The Black Pit

The chill of the cell was penetrating. It was just cold enough to be uncomfortable, not enough to ever be truly enough to cause harm. It was made so by design. One couldn't have the prisoners getting sick, or dying in the worst case. This was the place for those who were far more important, even if it might not seem that way from the way they were being treated. After all, this prison was designed to hold the powerful and influential, those who had more use alive than dead.

Originally, the Black Pit was used to keep hostages of the Kingdom it resided in. The Kingdom of Ellise, which was one of the more powerful factions in the core. It had a strong economy, as most great factions had to have, it had territories that held precious resources and had an entire industry dedicated to extracting and processing it. They were wealthy, and with such wealth usually came corruption.

The Kingdom of Ellise's brand of corruption was particular indeed, it was drugs. Alchemical concoctions, herbal mixes, everything and anything that one could desire. They had made a mistake, early in their Kingdom's creation, and hadn't stomped the corruption out. By the time it became a problem, it was too big to be easily dealt with. Criminal Classers from other factions moved their operations to Ellise, they grew more powerful, ingrained themselves into the kingdom, so much that most of the kingdom was in some way or another connected to the drug trade, and it profited from it. Clean fronts gave the criminals a way to present themselves to the populace as good people, even though most knew that they had more... Nefarious business. Ultimately, few cared, and why would they? When safer versions of their drugs helped the kingdom's soldiers fight for longer, when they had pills that could stave off disease. When easily accessible herbal teas could turn nightly terrors into blissful dreams. And if the Drug Lords had released scentless toxins in the air that caused the nightly terrors in the first place? Well, what proof of that was there other than hearsay?

The King of Ellise was forced to make a hard choice. The Kingdom got in bed with the Drug Lords, and they both prospered. Even if they had to play an elaborate dance for the public. Arrests had to be made, of course.

The Black Pit was the place where they sent those caught. Outwardly it looked like what its name suggested it was. A dark pit dug into the ground, an old quarry, so deep that people at the bottom looked like ants to those above. The Black Pit was not at all what it seemed. It had been a luxurious resort, a place filled with all the amenities one could desire. A place where you sent terrible criminals to make them pay, see the error of their way. Or at least that was what the populace thought, the rumors of its true purpose were just that, rumors. The Black Pit was a fortress, it was obviously made so that no escape was ever possible, except that its creators made it so that one couldn't simply walk in and execute a rival, if one had a scheduled stay.

A fortress, yes, it had to be hard to get in or out, both for practical reasons, and to keep up the pretenses.

At least, that was what the Black Pit was imagined as. It was no longer such a thing. When the core erupted into war following the arrival of the Dome Monster armies, the Kingdom of Ellise was not spared the turmoil. Wars with neighbors had weakened the ruling family enough that the Drug Lords saw a chance to take the reins. And who could blame them? They saw the opportunity and they jumped at it, by the heavens, they even succeeded.

Maleatus could appreciate a good con, especially when it pays off. Too bad that the Infinite Realm rarely lets people enjoy the fruits of their labors. It always finds a way to screw your shit up. The source of the forenamed screwing came in the form of the Exalted Empire who swooped in, put the monsters down and stomped the Drug Lords into the ground.

Maleatus wondered how it happened, he didn't know everything. Only the stories that he overheard from the guards and other prisoners. He knew the gist of it.

A giant metal ship flew over the Black Pit, and the prisoners inside rejoiced, thinking that they were saved, that they would get their kingdom back. Except that they ended up having the Drug Lords joining them in the cells. The Herald apparently didn't think the leaders that had compromised and worked with criminals were worthy of ruling. Not that any of that was illegal in the Kingdom of Ellise, but when you had the bigger sword, or a flying ship that dwarfed mountains in this case, the laws didn't really matter. The Exalted Empire had expanded their influence, and they had taken the territories for their own. The Empire's laws were the only thing that mattered.

So, they turned the Black Pit into the exact thing it had been advertised as. They updated the systems, put in new guards, and turned what was once a leisurely stay into something very much approaching a nightmare. A place where they could drop people without having to ship them all the way back to the Exalted Empire proper. People like Maleatus, who had the gall to interfere in the plans of his betters. At least according to the Herald of the Machine who was very angry with Maleatus.

Not that he had any right to be, of course. Maleatus had won his spoils fair and square, the man was just a sore loser. One with the might of an empire behind him, unfortunately for Mal, and his luck ran out when he was ambushed and subdued by a superior force.

He reached up to the collar around his neck and scratched, trying to get one of his claws in between to reach a point where a patch of fur was giving him enough issues to keep him from falling asleep. All the little inconveniences, all the little things that were small on their own, built up to make his imprisonment a truly miserable experience. Like the bright light that turned on every few minutes and washed across the his cell, powerful enough to blast through his eyelids, the low tones that were just barely inside his hearing range, and the bed that vibrated in intervals.

All of it put together was pushing Mal to the brink of losing his mind. He might not need couldn't even remember the last time he had a good night's sleep.

In frustration, he let out a groan, that quickly turned into a yell of pure aggravation. "Argh!!! Give one moment of peace you stupid fuckers!"

"Why do you persist in these foolish endeavors? Your words will not change your situation, vermin," a voice echoed from the cell next to him.

"Shut it! Pardon me," Mal cleared his throat. "Shut it, your magnificent majesty."

"Your sarcasm will not avail you," the King, or rather the former King of Ellise and the source of most everything that Mal knew about the Black Pit, spoke. "You will spend the rest of your miserable life in here."

"And you will spend yours right here next to me," Mal threw back. The king was an annoying fucker, the absolute worst conversationalist. Somehow, the sheer arrogance of his entire being seeped through his words and bothered Mal immensely. Especially since he had probably not even reached the peak of his focus, leadership Classes were harder to advance.

"I can see why you ended up in here," the King said. "Your impudence knows no bounds."

Mal sneered at the wall, then had to close his eyes and turn away as the lights on the ceiling turned on and blasted him in the face, sending a sharp pain stabbing through his skull.

"Ugh," he grimaced, turning his head to the wall. His bed started to vibrate, and Mal started hitting his head against the wall. Thump, thump, thump, THUMP.

Mal paused, that last hit was a bit stronger than he expected. He glanced at the wall, but didn't see any damage to it. His bed was still vibrating, and it was getting stronger. It took him a few seconds to realize that it wasn't his bed that was vibrating, but his entire cell.

"You feel that over there?" The King asked.

"I sure do," Mal answered, just as the ground shook again. Then he heard sounds that he easily identified as the turrets firing, yelling, the blasts of fire from the mech thrusters, groans of metal. It was getting closer.

"The prison is under attack," the King said. "My people, they've finally come for me, ha, hahaha!" He exclaimed, he had never really lost faith that he would be free. Perhaps that was why he continued to be such an ass even though their situations were the same.

The fighting outside was gowning more intense, screams filled the air, then the lights flickered, alongside all the systems put in place to keep the cells secure. Mal saw the light leave the arrays, and knew that the power was gone. This was his chance to escape, he jumped forward at the thick cell door and slammed into it with his shoulder first. The collar around his neck surprised his power, but there was a limit of just how much stats it could take away from him.

The door shook, it dented slightly, but it didn't give. Mal grimaced, his shoulder hurt from the impact, and it didn't seem like he would be able to get through. Still, he didn't give up. He walked to the back of the cell, then ran forward again. He hit the door so hard that he bounced back and lost his footing, crashing to the ground.

He laid there for a moment, as the sounds from the outside turned faint. He turned his eyes to the door of his cell, some instinct that still worked despite the heavy suppression made him look. For a moment, nothing happened, and then, the door just vanished as if it had never been there in the first place. It confused him for a moment, but the sight beyond the door made him pause.

An armored figure stood there, covered in black and dark green armor wrought out of Qi that felt very familiar to him, full of fire and blood. Four swords floated behind the figure, shaped out of the same type of Qi.

The helmet crumbled away, revealing who was beneath it. Maleatus blinked as he recognized the person, though he had never spent much time with him.

"Maleatus Enis," said the Sect Head of the Twilight Melody Sect, Ryun Nacht. "Get up, we are leaving."

Maleatus grinned, it seemed like his luck had turned around after all.