepped into the main yard at the center of the fortress. A massive circular pond filled with stagnant, murky water dominated the space.
"Another rookie, hmph…" two gate soldiers muttered as they passed.
The air was calm and musty, the cold breeze the only movement. The walls rose so high that Ryk had to tilt his head back to see the clouds above. Crows perched near the barred windows; one let out a harsh caw.
Then, without warning, the prison erupted with noise.
Cries echoed from every window. Prisoners slammed their bars with spoons, plates, whatever they had, screaming into the night.
Ryk turned his head, watching the chaos — until he noticed a group emerging from one of the great doors.
General Domo.
He walked out flanked by five lieutenants and more than a hundred soldiers.
The cries only grew louder, until Domo pressed a button on the remote in his hand.
Instantly, screams turned to agony — prisoners convulsed, clutching at their waists as electricity burned through them. A metallic device had been fixed to each prisoner's belt, a control tool designed to send searing shocks through their abdomen at the press of a button.
Domo walked closer. Ryk noticed something at the center of the pond — a broken chair, drenched in dried blood.
After a few steps, Domo stopped before Ryk and his guards. Sweat glistened on his forehead.
"Still surviving, huh?" he said, studying Ryk. "He took five bullets, burns, cuts… how is he even alive? He can barely stand."
"He won't last a few days," a lieutenant muttered.
"No," Domo snapped. "He's different. His execution will not be held soon!"
Ryk straightened his back, coughed up blood, and chuckled faintly.
"Why not soon… General? You look scared."
Domo's jaw tightened.
One of the lieutenants — the same one who had escorted Ryk in — grabbed him by the face.
"I'll cut you bit by bit," he snarled. "Then scatter your pieces all over this prison. It'll take these prisoners years to put you back together!"
He released his grip and pulled on a spiked metal glove.
"General, you don't have to worry about this brat anymore. He's nothing special."
The general sighed.
"Then it's your duty to execute him, lieutenant."
A smirk crept across the man's face.
The prisoners at the windows fell silent, watching.
"Hold him tightly," the lieutenant ordered.
Ryk smirked.
The lieutenant swung his fist and punched Ryk hard across the face. Blood splattered to the ground. He went for another hit — but this time, something flashed in Ryk's eyes. As the punch came, Ryk opened his mouth and sank his teeth deep into the lieutenant's wrist.
"AAARGHH!" the man screamed.
Soldiers behind them rushed forward, smashing their gun stocks into Ryk's back. He didn't move. He didn't even flinch.
"Leave it off!" the lieutenant cried in pain.
Their eyes met — and Ryk growled through his teeth, "Bits… by bits."
With a violent jerk, Ryk ripped the lieutenant's hand clean off.
General Domo turned at the sound of the scream. His eyes widened.
"Charge!" he roared.
Soldiers rushed forward as Ryk spat the severed hand into the pond. The lieutenant fell, writhing, trying to kick him away — but Ryk caught his ankle, crushed it, and stomped hard between his legs.
The soldiers kept striking Ryk, exhaustion creeping into their blows. Nothing worked. In desperation, one soldier drove his bayonet into Ryk's back. Ryk roared — the pain barely slowing him — and tore the lieutenant's leg apart.
A step later, he slammed his foot down onto the lieutenant's face. The skull caved under the force — and one of the man's eyes popped free, flying through the air straight into General Domo's open mouth.
The entire yard froze.
Then — someone fired a taser.
The electric current hit Ryk's neck, dropping him instantly. His vision blurred, then went black as he hit the ground.
General Domo gagged, stumbling as the eye slid down his throat. Soldiers dropped Ryk's limp body and ran toward their choking commander.
Five lieutenants stood back, breathing hard.
"Not an ordinary man…" one muttered, sweat dripping from his face.
They hoisted Ryk up by his chains and carried him down into the Underground Level Three.
There, General Domo finally vomited — the eye rolling out of his mouth. He wiped his lips, whispering hoarsely, "His voice… should never return."
Down below, the lieutenants entered a vast, dark hall. The air was damp and foul. Dozens of unconscious prisoners hung from the ceiling, their wrists chained. Some still alive, most long dead.
They chained Ryk's wrists high above his head, hanging him upside down. The chains were forged from Dronium, a rare metallic element that had arrived on Earth through a meteor — said to withstand any impact, needing millions of degrees of heat to melt.
"Let him rot," one lieutenant spat before leaving.
Darkness swallowed the room again, save for faint shafts of light cutting through cracks in the ceiling.
A rush of visions flickered through Ryk's mind —
He was seven again, playing with Yori and the other kids near the factory yard. Soldiers didn't care much about them.
"Don't run too fast, or you'll hurt yourself," his mother, Ruth, said lovingly as she cooked for the soldiers.
Ryk tripped and fell.
"Ahh, it hurts!" he cried.
Ruth picked him up, smiling softly.
"You're my strong boy… aren't you?"
"Hey! Get back to work!" a guard shouted.
Ruth nodded, turning to Ryk.
"Now go sit with your friends and wait for the night meal," she said gently.
The memory shifted.
The same soldier Ryk had hated most aimed his gun — and shot Ruth. The sound exploded through Ryk's mind.
He gasped awake.
He was hanging upside down, wrists bleeding in the Dronium chains. The hall was silent, except for his breathing.
He coughed, realizing something — the burns on his skin were gone, and his blood had dried. Then a strange wind began to stir. The hanging bodies — living and dead — began to sway.
This room was sealed. No air should move.
So how are they swaying? Ryk thought.
He tried breaking free, but the chains didn't budge. The stench of the corpses burned his nose. The wind grew stronger. A faint electric hum rippled through the air — energy crawling up his skin like static.
"What… is this…" he muttered, anger and confusion mixing in his voice.
Then he saw it — a faint light in one corner of the hall.
Something was moving.
Fast.
Too fast.
A blur of wind — and the crackle of electricity.
The gust stopped. Faint crackling echoed in the dark. A massive paw stepped into the light — claws like blades, muscles like steel.
Two bluish-purple eyes opened in the shadows.
A low growl rumbled through the air, shaking the chains.
The creature stepped forward, face still hidden — and then leaped straight at Ryk, jaws wide open.