Cyrus finds himself camping outside a faceless prison in district 11 with a bunch of faceless revolutionists he had never spoken to. At the forefront of everything is a faceless man Cyrus knows all too well, Alan Caine, a massive faceless guy who almost resembles Cyrus in his current form. Alan is one of the most prolific faceless terrorists known to the regime, on eight separate occasions Cyrus has captured or attacked this man in his duties, every time he walked away. Alan stands in front of the group of revolutionists giving everybody a tactical breakdown of the prison break they’re about to stage. Cyrus is not listening, he’ll be damned if he follows the commands of his rival.

When they all eventually make a charge towards the prison Cyrus follows suit, making sure to pick up one of the remaining firearms, an automatic rifle he is almost too experienced at using, left at the meeting spot. Cyrus runs through rows of cells as faced guards and faceless revolutionists exchange gunfire with each other. “Cover Chris”, one of the faceless shouts, “make sure he gets to block C”. Cyrus continues his sprint to block C, faced guards dropping to their knees in front of him as they get picked off by gunfire. He runs through a corridor, out of reach of the supporting gunfire, he’s alone. A guard shoots at him from around a corner, but Cyrus lands a shot on his head. He arrives at a door labelled ‘block C’, without even considering intentions he begins to kick the door. 

One kick, doesn’t budge

Two kicks, again nothing

Three kicks, the door flies open. That's when Cyrus sees an image not even somebody as high profile within the regime as him was made aware of. Faceless babies, newborn faceless babies subject to human experimentation worse than anything Cyrus could’ve imagined, all while their recently postpartum mothers lay atop poorly put together hospital beds at the other side of the room. Some dead, others not as lucky. The more Cyrus looks around, the worse the conditions get. Babies with adult body parts sewn onto them, babies submerged in water, skinned, gouged, burned alive, fed various animals, fed to various animals, mutilated, electrocuted, subjected to various chemical and nuclear conditions. There are babies with needles stuck in their arms, babies being hung from their ankles. Block C, the cellblock reserved for those who broke rule number 2, falling pregnant while faceless and being seen in such a pregnant state. Cyrus starts gathering as many of the babies as he can, bundling them up carelessly in his arms. The majority of them are dead, the rest don't have long left. With his arms carelessly full of baby parts, dead babies and the occasional dying babies Cyrus feels a sharp pain in his shoulder, then another sharp pain in his other shoulder, a pain he doesn't recognise, despite how often he’d administered this pain. Cyrus stumbles slightly, spilling all the bits of newborn faceless he had collected all over the floor, before everything went dark…and it stayed dark. 

Cyrus can hear various faceless voices hazily talking around him. The only voices he can actually discern are James's and Tim’s, but he has no idea what they're saying. Then eventually he can hear nothing.