With every step he took forward, the metal behemoth seemed to loom ever so larger. This was not the first time he laid eyes on such a ship, but it was the first time he had ever gotten so close to it.
As a child, one who still did not understand the truth of the world. He had spent many years sneaking off to the beach—either with Keres by his side, or one of his now gone brothers—to watch from the edges of the forest, as the Enlightened from the year were transported onto the ship.
Back then, he had felt jealous, indignant at not being able to follow them. But he had been a child. An innocent one, with cloth wrapped carefully around his eyes. To keep something so sacred, untarnished.
Now though, as a man grown, he wished for nothing more than to go back to such times, to live within that bubble of innocence his parents had once protected so fiercely.
Abraxes stepped into a raft, one of the countless that littered the shore, and wordlessly sat next to Nero, making sure to keep some distance between them. A pack of three Enforcers followed him, sharp bronze knives in their hands, as one of them started the motor of the vehicle.
They were moving not a moment later, cutting through the violent waves and heading directly for the ship. He looked upon it with a detached sense of wonder. Once upon a time, he had envisioned stepping onto this ship with Keres by his side.
Now, he only had her memory to keep him company.
It was a bitter pill to swallow, and a shallow replacement.
"It's quite the view, don't you think?" Nero asked by his side, keeping a weary eye on the sea around them. "Made out of three different cargo ships and the scraps of the Titanic itself. It's always been quite an eyesore for me."
Abraxes wasn't entirely sure what the 'Titanic' was, but he nodded nonetheless, keeping his questions to himself.
They reached the lowered gangway a few minutes later, with only Nero and Abraxes stepping off, as the Enforcers turned their steel vessel around and headed back to the shore.
"Keep up." Abraxes looked away from the Enforcers and noticed how Nero was already halfway up the stairs. Hurrying along, he stayed quiet, letting the man lead the way.
His eyes were captivated with the rusted metals. With the sea so far beneath him, and he couldn't help but wonder just how long, or even how much, it all cost to make this sea prison.
Abraxes tried to memories the path, but with the corridors all looking the same—painted in a light grey—and the never-ending turns and stairs they walked through, it wasn't long before he gave up.
A few more minutes passed as they walked in silence, before they reached a heavily guarded entrance. Made entirely out of titanium, the door looked more akin to an entrance of a bank vault.
Guarding it, stood Six Enforcers with their swords out. Each one of them bowing lightly to the Archon.
"Open it." He commanded, his voice sharp.
Abraxes watched as two of the six Enforcers moved to the middle of the entrance, each grabbing a side of the giant wheel sitting in the center of the vault door, before forcing it open with a loud creek.
As the entrance began to open, Nero turned to the Enforcer closest to him. "Take him to cell three."
The man nodded before moving over to grab onto Abraxes arm, his grip tightening ever so slightly to cause him pain. He kept his face carefully blank, feeling his bones groan.
The bastard wouldn't be getting a reaction out of him.
"Well, this is where we part ways for now, Jackal. Do get along with your bunkmates. It would be a shame to find you dead." Nero told him with a smile that was entirely fake.
"Oh, before I forget. The knife," he stretched his hand out. Abraxes moved slowly, dropping the knife by its handle into his waiting hand without making any physical contact.
"Best of luck, Jackal. You will need it." With those threatening words, the Archon nodded at the Enforcer gripping his arm and turned away. Walking off whilst spinning the bloodied knife by the handle.
The Enforcer didn't speak as he pulled Abraxes along. They didn't walk for long—passing through various smaller doors on both sides of the corridor—but a new bruise was already forming over his arm.
Coming to a stop, Abraxes bowed his head, avoiding the heated glares of two more Enforcers who stood before the door in front of him.
"Open it." The man holding him said. Both moved away from the door, before the one on his left spun the wheel on its center. A clicking noise, akin to a loose chain being dragged, echoed through the corridor.
The door opened to reveal a small dark room.
"Enjoy your time." The Enforcer hissed, tightening his grip on Abraxes arm, before throwing him forward.
Abraxes could only grunt as his foot crashed into the metal doorway. He stumbled, his balance skewered, before he fell to the ground within the cell. The door behind him rattled once again, before closing with a slam that shook his teeth.
He heard a snort sound through the cell and slowly pushed his weary body up to look. Though his eyes took a moment to adjust, he could make out two figures hidden within the darkness.
It was too dark to see their exact details, so instead, he looked around the cell. Two bunk beds sat on either side of the walls, with a toilet right in the corner. Small holes were pierced into the ceiling, a glint of light coming from them.
'An air channel?' he wasn't entirely sure what they were called, but he understood that it was the only thing supplying oxygen into this vault.
"New blood," one of the two figures growled, his voice deep and rough as if he was a caged animal. "Welcome to the Favored Cage!"
He narrowed his eyes at the man. Feeling confusion build within him at the man's words. The other figure audibly sighed, before turning to face him. When he spoke, it was almost elegant but undoubtedly male as well.
"Ignore the moron, he used to be a part of a circus."
"It was a theatre you damned bastard, and who are you calling a moron, moron?"
"He can be quite dramatic, so don't take what he speaks personally."
The second man spoke as if he hadn't heard the first, his tone almost polite and inviting. It made the hair on his neck rise. A small shiver running down his spine.
'He's dangerous.' The thought came unbidden, yet he felt it was accurate.
The first man growled, leaning forward to point his middle finger at the other Enlightened. Abraxes raised a brow at the action but didn't comment on it. He watched as the man lowered his finger, before focusing on him again.
"So, new blood. What's your name?" the man asked, moving to sit on the top bunk of the other bed.
Cautiously, he moved toward the bed on his right, his hand reaching out blindly before he felt the hard mattress underneath him. Slowly, he lowered himself, being mindful of the top bunk above him.
Only to let out a sharp hiss of pain as he bumped his head regardless. The roof of the bed being lower than he had realized. He purposefully ignored the snickering coming from across the room.
"I am Abraxes Basilus of Clan Epsilon."
"So, we have already reached Clan Epsilon…" the second man muttered, leaning back against the wall. "Ah, right. Where are my manners. I am Rowan Astria of Clan Theta."
Abraxes raised a silent brow at the name, though he doubted the man was able to spot it. "Astria?"
He saw Rowan's body shift, his head moving in what he could only assume was a nod.
"I was gifted the name of my mother. My first breath stained with her blood, my eyes open to a dying corpse and a grieving father."
Abraxes didn't bother asking him for more details. He could read between the lines. That and he was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted after today. A story like this would have to be saved for another day.
"And yourself? Leprechaun."
The first man sputtered from where he sat. Rowan silently laughing from the bunk below him.
"Oi! I'm neither short nor green!"
A loud bang echoed from the entrance, the metal door shaking lightly. "Shut your damn mouths in there!"
The man closed his mouth with an audible click. Sighing quietly before speaking in a lower tone.
"Sylas Denver of Clan Zeta."
"Alright. Now that introductions are over. What did you mean, when you called this the 'Favored Cage'?"
Sylas grumbled under his breath, before he crossed his arms and leaned back. His voice gruff as he spoke.
"All these cells around us. We're hidden away from the other Enlightened because they consider us too dangerous. Apparently, we showed too much promise during the Ceremony." He spat at the wall, as if the word was poison on his tongue.
"How do you know this?" he couldn't help but wonder.
"You can thank Rowan for that." Sylas said, pointing at the lower bunk where the mentioned man gave a brief wave. "His Impetus Talent allows him to hear and see through the shadows around a certain area."
'Did he just-'
"It is fine, Abraxes of Epsilon." Rowan spoke up, effectively cutting through his surprise. "I have no reason to hide it. It is easier to build trust if I am honest with how I gain my information."
"A little too honest, don't you think?"
He could see the man's shoulders rise and fall, a shrug.
"If it stops you from thinking I am some sort of spy, then yes, I will be a little too honest. Nothing matters more, than survival, don't you think?"
Grudgingly, he could admit there was some logic to what the man was saying. But something within him, told him to be cautious of the man. He was a little too quick to reveal something no Enlightened ever willingly would.
"That makes sense, I apologize. It has been a long day for me."
Rowan waved it off, his hand more shadow than flesh.
"No harm, no foul. I understand."
They sat in silence for a moment, an awkward air around the room, before Abraxes broke it again.
"What have you heard of Ασία? I must admit, I do not know enough of where we are being brought."
The silence felt deafening for a moment, before Sylas sighed and placed his head in his hands. "Oh, you poor bastard." He whispered under his breath.
That didn't fill him with much hope.
"How much do you know?" Rowan asked curiously, pulling his knees up to his chest.
He shrugged lightly. "Not enough. I was only told about a Tartarus Gate opening."
"Anything else?" when Abraxes shook his head, the man swore under his breath. "It's not just any Tartarus Gate, but a Category Three. One which has grown big enough to envelope the whole of Ασία in the last five months."
"It's more likely a Category Four by now." Sylas interrupted quietly.
"Exactly. From what I've heard, it's been active long enough that any Fallen Spawn below the Savage Rank is practically extinct. It's been said that Ασία is populated by more Fiends, than any other country."
"Ah…" he was beginning to understand the problem now. He didn't know nearly enough about the rest of the world, but he had learned about Tartarus Gates and their separate Categories when he was younger.
If this gate grew anymore, then Ασία would have to simply be abandoned.
"You want to know the funniest part in all of this?" Sylas asked, leaning forward to look at Abraxes. "They haven't even found where the blasted gate is! They're sending Fireteams made up entirely of Coppers and Mercury's as scouts and keeping themselves safe behind the walls!"
Sylas hissed as he spoke, as if he was nothing more than a deadly viper.
"So…we're being sent off to die, aren't we?" he quietly asked, suddenly feeling numb. The realisation had always been there, lingering at the back of his mind.
Rowan nodded, but he didn't even notice.
Because the thoughts which had been plaguing him earlier came back. He had crossed so many lines. In a singular day, all in the name for his dream. Yet now, there was a very likely chance that he wouldn't last longer than a day within Ασία.
In a wasteland of ruins, surrounded by creatures he could never compete against, how could he grow strong enough to accomplish what he had set out to do?
'What a cruel world we live in, that the thought of death fills me with nothing but relief. What a waste…'