The walls dripped with moisture and the draft moaned through the cracks. Lionel sat on a wooden plank suspended by heavy chains, his head hanging low. Black horns and wings protruded from his forehead and back. He could no longer hide his true form, not with the magic-suppressing shackles clamping down on his wrists.
The chains stretched toward the darkness of the cell, disappearing into the shadows. A sinister force kept him bound to the very essence of Hallow’s Gallows, the depths of Hell itself.
Lionel stared down at his shackled hands. He took a deep breath and surveyed his surroundings.
“Something is off,” he muttered. “Why does this feel… replenishing?”
He leaned his head back against the cold stone. It was as if a physical weight had been lifted from his shoulders. This darkness is healing, he realized.
High above in the vast expanse of the cavern, a different prisoner sat in a cage of his own. Cinco stared into the void, his mind racing.
“I’m definitely not in the Lunar Region anymore,” he said to the empty air.
“You’re wrong,” a feminine voice echoed with a shaky, melodic tune.
Cinco looked to his left. Another prisoner was there. Her hair was short and red, her robes were tattered, and her skin was stained with the grime of the pit.
“This is still the Lunar Region. We’re just bordering the outskirts of the Saturnian Region,” she said, her voice trembling. She grasped the rusty iron bars of her cage in desperation. “You still have light in your eyes! Don’t let them take your soul like they did mine! This place breaks you. It drains you. If you survive the siphoning, your next hell is the second trial. But I won’t be seeing that.”
Cinco stood up, his expression clouding with concern. He gripped the bars with his left hand and leaned forward.
“Don’t talk like that. You’re going to survive this! I’ll find a way out. I’ll get us both out!”
“My time is up. There is no saving me.”
Above them, the eyes of the carved stone skulls began to glow a deep crimson. Their heavy jaws groaned as they slowly unhinged. The cages began to vibrate violently. Cinco gripped the bars on either side to steady himself.
“What’s happening?!”
The girl’s eyes rolled back. Her body went limp. “May… fate have… mercy… on our… souls,” she whispered before collapsing.
Cinco’s eyes widened. A heavy metallic click echoed through the chamber. The bottom of her cage snapped open, and her body vanished into the abyss below. She was not the only one. Multiple cages released their burdens at once, sending a rain of the fallen into the darkness.
Cinco leaned forward, making his cage swing precariously. He watched the descent of those who had succumbed. The heavy chains of the girl’s cage rattled as it ascended back into the rafters, reset and ready for its next occupant.
“I’m going to run Don’s pockets through the roof when this mission is over,” he growled. He straightened his Stetson, pulling the brim low to hide the sting in his eyes.
As his emotions flared, an iridescent light began to stream off Cinco’s body. A sudden wave of lightheadedness overcame him. He stumbled, falling to one knee.
What the hell was that? I feel like I just lost a piece of myself.
The stream of light swirled toward the giant skulls. However, before the stone guardians could consume it, the light twirled away. It descended toward the cells on the ground floor. It shimmered across the brimstone tiles and pooled around Lionel’s boots. As the light settled into Lionel’s skin, it didn't feel cold like the usual prison energy. It carried a residue.
Lionel’s eyes snapped open. The darkness didn't just feel healing anymore; it felt crowded. Along with the energy came a flash of things that didn’t belong to him. He felt a flicker of hope, a weight of optimism, and a sudden, sharp spike of annoyance regarding someone named “Don.”
“Who…?” Lionel gasped, his throat dry and cracked.
He rose and walked to the bars of his cell. He looked up. High above, the massive skulls were still grinding their jaws, but the trail of light acted like a glowing tether. It was a literal conduit leading to a swaying cage in the rafters.
Up in that cage, Cinco tried to shake off his vertigo. The silence following the girl’s death was louder than any scream.
“Hey!” Cinco shouted, his voice bouncing off the damp stone. “Is there anyone else in this damn birdcage, or am I the only one left on the menu?”
The sound drifted down, echoing until it reached the floor. Lionel froze. The voice was cocky and desperate. It matched the "energy" he had just tasted perfectly.
“You’re too loud,” Lionel called out. His voice was projected by the very walls meant to suppress him. “The skulls… they like the noise of suffering. It makes them hungry.”
A heavy silence followed.
“A floor model, huh?” Cinco’s voice came back, snarky despite the situation. “Must be nice having your feet on the ground. Up here, it's all vertigo and trapdoors. Who am I talking to? A ghost or another victim of the Hallow’s Gallows hospitality?”
Lionel looked at his shackled wrists. The black wings on his back twitched.
“A monster,” Lionel muttered to himself. He raised his voice to the rafters. “Just stay quiet and don't get emotional. If you feel weak, fight it. They consume you the moment you succumb.”
“Easy for you to say,” Cinco growled back. “Something just took a bite out of my soul, and I’m pretty sure I didn't give it permission.”
The grinding of stone jaws was the only reply. Lionel felt the stolen optimism settling into his marrow. It was a strange sensation; clean and bright, clashing with the stagnant dread of the prison. He watched the vapor trail of light thin out as Cinco calmed down.
“You’re the one in the hanging cage,” Lionel said, his voice vibrating with a new resonance. “The one who just lost a neighbor.”
Cinco tightened his grip on the bars and peered into the red haze below. “Yeah, and I’m not looking to be the next one through the floorboards. You sound like you’ve been here a while. What’s the play? How do we stop the leak?”
“You don’t,” Lionel replied. “I studied this place before I was captured. It’s a circuit. It eats light to keep the darkness alive. But if you’re feeding me…”
Lionel paused as a realization hit him. He looked at his shackles. The replenishment was allowing his internal pulse, his star, to beat against the suppression. His inherited magic was still bound, but his star magic was waking up.
“Anger,” he whispered. He looked up again. “If you stay angry, you stay alive! People die because they give in to sorrow. That is the nectar they want. But your annoyance, your greed for this ‘Don’s’ pockets, that’s sharp! It’s harder for the skulls to digest.”
“Stay mad? I’ve been mad since I stepped foot in the Lunar Region,” Cinco snapped back, though his voice wavered with exhaustion. “But I’m running on fumes here, Floor Model. I feel like a squeezed lemon.”
Lionel huffed at the nickname. “Dammit, my name is Lionel!”
Cinco’s eyes widened. The royal?!
“I came here to get you! The name is Cinco!” he shouted.
Lionel’s eyes narrowed. “Are you crazy?! You came here willingly?!”
Cinco leaned against the bars, tapping his fingers against the metal. “I trust the process a little too much.”
Suddenly, the ambient red light of the prison pulsed. A deep, sub-bass hum rattled the cages. The two dead guards outside Lionel’s cell straightened their skeletal backs, their eye sockets flickering with intense crimson flames. Simultaneously, the chain holding Cinco’s cage began to slide sideways, dragging him toward the center of the expanse, directly under the largest grinding skull.
“Uh, Lionel?” Cinco’s voice jumped an octave. “The decor is moving. Why is my cage moving?!”
Lionel watched in horror as the strand of light began to stretch. The massive skull above Cinco unhinged its jaw wider than ever before, creating a vacuum of dark energy.
“They’ve noticed the bypass,” Lionel hissed. “They know the energy is skipping the skulls and coming to me! They’re going to force the harvest!”
“Force it?! How do they—!”
Cinco’s words were cut off by a piercing, metallic shriek. The skulls released a wave of crushing pressure.
Down below, Lionel slammed his hands against the bars, his wings flaring to their full, terrifying span. He felt the tether of light reach its breaking point. Then, it snapped.
“Cinco, hold on to something!” Lionel roared.
“Not much for me to do!” Cinco yelled as his cage tilted dangerously.
Lionel couldn't respond. A massive shadow began to detach itself from the skull’s jaw. It was a third entity, draped in executioner’s silks and wielding a shimmering, obsidian blade.
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