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Our moment was interrupted by the clang of the prison’s morning bell.
Nova sighed, reluctance evident in her posture. “I guess it’s time.”
Reluctantly, I nodded, taking her hand and leading her to the exit.
As we walked, the slow and groggy sounds of the other prisoners waking up filled the air.
The scent of morning meals being prepared mixed with the familiar odor of sweat.
When we reached the Prize Pool, Nova turned to me, her eyes searching mine.
We didn’t need words.
Pulling her into a tight embrace, I buried my face into her hair, savoring the sensation for what could possibly be the last time.
She stepped back and waved to me as she entered the Prize Pool.
“Stay safe,” I said to her.
It was a useless wish.
With no one to watch over her, she would never be safe in this place.
I watched until she was gone from view.
No sooner had I turned around than Larn, my young and eager fighting student, rushed toward me, his usual energy amplified by what seemed like urgent news. “Ashale! You’re needed in the Supervisor’s office! Sneik has demanded an audience, and you’re required to be there!”
I stiffened.
Sneik had taken action faster than I expected.
The idea of being in the same room with him, especially after what had transpired, was unsettling.
Nova’s gaze shifted from Larn to me, her brow furrowing in confusion and concern. “Ashale? What did you do?”
I turned and marched away and said softly, unsure if Larn could hear me or not:
“What was right.”
* * *
The Supervisor’s office, with its sterile lighting and polished surfaces, couldn’t have been more different from the gritty cells of Ikmal prison.
The light reflected harshly off the panel walls, making it hard for my eyes to adjust.
Every time I entered this room, the stinging aura of antiseptic would assault my nose, and today was no exception.
It smelled like a place where nothing organic could thrive.
In the center stood Sneik, his face a canvas of bruises from our encounter.
The dark purple and blue contusions stood out starkly against his pale green skin.
His black eyes narrowed at me, full of undisguised hatred.
Beside him, the Supervisor lounged in his sleek chair, his huge frame bulging around the armrests.
A creature of habit and order, he looked incredibly bored by the entire scenario, but his post demanded he address even the most mundane disputes.
