The room — if it could be called that — was dark. Completely dark. The trooper pushed the door open and peered inside with the bearing of a man who had not been prepared for this and would be composing a report about it later.
"Why is it... this dark in here?"
Ash stared into the black rectangle of the doorway and felt something cold move through him that had nothing to do with the temperature.
'Oh no. No, no, no, no—'
"Hello?"
The trooper pitched his voice into the darkness.
"Mr. Paul? Anyone? We have someone coming in!"
"Keep your voice down."
The reply came from somewhere inside, a low, rough, and deeply unimpressed.
"What is the matter with you people? Some of us are exhausted after a hard day's work."
"Right, sorry, Mr. Paul—"
"Don't 'Mr. Paul' me. What do you want?"
The trooper unfastened Ash's shackles and gave him a firm push through the door. Ash caught his foot on something, struck the floor hard, and lay there a moment breathing dust.
The trooper called in.
"This is your new team member. As team leader, you've been assigned to bring him up to speed. Show him the rope, all of that."
The voice answered flatly. It did not sound surprised.
"More work. Fine. What is wrong with the lights out there? Is that your people's doing?"
"No, no. Some kind of fault. Shouldn't be long. Power'll be back soon, and your meal as well."
He paused.
"Mr. Paul, one more thing."
The trooper lowered his voice, as though the darkness itself might be listening.
"Go easy on this one. He's tier five."
A brief silence, and then the rough voice said, slowly:
"You think I am afraid of a child at tier five."
"I'm simply flagging it."
"Noted. Goodbye."
The door closed and the trooper retreated down the corridor.
Ash was still on the floor, eyes pressed shut, listening to the quiet murmur of voices in the dark around him.
'Please let there be a light in here. Some kind of light. A candle. A crack beneath a door. Anything. Please. I am asking very nicely.'
After a while of kneeling there, he opened one eye.
What he saw was total and complete darkness.
He exhaled slowly.
'Of course.'
A familiar cold voice whispered at the edge of his mind as one of his abilities from his soul space stirred on its own:
[Skill: Nightstalker's Sight]
The world resolved into something crisp, colorless, and precise. Ash could now make out the bare metal walls of the room. The concrete floor. No beds, or any furniture around — just the stripped bones of a space. And in the far corner, several men seated together in a loose cluster, watching him.
Then the familiar pain arrived, right on schedule. A white-hot spike driven directly behind both eyes. Ash gritted his teeth and breathed through it.
Less than a minute had passed since the skill activated when one of the men raised a flashlight and trained the beam on him.
The moment the light struck his active eyes, the pain escalated from severe to catastrophic — as though something sharp had been driven into his skull through both sockets simultaneously. The skill [Nightstalker's Sight] cut out instantly. Ash seized his face with both hands, pressing his palms hard against his eyes.
A short silence settled over the room.
Then the rough voice came again, closer now, and carrying something almost like concern beneath the gravel.
"Hey. Kid. You alright over there?"
Ash lowered his hands. He located the voice. The man it belonged to was large and broad-shouldered, built like someone who had spent a great many years doing hard physical labor and had simply become the kind of person that hard physical labor produces. Behind him, more men sat against the walls — some watching with strange, quiet smiles, some with flat and tired eyes, some regarding Ash the way people regard things they have not yet decided what to make of.
Ash blinked. His eyes still felt as though they were smoldering. Then he spoke, his voice coming out rougher and considerably more irritable than he had intended.
"No, I'm not alright. Why would I be alright? Do I look as though I'm having a pleasant time?"
The men stared at him.
Ash didn't particularly mind. He was very well acquainted with that by now.
***
After some time on the floor, the pain behind his eyes finally relented. Ash composed himself, sat upright, and took stock of his surroundings. The place had more in common with a cell than a shelter of any kind. That was understandable. Apex had not earned its reputation as the worst of the three organizations without cause. They kept peculiar and specific goals, and some of their leadership was cruel without compunction. which made the organization precisely the right place for him to disappear into.
Ash forced a thin smile.
'Now, I wait. I'm fairly certain these idiots will drag me into their main base sooner or later.'
The smile dissolved when the large man began walking toward him, three others trailing behind him with unsettling grins.
'What do they want now?'
Ash's expression flattened as the man extended a hand.
"Right then. I'm Paul. Senior inmate of this particular hellhole. What do they call you?"
Ash regarded the hand. He did not take it.
"No one. Why would someone like me require a name?"
He closed his eyes.
"I'm a fool. A fool who wishes to be left alone, and who would very much appreciate not being greeted by a disagreeable old man."
Paul's expression soured.
"What?"
He glanced back at his men, then returned his gaze to Ash.
"You think being a tier five makes you the highest authority in here?"
Ash said nothing. He simply closed his eyes.
'Old man. I am begging you. Walk away.'
Paul took hold of his shoulder and hauled him upright without apparent effort.
"Listen to me very carefully, you arrogant little wretch. This cell is my room. My domain. You want to remain here, you answer to me. Are we clear?"
As he said it, the lights clicked on.
The first thing Ash saw, in the sudden glare, was the vein pulsing at Paul's temple. He was on the verge of saying something — he hadn't yet settled on what — when the door swung open.
A boy stood in the doorway. Blond and slight of build. He was dressed in the kind of thin grey wool that suggested Apex had devoted very little thought to worker comfort. He had a large cart in front of him and wide eyes that went immediately to Ash — or rather, to Paul's fist, which was still bunched in Ash's collar.
In the corridor behind him, emergency lights still pulsed red. Armed troopers moved in both directions at pace.
The boy looked at Paul. Then at Ash. Then at Paul again.
"...Am I interrupting something?"
Paul released Ash.
"Boy. What's happening out there?"
"Nothing too serious. The base is being hit by horrors. The troopers are handling it."
He glanced at his cart.
"I have your food, sir."
Then back at Ash.
"Who's that?"
Paul exhaled and turned away from Ash.
"Nobody. Don't speak to him."
He lowered himself into his corner, a spot that bore the particular look of a corner that had been claimed and defended for years, and pointed at the cart.
"Well? Begin distributing. What are you waiting for, a formal summons?"
The boy blinked, pulling his attention from Ash.
"Right. Yes. Sorry."
He moved through the room, handing out bowls. When he had finished, he returned to Ash and held out two portions with both hands.
"Here. Yours."
Ash glanced at the bowl, then looked away.
"I'm not hungry."
The boy looked at him. Then at his collarbones. Then back at his face.
"...You're not hungry."
"That's what I said."
Paul called from across the room without looking up.
"Eren. Leave it. Bring the bowl here — I'll gladly see to it."
Eren ignored him entirely, sat down beside Ash, and set the bowl on the floor between them with a kind of quiet, cheerful resolution.
"You should eat. Leaving your stomach empty is a very poor decision."
Ash stared at the bowl. The smell reached him before he could prevent it — warm rice, something faintly sweet. His stomach responded with an opinion so forceful he felt it in his ribs. He pressed a fist against it and looked elsewhere.
Eren witnessed this and said nothing about it.
"I'm Eren, by the way."
He paused.
"What's your name?"
Ash closed his eyes.
Eren waited a moment, and upon observing that no answer was forthcoming, continued.
"Alright. Stubborn. That's fine."
He settled more comfortably against the wall.
"You know, when I first arrived here, I was nothing like you. I simply... fell apart entirely. A complete breakdown. Humiliating, if I'm honest."
Ash did not respond.
"I'm telling you this to establish common ground, by the way. Is it working?"
Ash still said nothing.
Eren sighed.
"Well — I am at least relieved there's another young person here near my age. I was beginning to think I'd spend the remainder of my time surrounded exclusively by old men who smell of damp metal."
He cast a brief glance around the room.
"No offense intended."
Ash opened one eye.
'Which part of not talking to me was unclear to you?'