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A guard in a black cloak with a black mask suddenly thrown a bread into the prison and the sound from the bread woke Hale up.
The world around Hale was a suffocating black void. It was as if the darkness had seeped into his very being, and there was no way to escape it. He woke up with an ache in his body that reminded him of the last thing he remembered—the collar. It burned against his neck, a constant reminder that he was trapped. The prison, underground and secluded from the rest of the world, was silent. Too silent. The only sound was the soft, muffled echo of his own breathing, the only company he had—the dark and the shadows.
Hale instinctively reached up, touching the cold, hard metal around his neck. The collar was tightly fitted against his skin, but it wasn't just a physical restraint—it was magical, a cruel piece of work designed to prevent him from using his magic. There was no escape from it. It didn't matter how much he strained against it or how clever he was. The collar wasn't something that could be taken off, and if he ever tried, a sharp pain would surge through his body, forcing him to stop. It wasn't just about physical imprisonment; it was a constant reminder of his helplessness.
A pulse of pain raced up his spine as he tried to focus on using his magic. The collar hummed, and a wave of burning agony shot through his neck, as if every cell in his body was being torn apart. Hale gritted his teeth, forcing himself to endure it. He had no choice. He couldn't afford to lose control. Not yet.
The air in the prison was thick, stagnant. He couldn't see his surroundings, couldn't hear anything besides his own heartbeat. The only thing that kept him grounded in this endless darkness was the knowledge that he had been here before in his mind's eye. He had always known he would end up in a place like this—trapped, isolated, cut off from everything and everyone. He had known it would happen, but the extremity of it had taken him by surprise.
Still, he refused to let it break him. His mind was still sharp, still calculating. The world outside may have turned its back on him, but inside his own mind, Hale was still in control.
His only companion in this abyss was a spider. A small, venomous creature, its black body scurrying across the floor of his cell in search of food. At first, Hale hadn't thought much of it—it was just another bug in the endless darkness. But over time, the spider had become his only source of solace.
Hale had named it, though it wasn't like the spider could understand him. He called it 'Venom,' an appropriate name for a creature that could kill with just a bite. Sometimes, Hale would talk to it, not because he expected it to respond, but because it was the only thing in the world that didn't turn away from him. It didn't judge or question him. It just... existed.
On this particular day, Hale watched Venom crawl near him, its black legs moving with quick, calculated steps. The spider paused, looking up at him, and Hale, with his ever-present sense of loneliness, spoke.
"Not much of a conversation, huh?" Hale murmured, his voice hollow, echoing off the stone walls. "I suppose you're the only one I can talk to. Not that you can understand me, but still... I'll take what I can get."
He reached out slowly, his fingers trembling slightly, and tore off a small piece of the stale bread they had given him. He held it out, offering it to the spider. At first, it hesitated, but then it crawled toward the bread, eagerly devouring the morsel.
"You and I are alike," Hale whispered, watching the creature. "Trapped. Alone. No way out."
It seemed ridiculous to speak to a spider, but in this hellhole, it was all Hale had. The collar around his neck pulsed again, a reminder of his incapacity to change his circumstances. The collar, a cruel piece of magic, prevented him from doing anything that might threaten his imprisonment. If he even thought of removing it, the pain would be unbearable.
Yet, Hale's thoughts weren't entirely focused on the pain. He thought of what was happening outside this underground prison, where his friends were searching for him.
Meanwhile, Outside the Prison
Edran had always been the one to take action. When Hale went missing, no one needed to tell him what to do. He was already out on the streets, searching alley by alley, digging through the underbelly of the city. He questioned everyone he could find—shopkeepers, thugs, anyone who might have seen or heard something. He ventured into the darkest parts of the city, where the criminals and outcasts gathered, hoping for a lead.
But no one had seen Hale. No one knew anything. Every road he took led to a dead end, every conversation ending in nothing.
"I won't stop," Edran said to himself, his voice tight with frustration. "I will find him."
Joan and Rena, too, searched relentlessly. Joan's heart raced as he walked through crowded markets, speaking to vendors, showing them a detailed description of Hale—his black hair, his silver-like eyes. But every time, the answer was the same.
"No, we haven't seen him."
Rena's face grew pale with worry. "Where could he be?" she asked. "He wouldn't just disappear like that."
In the orphanage, Sister, the kind-hearted woman who had raised Hale and the other children, felt a gnawing unease. Four children had gone missing, including Hale. The others—three boys and one girl—were nowhere to be found. Sister had long grown accustomed to caring for the children, but the loss of Hale and the others was too much.
She paced nervously, hands wringing, before speaking to Edran, her voice low and filled with concern.
"Edran, there's something strange going on. I've checked every corner of the orphanage. Hale... and the other children... they're gone. All of them. It's like they vanished."
Edran's brows furrowed. He had felt something was wrong ever since Hale disappeared, but hearing this made the unease in his gut grow.
"What do you mean? You're saying Hale isn't the only one missing?"
Sister nodded gravely. "Yes, three boys and one girl... they've all disappeared without a trace. I've never seen anything like it. They were all here one moment... and then gone the next."
Edran's heart sank, but he didn't have time to dwell on the implications. He had to find Hale. There was no other choice.
Back in the Darkness
Hale's days in the prison had blurred into an endless cycle. Bread. Silence. Venom. Pain from the collar every time he tried to use his magic. He had long since given up hope of escape. The dark magic that kept him trapped was too powerful, too absolute. It was as though the universe itself had conspired to break him.
And yet, Hale refused to break. He wasn't the person who had entered this prison in their will. He enteredthe prisonin his own will and he also break free from this prison to his own free will.
He couldn't let them see him fall. He couldn't let them win.
But there was something else, something Hale had realized in the darkness. He knew this moment was coming—he had always known it. The darkness, the collar, the prison—it was part of the plan. But he hadn't expected it to be so... absolute. So complete.
And still, there was one thing Hale could cling to: his mind. He was still sharp. He was still in control.
"Don't think I've forgotten," he whispered to the spider. "I'll escape. I'll get out of here."
But the truth was, Hale knew it is a matter of time and the time will come. All he could do was wait—and keep his wits sharp, even if everything else was falling apart.
In the distance, beyond the walls of the prison, Hale's friends continued to search. They hadn't given up on him yet. And as much as he wished he could tell them the truth, he knew that they were already looking in the wrong places.
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