An abandoned school.
A white luxury car rolled in. Three black SUVs followed close behind.
Armed guards stepped out first. Black suits. Dark glasses. Cold faces. They secured the perimeter in seconds.
One of them opened the rear door of the white car.
A man stepped out.
White classic shoes touched the pavement.
Victor stood there in an immaculate white suit, a cigarette resting between his lips.
He didn't smile.
He didn't blink.
"Where is he?!" Victor snapped at one of the guards.
"Maybe he's on his way, sir," the guard replied.
Victor checked his watch, irritation flashing across his face.
"Tch… He's wasting my time."
Headlights cut through the silence.
A black car pulled up a few meters away. It stopped.
The rear door opened slowly.
A man stepped out.
Calm.
He adjusted the collar of his dark suit. Picked up his briefcase without rushing. Black sunglasses hid his eyes. His skin was pale… almost gray. Unnaturally so.
Suspicious.
He lifted his head toward Victor.
A faint smile. Not friendly. Not hostile. Just… empty.
He started walking.
Victor's jaw tightened.
"DARKVIL… Is there a problem with my merchandise?"
"I'm not here about our business," DARKVIL replied smoothly. "You look tense. Did something happen?"
"No… Why did you want to meet?" Victor shot back.
DARKVIL chuckled softly.
"Ha… I missed seeing your face. Recently, one of our generals—Vega—brought us information. Our enemies, the werewolves, have received help from some mutants. They destroyed one of our mines. It's causing… complications."
"And what does that have to do with me?" Victor's eyes sharpened. "Do you suspect me? You know I only imprison mutants for gambling."
"If we suspected you," DARKVIL said calmly, "you wouldn't be standing in front of me right now."
A beat.
"I wanted to ask… Have any mutants escaped from you recently?"
"No," Victor replied coldly. "No one escapes my system."
"Good." DARKVIL nodded. "Then we need a small favor. Help us search for these mutants. If you find anything, you inform me."
"And what do I get?" Victor asked flatly.
"Whatever you want. A shipment of vampires for your matches… or money."
Victor exhaled smoke.
"Deal. I'll contact some friends at the military. We'll get assistance for the search."
DARKVIL handed him the briefcase.
"A small gift. Consider it a partial advance."
"Thank you," Victor said.
He opened it.
Stacks of cash.
DARKVIL extended his hand with that same faint smile.
"It's a pleasure doing business with someone like you."
"The feeling is mutual," Victor replied.
DARKVIL returned to his car. Slid into the back seat.
The engine roared. Tires screeched. Dust exploded into the air.
Victor stood there in silence, his guards behind him. His eyes never moved from the departing cars.
"Sir, shall we leave? We'll be late for the next match," a guard said.
"Yes. Let's go." Victor flicked away his cigarette. "Call General Ryan Ashford. Tell him I need him for something important."
---
Inside the prison.
Diego sat in the corner of his dark cell.
The cell door opened slowly with a metallic screech.
"Food time," a guard said, standing at the door with another guard holding a baton.
Diego stepped out.
They escorted him down a long corridor. White walls. White cell doors. It looked more like a medical facility than a prison.
They entered a massive hall.
Noise. Chaos. Shouting.
Orange uniforms everywhere.
Prisoners lined up for food, then sat at long metal tables.
Diego walked forward slowly, eyes scanning everything.
He grabbed a metal tray and joined the line.
His gaze moved yp. Cameras in every corner. Guards at every door.
The line shuffled forward.
Behind him stood a white-skinned prisoner with a thick white beard.
The man leaned close to Diego's ear.
"You're new. Haven't seen you before… Your fear is obvious. Relax. Or you'll draw attention."
Diego's eyes widened.
"From who?"
"The other inmates. Don't show fear here… or you'll become their next meal."
Suddenly—shouting.
Three prisoners attacked another one. They beat him down. Kicked him repeatedly. Then left him bleeding on the floor.
"Why aren't the guards interfering?!" Diego whispered, shocked.
"That's their policy," the prisoner said calmly. "They don't interfere during inmate breaks."
He looked at Diego.
"In a place like this… you need friends."
Diego's heart pounded hard against his ribs. He forced himself to breathe. To look normal.
A worker dropped food onto his tray.
Diego followed the white-bearded prisoner to a table. A few of the man's friends sat there.
Diego sat silently.
He ate. Slowly.
His eyes kept moving.
This was hell.
He knew these were criminals Victor gathered from prisons all over the world for his matches.
The white-bearded prisoner started talking.
"I was in a prison in Bulgaria. Forty-two years. No parole. For Murder and Drug trafficking.
"Lucky me, I won the lottery to fight in master Victor's matches."
"Lucky?" Diego looked at him sharply. "Why do you think you're lucky?"
The man stopped eating.
He stared at Diego
"You don't know? If you win enough matches, you get released."
"So that's how they make you fight…" Diego thought.
"What do you mean?" the man frowned. "Everyone knows this. Many have won and been freed. We're facing life sentences or execution. This is our chance."
"It's a lie," Diego said firmly. "They send you against mutants. Your chances are zero and Death is certain.
"I've seen the matches. Every prisoner who 'disappeared' died in the arena. No one survives."
Silence fell over the table.
The prisoner and his friends looked shaken.
"You're not like us," the man said slowly. "How did you get here?"
"I hacked the place where they used to keep you," Diego said bitterly. "They caught me. I was stupid."
The prisoner's face changed.
"So that's why they moved us to this prison.
"Damn it…" He slammed his fist on the table. His breathing grew heavier. "We're walking toward certain death."
"There's one solution," Diego said quietly. "We escape. No matter what."
"Escape?!" the prisoner hissed. "Are you insane? Security here is tight."
"I hacked their system before. I can do it again," Diego replied. "I just need time. I need to understand the layout. Then I'll make a plan."
"That's impossible."
Suddenly—a loud bell echoed through the hall.
"What's that?" Diego asked.
"End of meal time," the prisoner replied, lifting his tray.
They returned the metal trays through a kitchen window.
As Diego leaned forward, he glanced through the window.
Across the way… another hall. Movement inside.
Interesting.
The prisoners formed a long line. Guards escorted them one by one back to their cells.
Each inmate had their cell number printed on their orange uniform.
When it was Diego's turn, two guards walked him back.
As he moved through the corridor, he carefully studied the cameras. The wiring running along the ceiling and walls.
He noticed something important.
The cells weren't opened with keys.
They were electronic.
Controlled from a monitoring room.
Back inside his cell, he sat down.
He thought.
Then his eyes lit up.
"I have an idea… It's risky."
---
Hours later, the bell rang again.
Yard time.
Prisoners were led into a large courtyard. There were small fields—soccer, basketball—and workout equipment in one corner.
Diego leaned against a wall, thinking.
The yard buzzed with movement. Some inmates played basketball. Others lifted weights.
Diego walked toward a corner.
His steps felt heavy.
He sensed danger everywhere.
Then he saw him.
The white-bearded prisoner from the cafeteria.
"Hey! You!" the man waved.
Diego walked toward him, relieved to see a familiar face.
"I was looking for you," Diego said.
"What's your name? I forgot to ask."
"Diego. And you?"
"Todor," the man replied. "So… Have you thought about joining our group? Like I said, you'll need friends."
"Yes… Actually, I've been thinking about something else." Diego leaned closer. "I have an escape plan. I'll need your help."
Todor went silent. He understood the weight of that decision.
"Think carefully," Diego pressed. "There's no better option."
"What's your plan?" Todor asked.
They sat in a quiet corner of the yard.
"When they took me back to my cell," Diego said, "I noticed the wiring. The cameras and the door systems all run through one network across the ceilings and corridor walls. I think everything is controlled from one central monitoring room."
"Whaaaat… How are we supposed to reach the monitoring room?" Todor asked.
"We're not," Diego said calmly. "We just need a distraction. And something small and sharp."
Todor stared at him.
"How would that help us escape?!"
"Listen carefully. When we're sent back to our cells, each of us takes something sharp—from the bed, the toilet, anything. Break off a small piece.
"Then you fake illness. Or collapse."
Todor listened, tense.
"They'll probably send one guard. You take him down fast. You'll have about two minutes to cut the wire network in the corner of your corridor."
"I like it," Todor admitted. "But I doubt a whole system shuts down from one point."
"It won't," Diego said. "You'll disable the cameras and open the cells in your corridor only.
But once we're out—me and your friends—we'll do the same in our corridors."
Todor's eyes widened.
"Simultaneous sabotage across multiple wings… That'll release a lot of prisoners. Chaos."
He paused.
"But that doesn't guarantee escape. Victor's guards aren't amateurs."
"I know," Diego replied. "That's why I'm heading to Wing A. The mutant wing. Heavy security.
"If we disrupt the network there and free the mutants… control collapses. No matter how many guards they have.
"The chaos will give us time to run."
Silence.
Todor hesitated.
"What's wrong?" Diego asked. "You're scared."
"This plan is insanely risky," Todor said. "We don't know how many guards they'll send. We don't know if the wires are electrified."
"There's no other way," Diego said quietly. "Staying here means waiting to die. You know that."
Todor looked around the yard.
At the prisoners.
At the walls.
Then back at Diego
"Hope in this place… kills faster than knives."
He extended his hand.
"But I'm with you."