“Breakfast,” Raze declared, setting the platter of food down on the table as he ported into the cell. The food was a ‘hamburger’ and ‘french fries’, a simple recipe they had gotten from one of their human informants. It might make the sacrificial lamb relax a bit getting home-adjacent food.

The table wobbled wildly under the platter, causing Raze to take note.

The table was missing a leg.

Odd.

When he looked away from the table, he noticed that the walls were smeared in blood, singed with soot, and dripping mangled metal… and the En’hol was gone.

“Huh,” Raze grunted, taking a ‘french fry’ off the plate and eating it as he scanned the blood-smeared walls.

With a shrug, the giant sat down in the chair and hefted the hamburger, biting into it as he pondered his next move.

***hours earlier***

“Ow.” Tom groaned, lying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.

There was no door. The air vents were way too small to crawl through and covered with a grate of thick steel.

And best of all, the room itself gave Tom a little shock every time he tried to actively produce Soul pulses in order to dupe a tool from the day before that could get him out of here.

Specificially the Ghostwalk Crypt. That would be ideal.

I wonder if the giant was wearing some kind of keyfob that allowed him to use his powers.

the cells were obviously designed to contain Alia. Tom could make out the runes inlaid into the walls designed to slurp up traces of ambient Soul pulses and disrupt his concentration with tiny shocks.

So either the giant was absolutely perfect when he teleported, he didn’t care about a little shock, or he had a keyfob.

Not that that really helped Tom at the moment.

Could I make a keyfob? Tom thought, raising his head as he studied the rune-covered wall.

I don’t think I have time to figure out what would work. That task seemed like it would take way too long. Not to mention Tom didn’t have Crypt Vocabulary, and Material Spell Synthesis to cross reference vocabulary with and get it exactly right.

“Oh my God, that book is worth four hundred million dollars.” Tom groaned, smacking his head against the unfeeling stone floor. It was acting as a cupholder right now.

Although that one does look like the lightning rune, Tom thought, lifting his head again and locking his vision on the rune in question, which was inlaid into the wall near the end of dozens of identical lines of inlaid metal text. Of course Tom made note of the lightning rune when studying.

Who didn’t wanna shoot lightning?

Other parts looked like bits of the efficient Create water spell phrase. They held onto the soul pulses and doled them out to the lightning rune at such a slow pace that there was no way it could shock Tom to death. Just enough to make it impossible to escape. At least, that’s what Tom thought they did, just based on what he could gather.

“Hmm…”

So if the lightning didn’t go off, wouldn’t it basically function as a battery? One that releases its charge whenever I try to do something?

Tom pursed his lips. That could work.

But how to disable the zappies?

The Zappies were made of steel inlaid into the wall, and while there was a little tarnish on the runes, they would certainly hold up longer than he would, with such a low-power application.

And Tom sure as hell couldn’t scratch over a dozen chunks of solid steel out of the wall in under eight hours. The giant would port back in the morning and notice he’d started on number one.

Tom’s gaze flicked between the lightning rune, and it’s power regulator. Then back to the lightning rune.

There’s a tiny gap where it’s set into the wall. I bet a liquid could get in there.

Like, blood perhaps?

If Tom could get his blood into the gap between the wall and the lightning rune, then by default his blood would take the shape of the rune, essentially becoming part of the spell phrase.

Then the lightning would actively avoid hurting him.

There might just be a way to disable the lightning runes quickly after all.

Tom scanned the room. Now I just need something sharp, because I’m not gonna bite myself. Way too messy.

Tom’s gaze landed on the wooden table. Wooden tables were usually held together with nails and screws.

***an hour later***

Oh God, I’m woozy, Tom thought, leaning against the wall, his head swimming. His thumb was held over the punctured vein in his wrist, there was blood everywhere.

This might actually be dangerous.

Shit had gotten messy after the first couple lightning runes, and now there were smears of blood and bloody palm prints all over the floors and walls.

“Okay, is that everything?” Tom muttered, scanning the room.

Every lightning rune had been thoroughly doused in blood, to the best of Tom’s ability.

Through the wobbly view of the room, Tom confirmed that every rune had been neutralized.

“Alright, here goes nothing.” Tom began to generate Soul Pulses

Thump. His heart startled as that intangible thing moved past it.

ZAP!

“FUCK!” Tom was jolted out of his blood-loss stupor by a strong electric charge through his whole body.

In a fit of pique at his wasted effort, Tom smacked a bloody rune with his fist, holding his wounded wrist tight against his body.

Wait a minute. Tom reoriented on the rune under his fist, pressing his fingertips to it.

Tom tried again, this time deliberately directing every bit of the Soul pulse he created into the one lightning rune in front of him, bypassing the regulator in the spell phrase above it.

Thump.

ZAP!

POW!

The lightning rune under his fingers unleashed an explosion of lightning, turned white hot and melted out of the wall, transferring no more heat to his fingertips than a plate heated in the microwave, on account of his blood.

Hot, but not permanently damaging.

The shock was nothing to write home about either.

“Take that you stupid room!” Tom shouted, before he nearly fainted.

Let’s do this… Tom thought, dragging himself across the bloody wall to the next rune.

***DREAM***

Tom sat up out of bed and threw the covers off.

“You’re energetic this morning,” Nema groaned from the bed, her body trembling as she stretched in the morning light.

Tom paused for a moment, his jaw dropping at the sight until he remembered his mission. He glanced down and cursed.

“Let’s put a pin in this,” Tom said, “As tempting as that is, I’m pretty sure I’m bleeding out, so I’m kind of on a time limit.”

“…What?” Nema frowned, peering at him through one half lidded eye as he hustled through his room and snatched up the ghostwalk Crypt and the Healing crypt.

“Damnit!” Tom realized he didn’t have the soul pulses to dupe both.

Ghostwalk it is. Tom would rather be out of the prison and woozy than still stuck there and feeling peachy.

“I’ll see you soon,” Tom said, kissing a confused Nema on the forehead before waking himself up.

***

Tom peeled his eyes open and dragged himself to his feet, chuckling evilly as he went up to each of the broken spell phrases and yoinked the soul pulses out of the battery portion, storing them in the Ghostwalk crypt.

More than enough to get him outta here…probably.

Come to think of it…Tom thought, peering blearily at the wall. Since there was no door, he had no idea which direction was the hall. If there was a hall, and this wasn’t just buried hundreds of feet underground.

Tom took his thumb off the puncture wound in his wrist, hoping the pressure had caused it to clot.

No such luck. I hope my tetanus boosters are current.

Tom ripped off a piece of cloth then tied it tight around the wound, making a little wad to provide extra pressure to that one spot.

Then he scanned the wall and chose a section at random.

That looks as good as any, Tom thought, stumbling towards it, the crypt buzzing with soul pulses in his hand.

Tom slipped through the wall, his entire body turning cold as he became immaterial for a moment.

The light brightened substantially, and for a brief moment, Tom hoped he’d found the outdoors, or at least the hallway leading to aforementioned outdoors.

No, it was just a room with better lighting, and a blonde girl reading a book.

She stared at him.

He stared at her.

“Hi.” Tom muttered lamely, holding up his gruesomely bloody hands to demonstrate he came in peace.

“AAAAAAAHH!” she shrieked, coming at him with the leatherbound tome.

Screw this, Tom thought as he passed out.

******

Tom didn’t dream. Likely that had something to do with the blood loss. Frankly he wasn’t entirely expecting to wake up at all. Waking up in someone’s lap was a substantial improvement.

‘~’? she asked, peering down at him, her view somewhat obscured by herself.

“hey, I recognize you.” Tom muttered. From what he could see of her face, she was the Honnuken they’d captured over a month ago.

The hell is she doing in magic prison?

“Any chance you speak English?” Tom asked. She stared back, uncomprehending.

“You speak Vith?” Tom asked in Vith.

“No speak Vith.” She said back in Vith, shaking her head.

“No habla español, I suppose,” Tom groaned, reaching for his head. He had a pounding headache. Gotta learn a third language now.

“~!?” She asked, yanking his wounded wrist away from his head and pointing at it with her other hand.

Tom had no idea what the words meant individually, but the tone was that of an outraged mom, asking ‘Did you do this to yourself!?’

“Yeah, I suppose I did.” Tom said, studying the smooth, scarless surface of his wrist.

Did she get herself zapped to patch me up? Tom thought, eyeballing the room. Not so. The prison cell he was currently in was seemingly designed for much less dangerous individuals than the one he’d been in previously.

I’m almost outta here. Just gotta get up and go.

Tom pushed himself to his feet, despite the young woman trying to pin him to the bed. Tom decided to interpret it as professional concern for his wellbeing, because most young women don’t try to wrestle boys they just met otherwise.

“You really should let go,” he said to the girl clinging to his midsection, her toes unable to keep a hold of the bed, and flailing when he stood, supporting an entire extra person.

Tom lumbered over to where the crypt was and snatched it off the ground before gently detaching the overzealous healer. She looked up at him with a strange mixture of emotions that Tom really couldn’t entirely parse. A bit of crying, maybe because he wasn’t following her medical recommendation for bedrest?

Anger, likely because of the same? There was also a bit of her looking at him with a hint of deep recognition, like spotting an old friend across the street. Fear, and an intangible undercurrent of desire as her eyes roamed, likely born from the adrenaline of their first meeting.

It was a lot, and Tom didn’t really wanna deal with all of it. He was busy escaping.

“I’ll see you later,” Tom muttered as he headed toward the wall. This time he was taking a left turn, hoping to put himself in the hallway, rather than the next room in the hall. If there was a hall.

Tom paused, his hand held up to the wall. He glanced over his shoulder and eyeballed the young woman, then glanced at the fresh marks on the wall, marking the days since she’d been thrown in here.

His guts twisted at the prospect of just…leaving her there.

Ah, fine.

Tom turned around.

“Do you?” Tom asked, pointing at her. “Want to stay.” He mimed eating and sleeping. “Here?” he pointed at the ground. “Or do you want to leave?” Tom pointed at the wall.

A minute seemed to stretch into eternity as she considered.

Then she pointed at the wall.

“Alright.” Tom took her hand, and together they slipped through the wall…

And into the open air outside the third story of the Tower of Penance.