The Truth Beneath the Prison

The stairs inside the tower spiraled downward without end.

Each step felt heavier than the last, not because of exhaustion, but because of the weight in the air. It was thick with memories, regret, and something older than fear.

The faint light along the walls followed them as they descended, glowing brighter when Kemp stepped first, dimming slightly when he passed.

Serdihun 2 counted steps in her head at first.

She stopped after a hundred.

Serdihun 2:
“…Yeah, no.”
(pause)
“I officially hate stairs now.”

George gave a dry laugh.

George:
“Trust me.”
(pause)
“This is still better than falling.”

The survivors moved quietly, staying close together. Some whispered prayers they barely remembered. Others just watched Kemp with a mix of awe and fear.

The leader finally spoke, her voice echoing softly in the stairwell.

Leader:
“This place…”
(pause)
“…no one who entered ever returned.”

Kemp looked back at her.

Kemp:
“Then we’ll be the first.”

She studied his face for a long moment.

Leader:
“…I hope the tower believes you.”

As they descended further, the walls began to change.

The smooth stone became cracked and uneven. Old carvings appeared—scenes frozen in time.

Alir slowed down, staring at one of them.

Alir:
“These are… people.”

The carving showed humans and beings like Sarmon and Birson—standing together.

Not fighting.

Working.

Building.

Serdihun frowned.

Serdihun:
“They don’t look like prisoners.”

Sarmon’s expression darkened.

Sarmon:
“Because they were not.”

Birson stopped walking.

Birson:
“This is before the prison.”
(pause)
“Before betrayal.”

Kemp felt his chest tighten.

Kemp:
“Betrayal by who?”

The ancient voice answered—not loud, not angry, but tired.

Ancient Voice:
“BY THOSE WHO FEARED CHANGE.”

The stairs opened into a massive underground hall.

Everyone froze.

The space was enormous, larger than the ruined city above. A ceiling of glowing crystal arched overhead, cracked but still shining faintly. In the center of the chamber stood a colossal structure—half machine, half seal—wrapped in countless chains of light and shadow.

The core of the prison.

Serdihun 2 whispered.

Serdihun 2:
“…So this is it.”

George stared openly.

George:
“Yeah.”
(pause)
“I’m never complaining about small rooms again.”

The survivors fell to their knees instinctively.

Leader:
“This…”
(pause)
“…this is what kept us here.”

Sarmon stepped forward slowly.

Sarmon:
“This is where we were bound.”

Birson’s hands trembled slightly.

Birson:
“And where we failed.”

Kemp walked closer to the chained structure. With every step, the pressure returned—but now it felt familiar, almost welcoming.

Kemp:
“This thing…”
(pause)
“It’s not just a cage.”

The ancient voice spoke again.

Ancient Voice:
“NO.”
(pause)
“IT IS A COMPROMISE.”

Images filled the air around them.

The past unfolded.

The gods.

The people.

Sarmon and Birson—once fully human—standing before the gods.

A world changing.

Power growing.

Fear spreading.

The gods did not want balance.

They wanted control.

So they built the prison.

But it required anchors.

Living ones.

Sarmon closed his eyes.

Sarmon:
“We volunteered.”
(pause)
“To protect others.”

Birson spoke softly.

Birson:
“And became part of the lock.”

Alir felt tears fall.

Alir:
“You were sacrificed…”

The ancient voice continued.

Ancient Voice:
“THE PRISON HOLDS.”
(pause)
“BUT IT ALSO CONSUMES.”

The image shifted.

Watchers forming.

Wardens created.

The prison growing crueler over time.

The compromise breaking.

Kemp clenched his fists.

Kemp:
“So why me?”

The chains around the core reacted, glowing faintly.

Ancient Voice:
“BECAUSE YOU WERE NOT MADE BY US.”

Everyone turned toward Kemp.

Serdihun:
“What does that mean?”

Birson’s eyes widened slowly.

Birson:
“…You’re outside the design.”

Ancient Voice:
“YOU ARE A RESULT.”
(pause)
“NOT A PLAN.”

Kemp felt dizzy.

Kemp:
“So I wasn’t chosen.”

Ancient Voice:
“YOU EMERGED.”

George chuckled weakly.

George:
“Kid.”
(pause)
“That’s somehow worse.”

The ground shook violently.

Dust fell.

The wardens’ roar echoed faintly even here.

Sarmon drew his sword.

Sarmon:
“The prison knows where we are.”

Birson raised his staff.

Birson:
“And it will collapse this chamber if it must.”

The ancient voice grew urgent.

Ancient Voice:
“ONLY TWO PATHS REMAIN.”

Two visions appeared.

One showed the prison sealing itself forever—everyone trapped, but safe from destruction.

The other showed the prison shattering—freedom, but chaos spreading beyond.

Serdihun whispered.

Serdihun:
“…There’s no good choice.”

Kemp looked at everyone.

At Alir.

At Serdihun.

At Serdihun 2.

At George.

At Sarmon and Birson.

At the survivors.

Kemp:
“Then we make one.”

The ancient voice hesitated.

Ancient Voice:
“THE FINAL SEAL REQUIRES A CORE.”

Silence.

Everyone understood.

Alir stepped forward instantly.

Alir:
“No.”

Serdihun shook her head.

Serdihun:
“Absolutely not.”

Serdihun 2 grabbed Kemp’s arm.

Serdihun 2:
“You’re not doing that.”

George’s voice was unusually serious.

George:
“Kid.”
(pause)
“There has to be another way.”

Kemp smiled softly.

Kemp:
“There is.”

He looked at Sarmon and Birson.

Kemp:
“You don’t have to hold it anymore.”

Sarmon stared.

Sarmon:
“…What are you saying?”

Kemp placed his hand on the core.

The chains reacted violently.

Light surged.

Kemp:
“I won’t replace the prison.”
(pause)
“I’ll end the need for it.”

The ancient voice trembled.

Ancient Voice:
“THIS WILL BREAK YOU.”

Kemp nodded.

Kemp:
“Maybe.”
(pause)
“But it won’t erase me.”

The chamber began to collapse.

The wardens screamed.

The seals cracked.

Birson shouted.

Birson:
“Kemp, stop!”

Kemp turned one last time.

Kemp:
“Chapter 44 decides everything.”

Light exploded from the core.

The chains shattered.

The prison screamed as one.

And the world held its breath—

Waiting for the end.