No Matter How Bad You Think You Have It...

By morning, I finally got to experience what this prison considers breakfast.
Of course, I was accompanied by Aeris. Who at this point I wouldn’t hesitate too much to call a friend.

I glanced down at the tray in front of me. The same odd bread from before sat there, menacingly. But instead of the stew we had at lunch yesterday, there was something else, something drier. Kind of like a paste.

Aeris seemed to enjoy it, though. I think this might be the first time I’ve seen her happy. Usually, she’s either explaining the rules of this place to me or seems so worried about how I’m feeling that she doesn't act honestly with herself.

“If I recall correctly, you said custodians don’t work every day. What happens on our days off?” I asked, careful not to disrupt her meal, more the process of eating it, than the food itself.
Honestly, I think the food might be alive. But who am I to do anything about that?

“We’re free to do most anything,” she replied, pausing to take a bite, “I usually just go back to my cell and draw. But if you’d like, I could give you a quick tour of the place?”

Throughout the brief exchange, she looked up from her tray only once, and that was to sip her drink.

After a moment, I said, “Does this place not do tours normally? How do they expect their employees to navigate to their job site?”

I wasn’t really interested in the first question, I just needed to know enough to get by. As much as I was glad Aeris and I were getting along, I was preparing myself for the inevitable, being alone.

As much as I hoped otherwise, I knew better than to assume things would stay this way. Better to be safe than sorry. With that in mind, I stuffed down my fear of the food and dug in.

It wasn’t all that great...

We ate in silence until about five minutes before lunch ended. Apparently, elf-like beings must have completely different taste buds, and maybe a streak of superstition, too. Aeris always got up to leave exactly five minutes before time was up. I’d have to ask her about that sometime.

As she’d offered, we went on a kind of tour of the prison. More or less. Since the building likes to restructure itself, we ended up lost more than once. Aeris could remember where some of the entrances were at first, but their positions had shifted since we’d arrived.

Honestly, it turned out to be a tour for both of us.

Still, it was nice. Almost fun. Aeris's usual composure gave way to a quiet uncertainty that was, kind of adorable. She tried to lead, but each unfamiliar turn chipped away at her confidence. For a while, it felt light, and playful, even.

Until we stumbled into an extending hallway. At the far end, a void.

It called to me. I couldn’t explain how, only that I felt drawn to it.

“Hey, Aeris? What’s that over there? Do you know?” I didn’t look away, though I wish I had. Maybe then I’d have seen more than just what I heard.

“That’s… nothing to worry about,” she said, voice barely above a whisper, more to herself than to me. She reached out and gently tugged my sleeve, like she was trying to pull me back. I could hear her mumbling something under her breath, too quiet to catch.

I took a step forward. Then another.

Behind me, I heard her start to follow. Slowly.

It must’ve taken everything she had to stay close. My guess? She was too scared to be left alone, especially here.

As we ventured close enough to warrant saying that we were inside the void as nonsensical as that was, voices began to emerge. More memories most likely but this time they weren't mine. Although the language sounded foreign I could still make sense of what they're saying.

Come to think of it, was there a magic in place here to allow for universal communication? Regardless, the voices came in bursts, fragments of conversations that seemed to resonate with Aeris.

Slowly I began to understand why she would concern herself with understanding and acting on the emotions of others. It was all in her past, her life.

The corridor behind them was long gone now. Not twisted, not hidden, but gone. Only a low hum surrounded us, like the breath of the void itself. The air shimmered with a faint static, as if time had been rubbed thin.

Akito pressed onward, his bracelet softly pulsing with each step. There was no gravity here, no floor really, just a sense of direction, forward. Deeper.

Behind him, Aeris followed, slow and hesitant. Her usual composed silence was now punctuated by small sounds, a sharp inhale, a muffled gasp. She clutched the sleeve of her own arm tightly, knuckles pale.

Then came the next voice, like a radio catching signal through snow:

“…you can’t fix someone who doesn’t want to be seen, Aeris.”

Akito turned his head, confused. “Did you hear - ?”

“Ignore it,” she said quickly. “It’s not real.” Tears started to form at her eyes. Although I've seen them before, the brilliant hue of lavender mixed with cyan began to almost glow. 

I didn't believe her but I obeyed, continuing forward. The path flickered with shapes now, shadows cast by nothing. Some almost looked like people. One leaned against an invisible wall, head in hands. Another curled beside a nonexistent desk, repeating a motion like writing… or begging.

Another voice crackled through the air like glass breaking.

“You think pretending to care is better than leaving me alone?! I’m not your project!”

This time, Aeris stumbled. Her hand grazed the wall, or whatever passed for it, and she froze, eyes wide and unfocused.

I went to try and help her regain her composure, but she flinched away.

“They’re memories, aren’t they?" After a pause, gauging if it'd be okay to ask this despite already knowing the answer, "Yours?”

She didn’t reply. Instead, another burst chimed in, sharper this time.

“…you looked so tired that day. I should have stayed. I should have done more.”

Aeris’s breath hitched. She clamped her hands over her ears. “Stop… just stop…”

But the void didn’t.

“…he’s gone. They found his things by the edge.”

“…you knew, didn’t you? You just didn’t want to admit it.”

“…he was my student. I should have noticed. I always notice.”

“Please!” she gasped, voice trembling. “Make it stop!!”

I focused fully on her now. We may have not known each other for long but never have I seen her like this. Her cautious personality was unraveling. It started to terrify me more than the darkness around us.

I took her hand, gently, like approaching a wounded animal. “Let’s go back. It'll be okay”

“No,” she whispered, barely audible. “Just… leave me alone. Please.”

“But it’s killing you.”
And it was. Her breathing was shallow, her expression hollowed out by something far older than this moment.
Yet somehow, beneath that, she was still trying to protect me.

For the first time, I felt it. Real compassion. Not the passive kind, not the nodding-along-to-get-by kind. But a stirring I couldn’t ignore. I wanted to act. Not because I was expected to, not out of guilt or obligation, but because I didn’t want her to suffer. Not alone.

“I’m not leaving you here,” I said, quieter this time. “So either we both stay, or we both get out.”

She trembled. Not visibly, but I could feel it through our joined hands, just slightly. Her lips parted, as if she were about to argue, but no words came out. Just silence.

After a long moment, she gave the faintest nod.

Together, we turned away from the void.