"Next!"
Aether walked up, holding an empty tray in his hands, waiting for his daily food portion. It wasn’t so grand nutritious breakfast, but rather just the necessary, for him to survive, and not die and rot inside his cell. Not that they cared if he did or not, it would just be a hassle to clean everything up, plus, the sll would be terrible.
"Is this even edible?" Aether tilted his head, looking slightly at the food. Did they really think that for breakfast, his stomach could handle a pair of fish eyes and chicken feet? Like, did they even know what breakfast was?
The chef gave him an angry look, almost as if he wanted to poison his food and watch him die, slowly, but surely.
’Like I’ll ever let that happen.’
He sighed, walking away and sitting at an empty table.
The cafeteria was exactly the kind of place that made you question whether the dungeon wanted you fed... or punished.
Aether looked and was hit imdiately by that familiar, awful wave of slls: overboiled broth, damp stone, sothing vaguely rotten, and that ever-present tallic scent that clung to everything in this place, like the air itself had given up.
The room stretched wider than he expected every ti he looked around, this long, rectangular hall. The walls glistened in patches where moisture dripped down them, forming thin trails that looked almost like veins in the stone. Torches lined the walls, wedged into rusty iron brackets, their flas crackling weakly. Every flicker threw twisted shadows across the tables, stretching and shrinking with every movent, making the whole place feel restless, like it never truly slept.
Rows of wooden tables filled the center of the cafeteria, all mismatched heights and lengths. So had been repaired badly, leaving crooked planks nailed on top, while others were so warped from humidity they looked like they were bowing under an invisible weight. Benches squeaked and groaned anyti soone sat or shifted even a little. And the prisoners... the prisoners matched the furniture. Bent. Tired. A little hollow-eyed.
Guards stood around the periter, leaning against pillars or pacing lazily. Their armor clinked with every step, and the sound echoed just enough to remind everyone who was in charge. The sll of their wet, unwashed leather didn’t help.
Aether sighed, glancing back at his trey.
He stared.
A pair of fish eyes stared back at him, floating in a cloudy, thin broth that looked like it had been reused one too many tis. They were pale and translucent, like the fish had died disappointed. The chicken feet sat beside them, stiff and curled, like they had been clawing for freedom right up until they hit the boiling pot.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"...Seriously?"
The steam rising from the tray slled... questionable. The fish eyes wobbled slightly as the broth rippled, as if they were judging him right back. The chicken feet were positioned almost daintily on the tal plate, like the chef had decided presentation mattered after poisoning the concept of breakfast entirely.
Aether nudged the fish’s eyes with his spoon. They rolled.
He imdiately regretted touching them.
Other prisoners were already eating, so scarfing down their food out of pure hunger, others staring at their trays with thousand-yard stares, contemplating life, death, and whatever gods existed to allow this to be served as nourishnt.
Aether leaned back slightly, tray still untouched, letting out a breath that sounded far too tired for soone his age.
He moved the tray away, trying not to look even more than he already had. Really, he hadn’t eaten anything since he ca here, maybe because with the rebellion they have been getting quite a good amount of money, so he has been eating tasty food... and going from that to this... yeah, no.
But he also had to get his nutrition sohow. Or rather, he had to get out, fast, before he gave in as many did in this place. Eating this food was like a trial, to see if you were willing to accept who you are, a soulless prisoner without a life... he didn’t want to get to that point.
...’ How though?’
There were many guards around here; he was also missing his powers. And even more, if there were a way, the others would have already found it. There were many prisoners, all being mbers of his ho kingdom, his people, yet no one else than his cellmate recognized him, which made him feel stupid for being happy after hearing that he wasn’t forgotten.
It was dumb of him, after all, he was just another child, maybe one that didn’t even et the expectations of most. Many others could replace him, so why would they care about soone like him?
...
"Quite sad, isn’t it?"
...
Aether turned his head and staggered, falling to the ground, and making everyone turn to him. But he didn’t even realize this, as he just continued to stare.
’How are you here?’
...
"You know I can’t accept losing to a god. And breakers are demigods, people who have transcended the limit of humanity, but haven’t truly beco gods... but they’re the closest thing. I don’t have much ti, but I wanted to tell you that I am still here. Make a plan, then wait for five days, and I will be back-"
Voidpiercer stopped, noticing himself dissolve into the air.
"Shit, I’m out of ti, don’t forget what I said!"
...
Aether stood on the floor, dumbfounded. So... for whatever reason, Voidpiercer was able to co back for so seconds. How did that even work? Well, it explained to him, Truths are the powers of demigods. With Voidpercers’ rage, it was able to fight against it, but not for long. Yet, enough to tell him to prepare, and when he will be back.
Yet, did Voidpiercer even help him that much... interestingly, it did. Quite a lot. While the King’s truth was weaker on beings of a higher class, everyone was affected by it, even the guards, but all kept their rank and class, aning he was outmatched, and by a lot... but with a blade of the Seeker level, maybe, just maybe he could kill one of them.
The thing was, these were trained soldiers, and even if stories, he might have killed many people above his class. They were because of unfair advantages, like his path in Frozen Crown, Voidpiercer, his earring, and being looked down on.
All except Voidpiercer were out of the question. His path was long gone, plus, even if he still had Promise Child, it wouldn’t help him in this situation all that much. His earring, while it would have helped a lot, he wasn’t able to use it. And no one was going to look down on him, knowing he was the leader of the rebellion that had been terrorizing their reinforcents... and them in general.
Yet, maybe just maybe, if he found the right route and ti, he might not need anything but Voidpiercer.
He just needed to be observant.
...
...
Yet before that, he needed to find a way to get so sleep. With his cell made keeping the bed all to himself, he was never able to get enough sleep for himself, but, since it was breakfast, maybe he could sneak in a couple of minutes of sleep.
Aether left the cafeteria, walking through the hall that led to his room, passing by a guard who seed annoyed for whatever reason. As he fully passed him, Aether glanced back, seeing a small crack between the helt on his head and the tal armor. That small spot was only visible when they were looking down, though. And it was just enough room for a blade to fit in...
’Interesting.’
As he reached the place where he and his cellmate were being kept, the guards questioned him for coming back so early, after all, their breakfast was one of the only breaks they had in the entire day; it was weird for soone to not use it. But he was really too tired.
The guards didn’t deny his wish to go back inside his cell, opening the door of his cell. Yet, as he walked inside, he stole a glance at the hallway that continued even beyond this point, leading to a staircase, which... was the only place that had an existence. Yet, it was kept monitored by a guard, and you weren’t allowed close to it, just in case.
After that, he threw himself on the bed and fell asleep.
...
...
The five days flew by more quickly than he ever could have thought, really. And with the light slowly turning on, aning it was ti for them to go to sleep, Aether awaited the right ti to put the plan he had been creating for five days straight into play. He tapped the floor with his fingers, trying his best to be patient, not to rush things, and ss everything up.
And luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait long.
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