"..."
Then the older man cleared his throat.
"We..." he began, choosing his words with extre care, "...saw nothing."
The younger man nodded too quickly.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
They exchanged a sidelong glance, the kind of look that carries envy, disbelief, and bitter resignation.
"Even so..." murmured the young man, almost against his will, "...how lucky."
The other let out a tired sigh.
"Lucky?" he repeated. "Imprisoned for multiple murders, dangerous as a natural disaster... and yet..."
He shook his head slowly.
"So n are just born with it all."
"Others are born to be prison guards," replied the young man bitterly.
When silence settled again in the prison corridor, it was different from before. It wasn’t heavier or more awkward—it was weary. A silence followed. The torches continued to crackle, the guards kept their eyes firmly averted from the cell, and inside, the trio had already composed themselves.
Strax was dressed again, his coat adjusted, boots on, his posture leaning against the stone wall as if that place were just an uncomfortable bench in any square. Cassandra and Daniela had also composed themselves, clothes straightened, hair tied up in an improvised way, sitting on the cold stone floor, one on each side of him, their backs resting on his legs.
For a few seconds, no one said anything.
It was Daniela who broke the silence, with an exaggerated and theatrical sigh, throwing her head back until it lightly touched Strax’s thigh.
"I still think," she began, her voice heavy with feigned indignation, "that this could have lasted longer."
Strax didn’t even need to look to know she was pouting.
"Daniela..."
"No, no, let finish," she interrupted, turning her face to Cassandra for support. "Seriously. Months without him showing up, we finally et, and then... interruption, arrest, common sense. What a disappointnt."
Cassandra nodded slowly, arms crossed, her expression too serious for soone who was clearly agreeing.
"I agree," she said. "My fire hasn’t been extinguished. Not even close."
Strax closed his eyes for a second.
He took a deep breath.
Then, without warning, he gave Daniela a light, but well-placed, tap on the head.
"Ow!" she complained imdiately, bringing her hand to the top of her head. "You brute!"
Before Cassandra could react, he repeated the gesture on the other side.
"Hey!" she protested, glaring at him indignantly. "That was completely unnecessary."
"You two," Strax said, opening his eyes and finally looking at them, "are impossible."
Daniela crossed her arms, pouting.
"You’re evil."
"Very evil," Cassandra retorted, in an accusatory tone that convinced no one.
Strax let out a sound sowhere between a sigh and a humorless laugh.
"Doing... that... in a prison cell," he said, choosing his words carefully, "has gone too far. Even for ."
Daniela’s eyes widened, offended.
"’Even for ’? Look at the level of audacity."
"Since when have you beco a benchmark for limits?" Cassandra added.
Strax tilted his head back, staring at the stone ceiling as if pleading for patience from the universe itself.
"Always. You just pretend not to notice."
Daniela turned to the side, resting her elbow on the ground and her chin on her hand.
"Oh, please. We’re trapped," he said. "We’re in danger," he said. "As if that were a real problem."
Cassandra nodded, turning slightly to face Strax directly.
"She’s right about one thing," she said. "That doesn’t matter. It never mattered."
Strax lowered his gaze to her, attentive.
"The strong rule," Cassandra continued, her voice calm but firm. "They always have. They always will. And we are strong. We do what we want."
Daniela smiled, pleased that soone had finally said it aloud.
"Exactly. Let them out there adapt."
Strax was silent for a few seconds.
It wasn’t an empty silence. It was the kind of pause that cos when soone recognizes the truth in a statent... but also sees all its consequences.
"That’s true," he said finally. "Partly."
They both stared at him at the sa ti.
"The strong rule," Strax continued. "But the strong who lack common sense end up buried by their own excesses."
Daniela grimaced.
"That sounded like a speech."
"Because it is," he replied. "Do you two think I got here destroying everything without thinking?"
Cassandra raised an eyebrow.
"Not exactly thinking about consequences."
"Thinking about them all the ti," Strax corrected. "I only decide when they’re worth it."
Daniela looked away, clearly annoyed.
"And now it wasn’t worth it?"
Strax looked at the corridor, at the bars, at the torch, at the guards who pretended not to exist.
"Not now," he replied. "Now, prison is part of the journey. Not an obstacle."
Cassandra rested her head on his shoulder, thoughtful.
"Do you want sothing from the mayor, or do you just want to kill him and take his place?" she murmured.
Strax didn’t answer imdiately.
Daniela looked from one to the other.
"Of course he wants sothing," she said. "He always does."
"Information," Strax said. "Influence. A counterasure. I want to see how far this city thinks it can go."
Cassandra let out a slight sound of approval.
"So we’re here for strategy."
"Also," he replied. "And because you asked to co along."
Daniela smiled triumphantly.
"See? It’s our fault."
"Largely," he confird, without irony.
She chuckled softly and moved closer, resting her shoulder against his.
"Even so," she said, "you could have let... well. A little longer."
Strax sighed again, but this ti there was sothing almost affectionate in the gesture. "You two never learn."
"We don’t want to learn," Cassandra replied, closing her eyes. "We want to live."
Silence returned, but now it was comfortable.
Outside, the guards changed shifts in absolute silence, avoiding even looking in the direction of the cell. One of them whispered sothing about "not being paid enough for this." The other agreed without asking questions.
Inside, Strax leaned his head against the wall, feeling the weight of the two won against him.
"You know," he said softly, "that this will get worse before it gets better."
Daniela gave a lazy smile.
"It always gets worse."
Cassandra added:
"And we always survive."
Strax closed his eyes.
"Yes," he murmured. "But only because, sotis, we know when to stop."
The two won didn’t answer.
Footsteps echoed down the stone corridor before any of them could say anything. They weren’t hurried, nor furtive—they were deliberate, laden with that bureaucratic weight that only people with borrowed authority usually possess. Torches flickered as three guards appeared at the end of the corridor, their armor creaking with every movent.
One of them cleared his throat too loudly.
"Uh..." he began, clearly uncomfortable. "The mayor... wants to see you."
Daniela smiled imdiately.
"Wants to see us?" she asked, tilting her head. "What an honor."
The guard avoided looking directly into the cell.
"The exact words were..." he paused, visibly regretting being there, "...who had the audacity to have sex in a city prison cell."
For a second, there was silence.
Then Cassandra let out a short laugh.
Daniela laughed shalessly.
Strax tilted his head back and laughed too, a deep, low, genuine laugh that echoed off the stone walls and made the guards exchange glances, uncertain whether it was courage or madness.
"Audacity," Daniela repeated, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of her eye. "I liked that part."
"At least he recognizes talent," Cassandra comnted.
Strax stood up calmly, stretching his shoulders as if just waking from an uncomfortable nap. He took two steps forward, stopping right in front of the cell bars.
"Very well," he said, with absolute tranquility. "Let’s et him."
One of the guards swallowed hard.
"I-I’ll open the cell..."
"No need," Strax replied, almost gently.
The three guards frowned at the sa ti.
Strax closed his eyes for a brief mont.
The air changed.
There was no explosion, no blinding light. Just a sudden pressure, as if space itself had decided to obey. An invisible, yet overwhelming, aura expanded from him, making the torches flicker violently and the stones on the floor vibrate under the feet of everyone in the corridor.
The bars began to creak.
They didn’t bend outwards. They didn’t shatter into shards.
They gave way.
The iron slowly molded itself, as if it were clay subjected to invisible hands, opening into a perfect cutout—tall, wide, with the exact contour of Strax’s body. A clean, impossible, almost respectful opening.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Cassandra stood up right behind him, observing the opening with a satisfied half-smile.
"Always elegant," she comnted.
Daniela passed through the opening soon after, lightly running her hand along the edge of the still-warm iron.
"And economical," she added. "No keys, no waiting."
The guards were paralyzed.
One of them dropped his spear without realizing it.
Another opened his mouth to speak... and couldn’t utter a sound.
The third simply stared at the now-open cell, eyes wide, face pale as wax.
Strax passed by them unhurriedly, adjusting his coat once more, as if he were leaving a courtroom and not a dium-security prison.
"You can rest assured," he said as he passed. "If I wanted to escape, this prison wouldn’t exist anymore."
That didn’t help.
Cassandra and Daniela followed close behind him, steps synchronized, postures too relaxed for those who had just demonstrated complete disregard for the city’s structures.
When the three were a few ters away, one of the guards finally found his voice.
"I... I’ll let the mayor know you’re on your way..."
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