“Okay...there are 1,500 soldiers on the island, but it’s up to me and my crew to put down a riot! This is absurd!”

Even as Captain Dawson was rushing past the halls of Darkbane Prison, he was still furious at the situation he was placed in. This was not how he planned to spend his day! None of the crews following him answered his complaints, so he turned to the Lieutenant leading the way.

“Where are we now?”

“Sir, we are in District 3. We should arrive at District 1 in a few minutes.” The Lieutenant replied before tapping his earpiece. His face was quickly taken over by a look of relief. “The Command Center says this area should be clear.”

“Oh great! That’s a relief!” Captain Dawson snickered, acting rude in front of the lower-ranked officer to hide his panic. “This is supposed to be the safest prison on the planet! I heard there are electrified cell doors and automatic turrets! Where are they? How the hell did the prisoners break out of three districts at once?”

The Lieutenant smirked inside. This was the safest prison on the planet alright, and if everyone in the prison wasn’t enslaved by one of the prisoners, no prisoner would ever make it out of the walls alive! Still, he maintained his patience, knowing the Captain wouldn’t be snickering very soon.

And when that happened, he would gladly enjoy the man’s screaming. Even before his transformation, the Lieutenant was already a sadist. Becoming a Disciple of Agony only enhanced certain traits of his.

The Captain brought with him over a hundred crewmates, which sounded like a lot on paper. However, in the prison facility, this was barely enough men to fill an entire hallway. Most of these men carried gauss rifles and wore body armors that were a mixture of red and black. Unlike their commander, many of them were veterans who had seen real combat. They were certainly a force to be reckoned with.

Suddenly, the Lieutenant paused and waved for the rest of the squad to stop. He tapped his earpiece as he seemingly received orders from his commanders.

“I see. Understood, Vice Warden. I am relaying the order now.” With that said, the Lieutenant snapped to Captain Dawson and issued him a new order. “Captain, I just received new instructions from Vice-Warden Stone. You are to divide your forces into four squads of equal sizes. One of them will stay here. I will take you and one of the groups to the Armory. The other two groups will be moved to reinforce the defenses at the Command Center and the Communication Center.” He frowned. “I will point out the halls leading to the two centers.”

Now Captain Dawson was truly unhappy, not that he was too glad of this whole thing in the first place. First, as a ship captain, he was forced to grab his sidearm and move to suppress a riot that shouldn’t have been his concern in the first place! And now, he had to divide up his men in a potentially deadly situation? Where were all the real guards? All dead?

Still, orders were orders, and despite what Captain Dawson thought inside, unless he wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and commit treason, he had no choice but to obey the instructions given to him and divide his men into four groups of several dozen each. Soon, the already numbered crew members were further weakened. By pulling ranks, Warden Locke was able to get the crew exactly where he wanted them without firing a shot.

Before long, Captain Dawson and the Lieutenant found themselves making their way down another hallway. The only difference was that now they only had around 30 men behind them. The Captain gripped onto his Arbiter handgun with shaking hands, hoping things wouldn’t get too out of hand and that his participation in this riot would be as trivial as possible.

A while after departing from the other three groups, Captain Dawson was rather satisfied to hear that all of the waves of distinct gunshots had come to a stop. This was good, as this meant the riot was put down...right? Or maybe the rioters have wiped out all the defenders? Hmmm…

The man expected a lot of things. What he didn't expect was turning around a corner...and finding himself staring at a group of at least 30 men. He wasn’t quite aware of what was happening at first until his eyes landed on the prison jumpsuits on these men and the shock batons in their hands.

Before he could let out a scream of warning, the group of prisoners swarmed over him, their charged batons striking against his body. Captain Dawson was never a fan of armors as he assumed he would never be in a position where he needed that sort of protection. That cost him dearly. Within seconds, as his mind was still trying to process the odd events that have unfolded ever since he landed, the batons struck him and knocked him to the ground. Now on the ground, the Captain tried to reach for his handgun, but his attempts were stopped when a prisoner stepped on his hand so hard he swore his bones cracked. The man screamed, and he wasn’t the only one.

As the Captain laid on the ground with his weapon out of reach, he watched helplessly as the horde of prisoners rushed the men he was leading, who were equally caught by surprise. When he was hit, Captain Dawson didn't realize it, but now that he was on the ground, he could see that there was something wrong with the prisoners. They were moving fast. Certainly faster than his crew and too fast for his men to even realize what was going on and put up a meaningful resistance with their firearms.

Another thing that shook the Captain was how hard these prisoners hit. He saw a prisoner send his knee into a crew’s chest, which was protected by black body armor. Yet the armor, designed to protect against physical strikes like this one, wasn’t enough to stop the poor man from collapsing on the ground and vomiting his guts out. Another kick to the side knocked him out completely.

Within seconds, the prisoners have swept through most of the squad, knocking them out without threatening their lives. Before the crew had any idea what was going on, two-thirds of them were down already. The rest stood there with their weapons raised, but as they stood there, many of them hesitated. Gauss rifles were good weapons, but their penetration power meant they were a poor choice in melee. If they opened fire here, they would mow down their own as well as the prisoners. Even if they didn't care about friendly fire...their Captain was also in the range of fire, and something told the crew killing their Captain in an accident wouldn’t be the best for their health and safety.

In that moment of hesitation, many more crews were knocked off their feet and incapacitated by the swift blows of the prisoners. The attackers were insanely well coordinated even in the chaotic hallway, splitting up one prisoner for each crew with a level of perfection that shouldn’t even be possible.

As a few more men hit the ground screaming, a crew closer to the back raised his gauss rifle, ready to spray all the bullets in his magazine into the incoming horde of prisoners. At this point, friendly fire no longer concerned him. But just as he was about to open fire, the Lieutenant who led them here suddenly came out of nowhere and yanked his weapon out of his grip, cutting off his last hope.

Wait...what? For a second, the injured Captain couldn’t quite believe his eyes. What was going on here? The local guards were teaming up with the prisoners to take out his crew? But...why? This was a riot! Shouldn’t the guards and the prisoners be at each other’s throats? Perhaps this Lieutenant was a lone traitor?

The Captain didn't have too much time to ponder the possibilities, because following a final cracking sound, the Lieutenant knocked out the final crew and sent him onto his knees with a crippled arm. Just like that, one of the four squads of Captain Dawson’s crew was taken down. None of them died, just as Warden Locke planned.

“You...you traitor!” Distinctly, Captain Dawson could see the Lieutenant approaching him. The Lieutenant was surrounded by prisoners, but none of the prisoners seemed to have bat an eye at him. “You will burn for this! Count Lamb will burn you alive for your treason, along with your family and the rest of your traitor friends…”

The Lieutenant didn't answer. Instead, he simply glanced at the Captain’s crippled hand before letting out a cold smirk. Under the Captain’s horrified eyes, the Lieutenant set his foot on the limb before pressing down, crushing the already maimed limb against the solid ground.

The Captain screamed as the Lieutenant grinned in satisfaction.

“Oh, and don’t bother hoping for help from your other squads, sir.” As the Captain’s screams quieted down a bit, the Lieutenant smirked and struck a blow to whatever hope he had left. “They have their own issues. In fact, two of them are down already. Hmmm...it seems like the third one is putting up a much better fight than you and your sorry lot.”

The Captain wasn’t too sure of what the traitor meant until he heard distinct sounds of gunshots coming from over the walls. It seemed like one of the other squads had gotten the chance to open fire on their attackers. Very well. Perhaps they would be able to turn the tide of whatever was going on here? Unfortunately, before he could say anything, the Lieutenant kicked him right in the belly and drew another cry of anguish from his lips.

“Of course, that is not your concern, sir. What is your concern…” The Lieutenant turned to one of the prisoners, who handed him a dagger. “is something I want you to say…”