The moment Soren and the other two entered, the smaller prisoner approached a group of people he shook hands with in a certain rhythm.

They smiled, and some embraced him, happy to have him, like they had been waiting on him.

Soren, on the other hand, could not help but look around, wondering how he had hopped from the track of wanting to accomplish his dreams to rolling with unsavory fellas.

Life

He mumbled to himself.

The tiger-faced guy was the same, leaving Soren to a corner.

Even though three people had entered this place, Soren easily noticed one thing: all eyes were on him.

Some were even sneering, hissing, and spitting in disgust.

Although it was for a different reason than calling him Dungie or F—rank trash, the treatment was still the same.

He was used to it.

The first thing Soren noticed was that this place had a mix of genders.

Some women were doing workouts with the men, some playing a rag ball.

There were even some women openly flirting on their man's thighs, undisturbed or bothered.

Then again, this much was expected, as these prisoners were not normal people.

Soren had heard of them before.

The Glass had broken at random places in the world when the eldritch first came.

To this day, some of those glasses not only exist, but new ones have been added.

Every now and then, the empire would make sure to send the judicators of the glass to seal it.

Nevertheless, some cracks were much smaller than most, and people who had never gone through the qualification test would touch the glass and bond with Souls.

Most had no loyalty to the Almace empire and just wanted to survive.

And so they did.

This prison was made for them. But given their obviously special situation, when they committed crimes, they were not locked in normal prisons.

At the same time, the Empire could not be bothered about building facilities to separate the genders.

That costs money.

A few girls winked Soren's way. There was one in particular, with green hair, that looked at him like prey waiting to fall in a trap.

But Soren was not interested in them. He had other things on his mind.

Above, he could see those high towers had guards patrolling the place with their guns.

They would look into the prison yard from time to time, ensuring order.

But what really caught his attention were the two Soul Mechas; their backs could be seen clearly from his position.

Oh, what a wonderful sight to behold. With all that had happened to him, this was probably the best gift he could receive.

The wonderful opportunity to set eyes on such graceful...

—thud.

His thought process was interrupted by an aggressive shoulder brush, from a huge man with black palmed hair.

"Watch where you're looking, whitey." He spoke predatorily, giving Soren a menacing look as he drew in an aggressive snort and spat on Soren's leg. "Empire Trash."

'Whitezz' in the carriage here, and now 'Empire trash.' All derogatory names because he was a cadet of the Imperial Soulforge Academy.

Soren had a feeling he was going to be getting more.

This was both irritating and infuriating, but what really caught his attention was the man's neck.

—Ring.

Soren's triangular pendant dangled around his thick muscular neck, reflecting the light of the sun.

Soren's eyes widened.

"Hey, that's mine!"

"—what you say to me, whitey?" The man turned, stance aggressive, with muscles already veined and prepared to rumble.

Soren paused.

He wanted to do something, pull his necklace from the man's neck.

But then looked around, cameras on every corner.

They were very watched. A guard high up was already observing their confrontation with the muzzle of his gun, itching to be raised.

Also, Soren's body was still terribly wounded.

And since his connection to Chronovore was cut, he could tell that he was not healing as fast as he did before.

Definitely not the best time to engage in a brawl.

Soren turned to the smaller prisoner he had come with.

The fellow gave Soren a cheeky 'I got you' smile from across the yard.

His fists tightened, but then he took a deep breath, calming himself down.

"Yeah, I thought so... Bitch." The man, obviously three times his size, groaned, walking away.

The yard had been looking at him; a few of them hissed in disappointment.

The group of women looking his way even gave a disgusted look, turning their focus to the man with a tiger painted on his face.

Even the prisoner with a helmet on, sitting alone at a corner no one dared to approach, shook his head.

Soren would have to get his pendant another way.

There was order here. Maybe reporting to a guard. Of course, he would have to explain how it passed security in the first place.

—Diiiing.

A loud, obnoxious bell was heard.

As if on command, the prisoners moved, all of them passing through a huge door.

Soren did not know why, but he could tell he had to follow.

As he did, a voice, light and feminine, reached his ears.

"If you keep worrying about the guards' opinion, they are going to eat you up in this place."

Soren turned quickly but saw no one. It was either the person had come and left fast, or they had somehow whispered into his ears from a distance.

Either was terrifying.

Still. He walked with the crowd of orange-ill-suited people into a room that opened into a cafeteria.

The sight of it made Soren's face sore a bit.

It's not that he was not hungry. In fact, he was.

It's just that the last cafeteria he entered scarred him a bit.

The cafeteria was orderly, but careful observation showed that people sat with their clique.

They were guards at major points, exits, and toilet areas.

Soren followed the cue like everyone else, took a tray and a plate, and waited for his turn.

The sight of the food here made his eyes wide with shock.

It was far better than what he had ever seen in his town.

Not that it was anything close to what the cadets ate, but it looked good.

And the best part was that they were allowed to serve themselves.

Evidently, the empire was not poor.

Are these guys even prisoners? They are living like kings.

Soren put some meat on his plate. He had not had those in a while. Some vegetable sauce and a carrot, because it kind of reminded him of Polystar.

It was simple, but it was good enough. Very good enough.

He had a lot to think about, but for now, he was going to first eat his fill.

He took his tray to a table no one was sitting at, a good distance from most people but closer to the toilet.

He did not mind. However, just when he was about to dig into it, a huge hand dug into his food and seized his carrot...

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