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TEAM PRISON GROUP

Click.

Nothing.

At first it seemed like Lucky had once again drawn the short end of the stick. Perhaps it was better this way, it probably saved him the future grief of ever thinking he could take so much more while still being so little.

The door closed behind Roland, the control panel locked from the inside, leaving the Mist trainee an observer as well. He, and everyone else, would observe as slowly, all the controls snapped back into position, slowly, realigning themselves-

- And there was a terrible groan, as the room, the tiles began to shift sideways, just a little bit at a time-

- Before everyone fell into the abyss below and the tiles once again snapped closed. In an ironic sense Lucky had gotten what he wanted. And so had everyone else. He wasn't that chosen after all.

Otto's jaw dropped like a sack of nickels. Everyone was gone, save for the small gaggle of them plus Gale. Sam had to have known. She wasn't stupid. But why save Otto? Because he was a good lackey? He wasn't good for much else, after all.

Uneasy and internally screaming out of fear, Otto followed the rest to the next room. The whole speech made his eyes deaden somewhat. Killing so many people so they could have some sick elite club? It made Otto want to puke. He had to swallow hard to fight the nausea the whole situation left him in.

Assessments. Judgement on those guilty or pure. What bullshit, Otto thought.

The door opened at the other end and a tall slender man approached, wearing a clean white suit. He nodded to the others in the room and then sat down on the throne.

"You may call me the leader, though in our organization, we prefer the term Judge. Judgement is neither cruel nor kind, it is fair, and it is reflected upon actions. Now, we have been assessing your work here. You may pass on any two of the three conditions. One, you have witnessed a death but have not inflicted death yourself. Two, you have not broken the rules clearly laid out to you. And three, you are protected by a Speaker, one of our higher ranks. Let us begin."

The spotlight was put on Mark first as everyone turned to look at him. "Mark. You show a clear lack of understanding of rules and boundaries. You do not pass these conditions."

As if that wasn't obvious, though it was rather dramatic when a trap door opened underneath Mark and he went falling into his demise, yet again.

"Otto. You have been Judged. You are protected by a Speaker and you have obeyed our rules. You have passed these conditions."

Next was Gale. "Gale. You have been Judged .You have witnessed death but remained sturdy and you have obeyed the rules. You have passed these conditions."

And lastly - "Charlotte. You have been Judged. You have none of the conditions. You hav-"

BANG.

The shot from the Moon Assistant just barely missed the Judge. Everyone suddenly stood up, the room erupting in chaos. Immediately, several guards, figures dressed in grey clothing entered and grabbed her, stripping the Moon Assistant of any other weapons. Charlotte put up a good fight, but without her actual weapon, or any weapon, she went down easily. Arms tied behind her back, one injured over the uninjured, her head was slammed against the table.

"Shall we take her to the nightmare chambers with the rest of the failures?" The sentries looked at the Judge.

"No." The Judge sat back down. "Examples sometimes have to be made. Even when we think our system is perfect, sometimes the guilty must be reinforced. Justice is only carried out when there is reason to." The waved a hand. "Cameras please. Let us broadcast this moment."

What followed seemed almost surreal. The room dimmed, and bright lights angled in at all directions. This is what all Hunters would see on their phones, on their screens, this is what all those of this strange organization would see.

"I am the Judge." He sat proud in front of the screen. You may kill my Speakers, you may kill my brethren but you cannot kill justice. Justice will be served to those who deserve it. Justice will be served only in response." The screen zoomed out to reveal Charlotte, still lying on the table with hands tied behind her back. Two sentries, wearing grey, held her still. "This Hunter, she was there during that day, the day that fueled this war. They day when she and so many others took turns to destroy an age old system and stain the word Hunter, and bring shame to their own history. On that day, she was judged."

The Judge took out a long silver pistol, and then from a fancy tinted case, one that looked more suited for mints, opened it to reveal a velvet lining with several silver bullets. He put exactly six in, polished the barrel a bit with the lining and pressed it against Charlotte's head.

"And on this day, judgement will be served."

BANG.

Blood splattered everywhere on the table, on the walls, some of it getting on the Judge's white coat. This wasn't the shallow red of a scrape, this wasn't the burnt flesh of a Runic weapon, this was just a simple pistol fired at point with solitary purpose.

It seemed surreal. It seemed like it was just a golem maybe, that the body that was twitching and heaving, that the body that continued to move despite a large portion of its brain ceasing was something else. The body continued to gag, it continued to twitch and spasm, fingers curling into claws as finally movement slowed down. As finally it lay still in a pool of its own blood and was just another body.

Perhaps seeing it made it a little more surreal. Perhaps the fact that it was not anyone else gave those remaining in the room a sense of relief, or just guilt. Perhaps it was easier to just lie to themselves. It wasn't real. Everything was staged, a game.

Perhaps that missing cavity of the head, just one glassy eye staring right at them could somehow be repaired.

"This is justice. And as long as injustice remains, we will continue to judge."

The footage stopped here, the lights dimmed, the regular room lights flickered on, and Sam lost all composure entirely as her fingers shook, and she slowly backed herself away from the corpse.

"Now then," said the Judge, dabbing at the spots of red on his face. "Shall we take the tour?" The door opened up behind him, and several sentries forcefully pulled the remaining three up.

To see Mark fail was... usual. Actually. He kind of hoped he didn't really die, just like he held out hope the tile room hunters were secretly ok. His mind was trying to numb everything. Numb the world and all it's cruelty.

A Speaker was protecting him?

Why? Why him? Was it Sam? Was she in on everything, and just playing dumb?

But why?

Half of Otto was thankful to be deemed acceptable. His other half hated that he needed to be accepted as worthy at all. More often than not, he just wasn't. He loathed every instance that he was with defensive thoughts that blamed the instigator for sizing him up to begin with.

Torn. Always torn between accepting reality and fighting for an ideal. He chose to survive. He did that by not speaking a word against these people. Even as Charlotte tried to kill the throne man, even as they televised her bloody demise. A demise that really pushed the limits of Otto's resistance to puke. Unlike Gale, he'd not thought to turn away. He saw it all. He tried to keep his breathing steady. Tried not to puke or pass out. Tried not to let anything that was happening make him react too strongly, like he'd done when Lawr attacked his team mates.

A tour was now on their agenda. Otto's head spun, and if it weren't for the sentries forcibly pulling him to the next destination, he'd likely have been frozen on the spot. No Tenya to keep him assured or focused, he had to rely on his own strength of will to go on. Take the tour. Learn and adapt as needed. Figure this s**t out.

More like get dragged for the ride...

His gaze met Gale's only briefly, icy blue eyes scared and confused soon cast themselves to the rest of the room in avoidance.

He was trying very hard to keep his composure.

Which was relatively difficult, considering the situation. Gale knew of the nightmare chambers, knew the faces of those in the pods in front of him, and his stomach turned over, his shoulders automatically tensing. He wasn't sure what it was that they were supposed to do, but whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Except whatever it was apparently wasn't about to happen, since the next second all hell (or rather, more hell) broke loose.

He had no time to argue, no time to wonder at Sam's apparent switch back to Deus, no time to even consider whether this was all some big test, or whether he was about to be killed (the latter was probably true, if he didn't move). Mark was there, up ahead, and the pods were open, and it was hard to see -

Gale ran without thinking, his fingers closing around the boy wrist of Taym first, his body thin and long; and then it was Abbi, her hair so vibrantly colored it was hard not to see her, Gale struggling to move her.

And then finally, terror in his heart, Gale pulled Stormy into his arms and ran towards the portal.

It was slow going.

He went for Cass next, her short hair falling into her face. She looked serene in sleep, though there were light bruises on her arms, most likely from whatever it was that had happened to her. Marcus would kill him if she wasn't brought back safely, Gale thought randomly at one point during his attempts at hauling her out.

Mimsy followed, though he didn't know her very well, other than that she was with the loud one whose name he knew but was deliberately ignoring at the current moment. He slung one of her arms around his neck, his own going around her waist, and half carried, half dragged her towards the portal.

Peyton's slight frame, thankfully, was smaller than his own, which made her easier and less heavy to carry, Gale swinging her up into his arms and running with her princess style over to the portal.

He was finding it difficult to breathe with all of the smoke cascading around them. Gale coughed, a hand over his mouth as he grabbed Jason, using a great deal more effort than he'd ever thought he'd have to drag him over to the portal (and by drag, it meant literally, across the floor, Gale holding onto one of his arms).

Ian was equally dragged, since Gale didn't quite have the strength to haul him, nor did he recognize him at all. And then, his chest aching, a stitch in his side, Gale ran back and grabbed Lucky, an only slightly familiar hunter that Gale did not know well.

His lungs were burning with the effort of moving.

"Move!" Sam emerged from the smoke, weapon no longer summoned, instead, a bloodstained dagger in one hand. She practically shoved Otto forwards. "Mark get everyone ******** out right now."

The Death assistant grabbed Gale, heard the warning shots and didn't need to be told twice about leaving. Sam moved forwards too and then tripped, stumbling for a second before pulling herself up. "<********- I'm going to kill him." The smoke must have made her slightly more derranged than usual as she shoved Otto forwards with one bloodied hand, faltered, and then practically fell in herself.

The training fields already had medics ready, ones that took the victims of the ordeal. Several ran to tend to Sam, who was clutching her abdomen, the blood staining her dress a lot darker than Lawr's superficial wound. She arced her back in pain as they tried to get her to lie back down and then coughed blood. "No, stop, stop- get me- wait who's- I need to-" she coughed again, dark red spraying everwhere. "Otto, Gale, someone get your a** here for the love of-"