Prisoners of the wilds

Into the Ruins

"I am running out of time," Marcus Vance muttered, his hands moving frantically as he ripped the heavy loose brick out of the prison wall.

The moment the stone slid free, the starlight-blue vortex flared to life, illuminating the damp corners of Cell 44 with its brilliant, cosmic glow. Marcus did not hesitate for a single second. The thought of the royal Inquisitor arriving at dawn to tear apart his mind was enough to make his blood run cold. He took a sharp breath, dove straight through the shimmering blue rift, and let the portal pull him away from the human world once again.

He tumbled out onto the glowing green moss of the Wilds, his enhanced eyes adjusting instantly to the vibrant, bioluminescent jungle. He did not stop to admire the giant trees or the massive cosmic eye watching from the upper sky. He sprinted through the dense brush, his legs moving with incredible speed and power, driving him deeper into the unexplored territories of this dangerous parallel realm. He needed to find something, anything, that could shield his mind from a psychic mage.

After pushed through a thick wall of glowing vines, Marcus broke into a massive clearing. Rising from the earth before him was a breathtaking structure, an ancient, half-buried temple constructed entirely from polished black obsidian stone.

"What is this place?" Marcus breathed, slowing his pace as he approached the towering structure.

He walked up to the massive obsidian doors, which were covered in complex, glowing blue runes. He pressed his palms against the smooth, cold stone. The moment his skin made contact, the runes flashed with brilliant light, and the doors groaned loudly, swinging inward on their own to reveal a wide, echoing corridor.

Marcus stepped inside, his footsteps echoing in the vast silence. As he walked down the hall, his eyes caught the massive, detailed murals carved into the polished walls. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the pictures in utter disbelief. The carvings showed ancient knights wearing his exact family crest, commanding armies of glowing soldiers and ruling over this entire parallel world with absolute authority.

"This makes no sense," Marcus said aloud, his voice trembling in the empty hall. "My father told me we were just a noble house from the kingdom. He said we discovered this portal by accident."

He stepped closer to read the ancient inscriptions beneath the murals, using his new, enhanced vision to decipher the old text. Marcus gasped as the true meaning of the carvings became clear.

"We did not discover this world," Marcus whispered, his heart hammering against his chest. "We were originally exiled from it. My ancestors were rulers here, but they were overthrown. The prison back on Earth, Blackwood Penitentiary, it was not built to keep criminals in. It was built as a massive cage around our portal to keep the Vance family from ever returning to claim our throne."

Marcus shook his head, his mind spinning from the massive revelation. "Thomas must know this. That is why he wants our bloodline."

He shook off the shock, forcing himself to focus on his immediate survival. He walked deeper into the central chamber of the obsidian temple. In the middle of the room sat a grand, elevated stone sarcophagus. Rested securely upon the stone lid was a beautiful, gleaming silver amulet shaped in the likeness of a roaring dragon. The jewelry hummed with a strange, palpable energy, radiating a faint mist into the cool air.

Marcus reached out his hand, his fingers closing around the silver chain. "Please let this be what I need."

The very moment he lifted the amulet and slipped it around his neck, a sharp wave of intense, freezing cold washed over his head. It did not hurt; instead, it felt as though an impenetrable, solid wall of thick frost had formed around his conscious thoughts, completely locking away his memories and shielding his mind from any outside intrusion.

"It works," Marcus laughed, clutching the silver dragon tightly against his chest. "No mind-reader will ever pierce through this ice. I am safe."

However, his relief was cut short by a sharp, loud mechanical click that echoed from beneath the stone sarcophagus. Marcus froze. He had triggered an ancient security mechanism by removing the relic.

Before he could react, the massive obsidian entrance doors slammed shut with a deafening crash that shook the entire temple structure.

"No, no, no," Marcus shouted, sprinting back toward the entrance and slamming his enhanced fists against the polished black stone. The walls didn't even vibrate. The obsidian was far too dense, resisting his new physical strength completely.

Suddenly, a loud hiss erupted from dozens of hidden vents along the base of the chamber walls. A dense, swirling green gas began to pour rapidly into the room, spreading across the floor like a toxic wave. Marcus sniffed the air and immediately began to cough violently. The sweet, sickly smell hit his throat, and a terrifying sensation followed. His legs grew incredibly heavy, his arms stiffened, and his muscles completely refused to obey his commands. It was a fast-acting, paralyzing poison.

Marcus stumbled backward, his knees buckling as he crashed heavily onto the cold stone floor. He clawed at his throat, his lungs burning as the green gas filled the entire room, cutting off his oxygen.

"I cannot die here," Marcus choked out, his vision blurring into darkness as the paralysis took complete hold of his body. "Not like this."

As his eyes began to close, a hidden stone panel in the ceiling directly above the sarcophagus slid open with a soft scrape. A sleek, agile figure dropped gracefully down from the darkness, landing on her feet right in the center of the toxic room.

Marcus blinked weakly through the green fog. The newcomer was a young girl with striking silver hair, dressed in tight leather scout armor. She didn't seem affected by the gas at all. She spun around, her eyes locking onto Marcus, and immediately raised a heavy, loaded steel crossbow, pointing the iron bolt directly at his face.

"Do not move a muscle, thief," the silver-haired girl commanded, her voice sharp, cold, and deadly.