The capital of the Empire, Drose, was a beautiful, bright, bustling city, but with a horrible dark side.

The justice system was anything but just, and worse of all, among the prisons, one was not like the others. The dungeon had a terrible reputation and a name that brought goosebumps to those who heard it. Howling Abyss is what they called it. Or just Abyss for short, as those that went in, never came back out.

A slight exaggeration, of course, but the legends weren't far from the truth. However, the Howling Abyss wasn't for the common criminals, thieves, pickpockets, and such. No, the dungeon was for political enemies and those found conspiring against the Emperor.

Rebels, deserters, and similar folk also made their homes inside, never to see the light of day again. Only their screams could sometimes be heard during a quiet night as they were used for hard labor, perverted pleasures of the guards, sickening alchemical experiments, or straight-up torture.

The building itself didn't look like much on the surface. The yard around the entrance was covered with a layer of gravel and surrounded by a three-meter tall circular wall with guards constantly patrolling on and below it. The guardhouse in the middle was a megalithic stone structure that stored only the most important of documents as well as the record of every prisoner currently inside.

And those papers had to be updated weekly, despite rarely anyone entering, and nobody leaving.

The guardhouse served just as an entrance into the underground, which was where the holding cells and the rest of the dungeon actually laid. With a single point of entry through the guardhouse and guard quarters, escape was practically impossible.

For added safety, a straight shaft went from the guard's chambers many meters underground, all the way up to the surface from where all the provisions were lowered.

The well-like structure was less than one meter wide and had a completely smooth surface, making any attempts at climbing out quite difficult if not impossible to pull off. A metal grate was also added on top for a good measure, and, of course, it could be only opened from the outside, and required two people coordinating to do so.

Not to mention that the first layer of the dungeon was devoid of any convicts and served more as a storage, research, and torture area. The various rooms branched off the main path, however that one long corridor was the only way in and out of the bottom layers, meaning that anyone escaping would basically have to kill many dozens of guards before even having a chance at tasting freedom.

Many heavy steel doors separated sections of the corridor and had arrow slits through which the inmates could be shot if they tried anything funny.

And even if somehow, someone managed to go through all that, there were a hundred or so guards waiting for them on the surface, with the reinforcements of thousands of city soldiers ready to help squash the rebellion in an instant.

There was once an attempt at breaching the dungeon walls. It happened decades ago before the current Emperor even took the throne. Somehow the entire population of prisoners escaped their restraints at the same time and forced their way through to the surface by sheer force of will.

What waited for them there was a rain of arrows and magic, turning the desperate men into a puddle of blood and guts. The leader and the mastermind behind the attack, as well as his helpers trying to liberate the inmates, were later publicly flayed alive to serve as a warning to others.

Since then, no attempts of attack or escape involving the Howling Abyss were ever made, and it became widely accepted that, once you entered past those heavy metal doors, and unless otherwise ordered by the Emperor himself, you would meet your end there, in the darkness.

The second and third floors of the Howling Abyss were much different. There, prison cells and torture chambers were carved into the solid black rock, with metal doors and steel prison bars keeping the guests there nice and cozy.

And rather than one straight line like the floor above, the dungeon here branched out like a web, spreading out in all directions and forming a maze to befuddle and confuse any unwanted guests. Not that there were any.

Everybody was welcome to enter the Howling Abyss, but few had the privilege to exit.

Murik Woods was one of those people that were more than welcome in this place.

Since his childhood, he dreamed of joining the army and serving the Empire. And when he reached the youthful age of 16, his dreams came true. His father, a small-time soldier in the army, put in a good word with his superiors, which helped Murik get accepted as a recruit.

His following five years were spent away from home, training to be a soldier. Despite the grueling, back-breaking exercise, he was happy. His strength increased, his body developed, he found himself a girl among the medical staff which he often had to visit, and made friends among his comrades.

Life was good! Extremely hard and painful, but good! Everything was so simple back then. Even if he got injured, broke his bones, dislocated a jaw, or lacerated his flesh, they would put him back together and he would be as good as new! Well, almost. The scars still remained, but they were a reminder of good times.

Murik Woods sighed. The scars he was seeing now were a painful reminder of what could have been if he had chosen a different path. Now he was in shackles, chained to a wall of cracked black stone somewhere deep, deep underground.

Traitor of the Empire they called him. A deserter, others said. He didn't even say goodbye to his family before they locked him into this shithole and tossed away the key. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

It would be nice if they really tossed away the key, at least then he wouldn't get tortured anymore. That was the worst part of this place. Mindless torture, inflicting pain for its own sake. They didn't even do it to prove a point or to extract information! These sick bastards did it just because they were bored.

Or some, he preferred not to think about them, had disgustingly twisted fantasies that involved torture, screaming, and blood. Lots and lots of it.

Fucking perverts! Murik wished for nothing else but to have the opportunity to rip out their throat. If he just had someone to help him fight, they could surely overpower one of the guards at least! However, those wishes were nothing but mere fantasy.

People locked in here had long lost any will to fight, some even their will to live. Like his cellmate, for example. The man came in beaten and was roughly chained to a wall, but back then he still had that spark in his eyes, that burning flame of hatred and anger.

And as Murik Woods watched it diminish day by day until it was eventually snuffed out, he felt a different type of pain in his heart. A pain that came with acceptance.

Some people would scream, cuss, and shout for hours, some would last longer, even days… There was one that kept going on, screaming, thrashing around, and cursing for weeks, but eventually, they all turned quiet.

It would always start the same. Loud at first, be it sobbing or screaming, but eventually, they all ended the same, mute voices, empty eyes, and absolutely no will to live. Living corpses, just waiting to die.

And imagine his surprise when there came one that broke all norms of the dungeon.

The first thing he noticed was that, instead of the prisoners' tattered clothes, this guy was practically naked. He was also missing a hand, possibly an old wound, but not necessarily since he was bleeding all over, and he had three Void Cuffs! Yes, three instead of just one like every other prisoner!

Just one would drain all your Mana in less than a minute, now imagine having three!

Murik had to rub his eyes to confirm they weren't playing tricks on him in the dim light of an Earthen Blood lamp. They were not, he saw it all correctly. And while he had more than a meter long chains, allowing him to sit, the man was basically locked onto the wall. With even a metal ring around his neck!

He would have felt pity for him if it wasn't for the way the newcomer reacted.

As soon as the guards bringing him down here left, he gave a sigh of relief, mumbled something, leaned his head to one side, and died!

Oh, wait, no… He just fell asleep. In that uncomfortable position… Must have been really tired, especially since the entire time, he didn't say a peep.

So imagine Murik's surprise when he saw what happened the following day...