[: 3rd POV :]
Cells after cells, corridor after corridor—Daniel pressed on.
With every step, he became a beacon of salvation in that cursed place.
For every child he rescued, every broken man or woman he healed, he gave them more than just safety.
He gave them something they hadn't felt in a long time: hope.
Their tears of gratitude, the way they whispered his name with reverence, it all etched into him like wounds of a different kind.
But he didn't stop.
The slavers, guards, and tormentors who dared raise a hand to stop him were annihilated without mercy.
Some were burned alive in an instant, others were turned to dust without even realizing they'd been condemned.
Daniel didn't flinch.
He didn't hesitate.
Anyone who had taken part in the horrors of this place—anyone who had enjoyed it—was erased from existence.
But then he found a room.
It was different and silent.
Its entrance was unlike the others—no screams, no scratching, no muffled sobs.
