Welcome to the Citadel; a prison for teenage abominations like you. Why are you an abomination? Because you were born with a supernatural power that makes you a threat to the people, and you were taken from your parents when you were born, as the curse was found in your DNA. Your home is a stone tile cell with no windows and power dampeners line the outside of the prison room to keep you in check. After all, you're a virus to society and must be isolated from the public to ensure their safety. You have no chance of escape, so please: make yourself at home.
Xenon sighed quietly as he sat against the wall of his cell. His normally bright eyes from his past were now quite dim as he repeatedly tossed an apple into the air, catching it in his hand before throwing again. The apple was part of his meager "lunch" (if that's what the guards wanted to call it), and it was given to him along with a small bowl of bland porridge and stale bread. When the prisoners were given their food, they were free to roam around the prison room, but nowhere else. The Korean teen preferred to stay in his cell and eat, as he knew what came next. Their break time out of their cells would be over in 15 minutes, and the guards would, quite forcibly, direct the prisoners back into their cells for the rest of the day, armed with tranquilizer dart guns and metal poles tipped with power nullifying electricity on both sides, should a "situation" come up. It was just life around here.
Xenon took a small nibble from his apple, which tasted unusually salty-- he had no idea how that was possible-- and stared up at the ceiling where a single bright light hung from a metal cord. Having lived in this condition for about 2 years since he was captured, he had grown slightly accustomed to how it was in this hellhole, but there was never a time where the teen pondered an escape plan. One day, I'll get out of here. But he knew, and he was sure all the other prisoners knew as well, that today was not that day.
Xenon sighed quietly as he sat against the wall of his cell. His normally bright eyes from his past were now quite dim as he repeatedly tossed an apple into the air, catching it in his hand before throwing again. The apple was part of his meager "lunch" (if that's what the guards wanted to call it), and it was given to him along with a small bowl of bland porridge and stale bread. When the prisoners were given their food, they were free to roam around the prison room, but nowhere else. The Korean teen preferred to stay in his cell and eat, as he knew what came next. Their break time out of their cells would be over in 15 minutes, and the guards would, quite forcibly, direct the prisoners back into their cells for the rest of the day, armed with tranquilizer dart guns and metal poles tipped with power nullifying electricity on both sides, should a "situation" come up. It was just life around here.
Xenon took a small nibble from his apple, which tasted unusually salty-- he had no idea how that was possible-- and stared up at the ceiling where a single bright light hung from a metal cord. Having lived in this condition for about 2 years since he was captured, he had grown slightly accustomed to how it was in this hellhole, but there was never a time where the teen pondered an escape plan. One day, I'll get out of here. But he knew, and he was sure all the other prisoners knew as well, that today was not that day.
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