The insistent smell of sweat and rust clung to the air like a shroud in Eenac's heart. Here, shadows stretched long and jagged, painting the detainment camp a mix of grime and despair. It wasn't a government cage, no sterile halls or flashing lights. This instead was a dungeon made from the city's darkest alleys, a haven for forgotten souls and whispered secrets.
And in the heart of this concrete build, Cass lay caged. Her fiery hair, previously a riot of crimson, mirrored the dried blood staining her skin. She sat slumped against the bars, a skeletal silhouette displayed against the flickering fluorescent lights that mocked the darkness beyond. Her eyes, the color of midnight storms, a twin to the desolation of the hall, reflecting the cold indifference of the iron bars imprisoning her.
