Legs on fire, Reginald's sentencing lasted an eternity. Was listing all his dastardly deeds in detail part of the torture process itself? You couldn't convince the captured CEO otherwise. At the brink of exhaustion, the shackled man spaced out to the point where one eye grew lazy. So much, the majority of the amazons exiting the arena failed to register like Nalaita's words. 

“Stand, insect!” He heard that clearly. It was finally time to be transported. Grips like hawk’s talons snatched Reginald's slumping body as two Orichalca warriors on the younger side flew him directly into one of the arena’s waterfalls. Gasping for air, coughing a pint of water out his lungs, the sight of a rocky door closer to a stone slab stood before him. Illuminating gold glyphs carved themselves into the mountain space as the two warriors drew them with rays from their glowing white eyes. A quaking split pulled the mountain apart like elevator doors. It was one of many hidden entrances to the prison.

Inside it was dark, cold, damp, with only a gentle breeze and the deceptively quiet, gracefully flapping wings of his captors reminding him of his descent downwards to who knows where. After several minutes, a faint light below became larger. With each meter downwards, it grew stronger, brighter, transmitting heat as the soles of the disgraced CEO's shoes singed his feet. At this point, the sweltering glimmers blinded him. Reginald just couldn't keep his eyes open. Finally managing to, the sight before him defied his imagination.

Countless canals of molten gold flowed like rapids, weaving in and around intricately carved sprawling cave systems rooted in the core of the asteroid. Endless lines of laboring souls of many shapes, sizes, builds and races draped in mails of metals sizzling against their flesh lugged crates of pirated golds from the last Orichalca excursion, dumping troves into a skyscraping mound of treasures centering the prison. It was probably the largest collection of rare golds in the multiverse. As bleak as Reginald's situation was, being that he too soon would join the chain of slaves, a devious thought, just one that relied on the slither of a chance he'd manage to escape crossed his mind. It lingered in the back of his mind like a malignant tumor, growing with each second spent in this wretched jail, soon to break him. Before then, he had to get out…

[i]"I will see you again, Victoria…” [/i]

In what appeared to be a rare display of mercy, Reginald found himself not immediately tossed into the work lines to slave away, but on the warm marble floors of a dark cell. He wouldn’t be an effective laborer after his last eventful twenty-four hours, so for the remainder of the day, they left him be. At this point, the loneliness of a quiet cell felt comforting. The disgraced CEO didn't question it, overstimulated photoreceptor cells still blasting dancing images behind the blackness of his eyelids. His eyes throbbed as strongly as his heart beat. 

[i][b]“I give you credit. Your resolve is slightly stronger than you look…”[/b][/i]

Reginald, suddenly jolted with energy out of confusion, jerked his head around. Who whispered into his ear? There was no one around but a severely emaciated corpse chained in the corner, and everyone in the opposing cells looked as miserable as he did, lacking even the energy to acknowledge him. Even so, he briefly felt a chilling breath against his ear. The voice again echoed, reverberating through the hollows, but drew no response from the Orichalca on watch. Reginald scanned around frantically. 

[i][b]“Don’t make it so obvious…”[/b][/i]

Only then did the shamed CEO realise who was communicating with him.

[i][b]“I can get you out of here. All I need… is a morsel of blood…”[/b][/i]