Looking back on things now, it's almost terrifying how fast we adapted to Caracal's little cave. Maybe it was because we complied knowing there was a lifeline out there, the little access to sunlight making the time start to fly by, or how disturbing this all felt back at basic. Either way, weeks agonizingly crawled by into months, all blurring together in a dreadful routine.

Jasmine and I got woken up in increasingly embarrassing ways to work at dawn or dusk in nothing but our underwear and some rags. Whether it be those dreadful cats hammering away at our cells or getting hosed down, we would get dragged out with the other "prisoners."

Despite his earlier confidence, we were the only soldiers Asad ambushed, but not the first victims. On every morning walkout, I had to see the eyes of dozens of runaways, refugees, or simply other broken natives. All of them looked like they had the fight beaten out of them ages ago. A fate that we refused to accept.

After the depressing walkthrough, we'd get caroled like cattle towards various tasks. Whether it be stitching together their ripped fabric, packaging their drugs, or storing away their kegs of booze, we worked until the next shift came in an 8-hour cycle. Get caught napping, sleeping, stealing, or simply not putting in the effort, and you get met with a penalty that either sends you to sleep hungry, beaten, or worse.

You can only obtain any level of perks to contributing special "favors" involving sex, organ transplant, or snitching on fellow inmates. Unfortunately, under Asad's rule, these factors ran with peak efficiency, making a measly 30 soldiers seem like a hundred, thus creating an impressive operation that boiled over into a solid stew of bad.

Despite his rare appearances inside his base, his presence was felt everywhere. Yet, despite all these challenges, Jasmine somehow never seemed to fail me. Whether gathering a new valuable piece of info or scavenging a helpful tool, she always brings another glimmer of hope, especially during our nightly brainstorms.

"So what does the thing look like again? We only get one shot at this," I said blatantly.

"It's a beacon, about the size of a small medal. It's a pretty thin and squared shape. All you have to do is enter a six-digit code forwards and backward, a small button should open up, and all you have to do is press it for exactly three seconds, nothing more, nothing less. Hopefully, the whole thing should still be in the thick-covered journal I kept it in, along with my secret stash of rations. We just need to find where they kept it, if at all," Jasmine said hurriedly.

"It's in Asad's trophy room," I replied confidently.

"We still don't know if that's 100% true. Or when he would even be available."

"I've heard enough of their banter to know they have one. They practically salivate over it when Asad's on his long treks. It's more than that, though," I said coldly.

"What do you mean more?" Jasmine said.

"You didn't get the best of the look of things back then, but the way Asad talked to me was intentional. He deliberately shoved that dead body on me, made his grand entrance heard, and looked me dead in the eyes while he strangled you. It wasn't about some simple integration. That bastard wanted me to be afraid, to know he was in control. He would want us to see our possessions from a cage," I said as I started shakingly balling up my fists.

Jasmine then immediately grabbed my hand and reassured me while saying.

"It's a valid deduction Sarah, the type only the smartest person I know could make. But like you said before, we only get one shot. Maybe if we can wait another week or two, maybe-"

"It's been six already, Jasmine! How much longer do you expect me to wait?!" I snapped back.

Surprised, Jasmine furrowed her brow, surprised as I kept up my spillage of emotion.

"I see his face every time I sleep. His smile haunts me until I wake up. And when I do and see your face, I remind myself again that it's my fault we're in the first place. Because I was too scared and weak," I say with tears.

Jasmine then softened up again, immediately bringing me closer for a loving embrace. Once again, holding another loving embrace.

"I've been in worse scrapes than this, in places that make this dungeon look quaint. The only reason I ever survived them was to go with the flow. Accept that in this whole wide world, I can do very little. Given how much you worry, there is no time like the present. Sarah, I don't blame you for what you did, it's a fucked up situation, but I'm glad you're with me," she said somberly.

Through my tears, Jasmine comforted me further as she slyly stated.

"Hey, when we get out of here. What are you going to?" she said happily.

"You ask this every night," I say, slightly annoyed.

"The first thing I'd do is go to a spa. Used to hate going there, but it's looking immaculate now. Then you know, I got hit up some Korean BBQ right after since whatever slop they have here is clearly not cutting it. Next, my inner cinephile says we hit every bad rom-com movie we've missed. From there-," she said while trailing off.

At that point, she kept going on, listing her favorite things. Then, like all the times before, softly put me to sleep like a lullaby, in silent admiration of a strength I could never have. If I could forgive and move on, I don't think I would have ever been the Paladin. So while my body lulled to sleep, my mind raced, obsessing over the weakness Asad pulled out. Something that I would spend the rest of my life covering up.

Days later, I stuck to Jasmine's advice, surveying the area for two weeks till we got a better idea of what surrounded the trophy room. During each turn of our 8-hour shift, we passed through a different row of prison cells into a similar-looking workstation. Through that, I could memorize the number and ratio of Caracals to prisoners, along with certain patterns.

Like how in the sewing station, not only were we closest to the room, but security was at its most relaxed, leaving an opening that we took full advantage of. During our 8-hour shift, we get a thirty-minute recess directly in the middle to get us some rest and "relive" ourselves, usually accompanied by a single guard.

An opportunity Jasmine decided to take, along with several other prisoners. Leaving me to wait for a tense couple of minutes, prepping myself up for the hardest part of the plan. Amidst my exhausted frame, a cool sweat formed around me, nearly clammering for the fateful pin to drop. One slip-up was all I needed to turn this entire ordeal sour.

Before I went crazy with anticipation, Jasmine finally went ahead with her part of the plan. From personal experience having Jasmine in a range of alcohol was a bad idea. It activates her inner arsonist. Judging from what little Arabic I knew and the bright flashes I saw, she must have gotten a good blaze going. Instantly the seven guards watching us shrunk down to two.

And amid so many rapidly switching bodies, I took my chance. While it was a far cry from my current covert escapades, Jasmine and Asad proved to be great foundations in the art of stealth. With slippery speed and subtlety in this pinnacle movement, I deadened all forms of my presence, constricting any unnecessary movement to snatch my lifesaver.

The Caracals favor speed and efficiency above all else to keep this machine running. Meaning that every member had keys to every cell and room on their satchel till now. From there, I didn't waste a single second more, vanishing amongst the crowd to make my way towards Asad's trophy room. Frantically I raced across the hallways, slightly delighted at the first taste of freedom I'd had in months.

Which only fueled my desperate sprint until I hit my destination, signaled by the large steel door. I shuffled through the seemingly endless amount of keys, trying each one out and failing.Finally, upon the seventh failure, I practically wanted to unleash every curse word I had, only to succeed upon the eighth try finally. My heart almost welled up then and there as I saw our potential ticked home creak open. Finally, a glimmer of hope would see be snuffed out.