"Here, get in."
Lukas was shoved into a dark room. The moment his bare feet touched the floor, he could tell it was wet.
Click click
He felt the cuffs come off his wrists, followed by the blindfold being pulled from his face. The room was nearly pitch black, but a thin ray of light from the door let him make out several silhouettes huddled in the corners of the large cell.
"Heh. You'll be staying with these guys. Don't worry, they don't bite," the guard whispered, before leaving and shutting the door again, dropping the room back into thick darkness.
"Who's the new guy?" a murmur drifted from beyond the door. Obviously, the guard was talking to someone else.
"Dunno. The guys up top didn't say, but I overheard them calling him the Baron's champion."
"The Baron?"
"Yeah. Apparently, the Baron put all his money on him."
"Holy—! You think he's gonna win? He looks weak."
"Who knows. But I'd bet he's crazy, considering they brought him in suppressing cuffs."
"You think he's an ex-convict? Why bring him to the civilian cells here, then?"
"Who cares. Those nobles are all lunatics. If he is an ex-convict, they probably just want to watch him tear apart the civilians in the cell before daybreak."
The footsteps faded away — the guards had already gone.
'So there are ex-convicts in this game too,' Lukas thought. 'Most of them are probably people who've killed before, mixed in with the weak, feeble participants. The pit games are still as bloody as I remember.'
He let his eyes adjust, picking out the shapes of the others in the room. Most of them looked human — though that meant little; plenty of races across the cosmos could wear a human shape. Their ages varied, old and young alike, but Lukas could practically see the life force fading out of some of them. Different faces, the same exhaustion underneath. Haggard. Dirty, torn clothes, hair matted and unwashed. Even roughed up from his own handling, Lukas still looked better off than any of them.
"Hey," a deep voice called from the corner of the room.
Its owner was a rough-looking young man with dirty red hair and sharp canine teeth, sitting alone in a corner none of the others had claimed. Lukas guessed there was a reason for that. Beneath him, half-hidden, a wide tail curled against the floor.
'Lizardman,' Lukas thought. And yet something about him didn't quite add up — some detail Lukas couldn't place.
"They said you're an ex-convict," the lizardman said.
Lukas could feel every eye in the cell lock unto him after that question.
"Ah. The thing …"
The lizardman cut him off before he could finish.
"Doesn't matter."
"Hm? What doesn't matter?" Lukas asked.
"They also said you're the Baron's champion. Nobles like that don't bet on just anyone. I'm guessing you cut some kind of deal with him — he's probably rigging it so you win. That's likely why they dropped you in the civilian cell instead of with the other convicts."
Lukas opened his mouth to correct him, then thought better of it — they wouldn't believe him regardless — he let the misunderstanding stand, an amused smile tugging at his lips. Not that anyone could see it in the dark.
"Still\…" the lizardman went on. "It dosen't matter if you're an ex-convict or not. It dosen't matter if you cheat. I'm going to win the games and leave this hell-hole, so stay out of my way."
A faint pressure brushed against Lukas's skin, and around the room he heard the others curl tighter into their corners.
'Strongest one here,' Lukas thought.
He glanced around again. Every occupant in the cell now watched him with open suspicion.
'Fair enough. He's more or less told the room I might be working for the Baron — they wouldn't want to associate with me."
Lukas lowered himself to the floor and sat, right in the middle of the room, wet stone soaking through his clothes.
'All the corners are taken, and I'd rather not test my luck near Mr. Angry Lizard. How did they even gather this many people? Did they take all of them by force? And there's apparently a whole separate cell for the convicts on top of this one.'
*Sigh.*
'A operation this size, and the Tower enforcers still haven't caught wind of it. So many powers at play. If only they'd spend half as much effort rooting out the corruption inside their own ranks as they do chasing me across the cosmos.'
*Another sigh.*
'I'm tired.'
Lukas lowered his head and let his eyes fall shut. He looked peaceful — asleep, almost — though nothing could have been further from the truth. This man, Lukas, could not sleep.
————————————————————
*Bang! Bang!*
"Hey! Wake up, you bastards, time to get up!"
*Bang! Bang!*
The pounding on the door echoed through the cell, followed by the scrape of a lock turning.
*Creak.*
"Wake u— AAAHHH!"
The guard screamed and stumbled back in fright. Sitting directly in front of the door was a haggard, white-haired man with eyes burning an unnatural, blood red. Lukas sat wide awake in the middle of the room, exactly where he'd lowered himself the night before — he hadn't slept a wink. The light spilling in from the doorway fell across his face, painting the whole scene something close to a nightmare.
"What's going on here? Why are you on the floor?" another voice demanded from beyond the door, as a bulky guard shoved his way into view, three more trailing behind him.
"Ah — ah, Boss." The frightened guard scrambled back to his feet. "I was just getting the participants out, sir."
"Hm." The bulky guard leaned in to peer at the cell. "What's wrong with him?" he asked, jerking his chin toward Lukas.
"I— I don't know, sir. Found him like that."
"Hah! Think he got scared and couldn't sleep? We've got one of those every batch." One of the other guards sneered, nudging his neighbor.
"Hey. You dead?" one of them said and kicked Lukas in the side.
Lukas raised his head slowly. Every guard in the doorway felt something crawl up their spine at once.
His eyes were too red.
"Good morning, guys," Lukas said. "You all slept well?"