The shackles all simultaneously released the monsters from their grip as a crisp snap filled the air. The bindings fell so quickly that it messed up Teta's aim, his finger pointed at the ground faster than he could even think to shoot. The disrupted imp gnashed his teeth with disdain, regarding the lamia before him as cowardly more than anything else.
"Hey. You bastards throw us in that arena as a shit-show for side cash, and you can't even fight me properly?" The sides of Teta's face were filled with bulging veins, his anger evident. His red irises were aglow with the same radiated light that flickered between his fingers, and as he got ready to prepare for a more unavoidable attack he felt a sensation on his shoulder. Looking up, he was met by Alban's cool, collected expression.
"It's time to leave, Teta. If you wanted to do something like this, shouldn't you have done it earlier? Besides, I want to go out and eat something good already." Teta took a deep breath, letting his rage fade before he replied. As his countenance increasingly became more composed, he simply nodded along with what Alban said and stood up straight.
'Thinking about it, it was rather unsightly to remain hunched down in anger for a lowly lizard like this.' He thought, folding his wings along his back once more. They had unfurled during his upset, his unstable emotions provoking a fight or flight response in his body. And Teta frequently chose to fight, he never refrained unless he deemed it impossible for him to win. It would sully his pride.
Taking in the sight before her, Damaris broke into a wide toothy grin. Her serpentine eyes had an expression of delight that would creep out even the most devoted lover, yet it strangely didn't bother anyone. She figured it would at least bother Lat, he was the wimpiest one here! The lamia looked towards him inquisitively, causing Lat's already frustrated expression to crumple even further.
"What? We're both lizards, am I supposed to be scared?" His lips curled halfway in a snarl as his king green eyes seemed to shimmer with a baby yellow light. The warm glow that was suffused by his body and reflected by his yellow scales brought sparkles to Damaris's eyes. She finally leveled her gaze at Alban, determined to experience the hottest prisoners she's ever seen before the military takes them.
The two's eyes met. One as deep as the darkest bronze, almost as if it was merely ebony with hints of copper. The other as snakelike as they come, yet a strange allure existed there nevertheless. As the two held each other's attention, it wasn't long before the bronze eyes started sizing the opposing body up, their gaze deepening. It was no gaze of desire, but rather a predator sizing up their prey.
Damaris's eyes backed off as she looked away due to the chills that kept traveling up her spine. It didn't make sense at all to her, how someone that wouldn't be able to defeat her at even 10% effort as of now made her feel such dread. Such wariness. She was quite curious as to what tier the savage was, although she was convinced it wouldn't be that high. He didn't seem like the type that could hide their strength, really.
"Okay boyssss. Follow me, your recruiter is here to...ressscue you." Her slippery voice degraded into a sultry whisper. Or upgraded, depending on the perspective. Alban, Teta, and Lat, however, were not impressed. In fact, the last of the three even had a question.
"Recruiter? What're ya talking about?" They weren't told this when they were promised freedom. 'Wait, is being recruited the second you're let out even freedom??' Lat had his doubts, to say the least.
"Mrathian policy. You get out of the arenas, you are automatically recruited for ssssivil ssservice. Look alive, eye-candy." With that, she simply turned around and walked off into the corridor. The three monsters exchanged looks of confusion, irritation, and exasperation, but still brought themselves to comply. Although they each had their own reasons, they were all ready to leave this fetid cell first.
Walking down the long hall, Alban observed the area as his mind flowed quietly. Although he hadn't minded staying in the arena, he wouldn't pass up the chance to leave here. He wanted to get stronger, not face the pond scum of Nightmare. Whatever happened next, it would most likely be more dangerous that whatever this is.
Speaking of dangerous, Alban thought he was pretty powerful. The problem is, he had just barely passed his second threshold...it was leaving him confused. Not only did he have no idea how many thresholds monster even have, he knew that he wasn't the strongest around.
'Yet if I was on Earth, I'd basically be a superhero? Somewhere around that kind of strength, I guess. Yet there has to be a lot more stronger than me, which means that the standards of Nightmare aren't even close to Earth...'
As his thoughts smoothly flowed through his mind, he noticed that they were about to arrive at their destination. It surprised him how aware his body was now, that he could even climb up long sets of stairs without even focusing. His skin awash with red light, he saw the looming door in front of him. Damaris pressed it open before he could observe it closely, but he could've sworn that he saw an octopus head...?
"Well. You could've come here quicker, but it doesn't matter. Leave, Soldier Damaris. I will be taking it from here." The tall figure stood at a good seven feet as the presumed male stood at a pronounced, upright posture. No matter where you looked, there was no slouching in his visage, nor any laziness.
His clothes were proper and neat, black pants, a white coat, and combat boots freshly polished. There were two armbands with the numbers 3 and 46 on them, and a silver medal pinned onto the right side of his chest. Lastly, his face seemed to be wearing a blank mask, it was so pale that it reminded Alban of the slate monster he fought off not so long ago.
The figure quickly moved, curtly pointing his index finger firstly at his left arm, secondly at his right.
"Rank. File. Names? I know them. Let's go." The left armband was the one with the three, while the rightmost one instead bore the 46. The man soon started walking, his steps quick and precise as they made their way down the set of stairs. Alban did not waste time in following him.
Lat and Teta looked at each other before hurrying after the man, not wanting to be left behind. None of the departing monsters looked back at the room they had left from, much to Gethu's relief. He had realized that he pretty much earned animosity from everyone in the room, and a Camra Commoner had enough jurisdiction to legally end his life.
Sighing to himself, Gethu decided to clean himself up and act a little bit nicer before he ends up locked in a forced revival zone. Pulling out the drawers in his desk, there was a box with an octopus on the cover that sat alone.
The old man opened the box and pulled out a long stick, before chewing on it thoughtfully. "Goodbye...moneybags." It was time to return from riches to rags for the old monster, and his profits would never be the same...