​Todd squeezed with everything he had left, ignoring the white-hot fire screaming through his own stitched flesh. He cut off the oxygen to the man's brain, holding the grip with a terrifying, calculated precision until the nurse’s limbs finally went entirely slack. The man’s eyes rolled back, his body becoming a heavy, lifeless weight in Todd’s arms as he drifted into instant unconsciousness.​Todd lowered the unconscious man gently to the floor, ensuring his head didn't strike the hard concrete. Working with frantic, trembling hands, Todd quickly stripped the crisp, white clinical uniform off the nurse’s body. He dragged his own shirt off, grimacing as a line of fresh blood began to seep through his gauze, and threw the nurse’s white jacket over his shoulders, buttoning it up to his chin. He took off his canvas cap, tossing it into the corner with the flowers, and smoothed down his sweat-matted hair.​When he stepped out of Room 28 a minute later, he was entirely disguised as a male

​James didn't respond. He simply stared at the man for a long, quiet moment, memorizing the lines of his face, before stepping down onto the gravel. He fell into stride behind the other nineteen prisoners, his head held high despite the chains.​They were marched into the central yard, a vast expanse of dirt and cracked asphalt enclosed by internal wire fences. As they walked, the existing inmate population—hundreds of men dressed in worn, faded clothes—lined the fences. They stood in clusters, their eyes locking onto the new arrivals like vultures analyzing a fresh carcass. Some grinned wickedly; others watched with cold, calculating indifference. James could feel the weight of their gaze, but he kept his eyes locked straight ahead, refusing to show a single tremor of vulnerability.​They entered the intake center, a large, drafty hall that smelled intensely of industrial disinfectant. At the far end stood a long wooden counter where three guards were sorting stacks of brightly color

Two miles away from the quiet tarmac of the private airfield, the urban landscape collapsed into a maze of narrow, poorly lit streets. The concrete buildings here were weathered and old, their walls stained by decades of exhaust fumes and coastal humidity.​Todd walked with his head down, the collar of his faded canvas jacket turned up against the damp night air. His boots clicked rhythmically against the cracked pavement of the sidewalk, a lonely sound in the empty neighborhood. In his right hand, he held his phone tightly against his ear, his fingers trembling slightly from a mixture of exhaustion and raw, underlying dread.​The line hissed with long-distance static before a sharp, bitter voice cut through the receiver.​"Why the hell are you calling me, and how the fuck did you get my number?" Tidder snapped, her words coming fast and sharp, dripping with an immediate, defensive hostility. Before Todd could even draw a breath to answer, she continued, her voice rising in volume. "I

​“Show me,” James said, taking a deliberate step forward until he was mere inches from his cellmate.​The man didn't flinch. “Once the morning bell rings, you will be served a special meal. And it is going to be your last meal,” the inmate replied, his voice dropping to a low, clinical murmur. “Make sure you eat well. And then, you die.”​James’s eyes narrowed, his gaze boring into the man’s unmarked face. “And what about you?”​“You don't have to worry about me. I will be right next to you,” the man said, a faint, dangerous shadow of a smile playing on his lips. “And once we are dead, they will transport us out of here as corpses. Within twenty minutes, we will rise again.”​James stared at him, his mind calculating the immense, lethal risk of the gamble. “Is that all?”​“No. It’s just the beginning,” the man said flatly. “You will understand everything once you wake up.”​Before James could press for more answers, the heavy mechanical morning bell tore through the cellblock. The ech

​“I don't give a damn about who she's ,” James spat, his voice vibrating with a raw, volatile heat that shook the silence of the cavernous hall. He stood tall, his towering, uncovered frame radiating pure defiance despite his vulnerability. “You want respect? Then let me leave.”​Father didn’t blink. His ancient face remained as unyielding as carved granite. Slowly, his sharp gaze shifted from James toward the woman standing at the base of the dais.​“Lyssa. Excuse us,” Father murmured.​“Okay,” Lyssa replied, her voice smooth but tight with operational urgency. She tapped the screen of her tablet, tilting the interface toward the old man. “But we have located Tidder.”​She extended a single, black-gloved finger, pointing directly at a pulsing coordinates matrix grid blinking on the digital map. “She's right here.”​The name struck James like a physical blow. The anger in his chest instantly morphed into a desperate, frantic panic. He took a heavy, lunging step toward the steps of the