Faint echoes of distant footsteps filled the air in the dungeon. Claudius, the jester, moved silently through the shadowed halls, his bells muted by deft hands. His mismatched eyes—one a sharp green, the other dulled with a milky film—scanned the corridor ahead, catching the faint glint of torchlight against the damp stone walls. The air was heavy with the acrid tang of sweat and mildew, punctuated by the occasional rattle of chains from unseen prisoners. The figure he followed, clad in a flowing, dark cloak, stopped near a solitary confinement cell, dismissing the two guards stationed nearby with a curt wave. Claudius exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a sly grin as he recognised Herzog approaching the cell. Interesting.

  The guards, heads bowed in deference, retreated down the hall, their boots echoing in the cavernous space. As they passed Claudius, they nodded briskly, their eyes darting to his distinctive face but offering no more than a respectful salute. He inclined his head briefly, then turned his focus back to the unfolding scene. The guards had vanished around the corner, leaving the corridor deathly still. He crept closer, his polished boots making no sound against the cold stone floor, and pressed himself against the wall near the corner. From this vantage point, he could hear every word.

  “What were you thinking, entering the Royal Chambers?” Herzog’s voice carried an edge, low and controlled but bristling with fury.

  “Father, I was just trying to stop—” Hiro’s voice faltered, quivering under the weight of Herzog’s sudden command.

  “Silence!” Herzog barked.

  The sharpness of his voice seemed to cut through the stagnant air, and for a moment, all was still.

  Inside the cell, Hiro’s voice broke the silence, trembling. “Is it true, then? What I saw in there—was it true?”

  “Stop talking about it,” Herzog hissed, his tone dropping to a frantic whisper. “Don’t you ever talk to anyone about it. Do you understand me? You deserve the death sentence for what you saw.”

  Claudius was fully aware that only one secret was grave enough to deserve this punishment, reducing Herzog, the ever-composed, ever-unyielding enforcer of Carnifex’s laws, to such desperation. He tilted his head, amused. What about the future of Carnifex?

  “I didn’t know,” Hiro protested, his voice cracking.

  Herzog’s breathing grew heavier. “Is it that difficult for you to follow the rules? After everything I’ve taught you?”

  The faint glow of the torches barely reached the edges of the corridor where Claudius stood, but he could still picture Herzog’s face contorted in fury, the veins bulging in his neck as he struggled to maintain control.

  “Please, let me explain,” Hiro began again.

  Herzog cut him off with a heavy sigh.

  When he spoke next, his tone shifted, weighted with something far more complex than anger. “I’ve given you everything, everything one could wish for in this world. I never asked for anything in return. But this…”

  Not the model children you thought.

  A sudden commotion erupted somewhere deeper in the prison. A distant clamour of frantic whispers echoed down the halls. Claudius stiffened, instinctively pressing himself flatter against the wall. Torchlight flickered, casting wild shadows across the stone. The lack of stomping boots could only mean one thing: A prison break was unravelling.

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  “Great work, Ed,” Herzog muttered under his breath, a bitter chuckle escaping him. “You’ve played your part well, if I may say so myself.”

  Herzog turned sharply toward the noise, his back now fully exposed to Claudius’ hidden gaze. For a moment, Claudius thought Herzog would spring into action, commanding guards and restoring order as was his duty. But Herzog hesitated. Claudius watched as the man stepped back, retreating into the shadows instead of moving to stop the escape. Yes, little Alois! Yes! This is a chance and you have to take it!

  The group of prisoners whisked by the far end of the corridor and Claudius could make out Stick’s orange hair against the darkness. You’ve seen enough to piece it together. You are a danger now.

  He turned around to make sure that Herzog had seen them too.

  Herzog’s face lit up, as an idea popped into his head. “You have to go. Now!”

  “What are you talking about?” Hiro demanded with a panicked voice.

  Herzog didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his trembling fingers summoned his Inventory, the glowing interface appearing briefly before him. From within, he produced a small, ornate key, its intricate design glinting faintly in the dim light.

  Hiro’s brow furrowed. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

  “There are other prisoners on the run,” Herzog said hastily, unlocking the cell door with a metallic click. His voice was rushed, his movements frantic. “This is your last chance if you don’t want to end up in the hole.”

  “No!” Hiro shook his head, stepping back as if the open door were a threat. “I don’t want to run. I want to fix this. I need answers. I—”

  “Go!” For the first time, Herzog’s voice carried something raw—pleading. “You don’t understand, Hiro. There are forces at play here you can’t begin to grasp.”

  Tears welled in Hiro’s eyes, but he didn’t move. “Father, please—”

  “Stop calling me that!” Herzog roared, his words reverberating off the cold stone walls. His shoulders sagged immediately after, as if the outburst had drained the last of his strength. He lowered his voice, trembling now. “Don’t call me father. I didn’t raise a criminal.”

  Hiro froze, his breath catching in his throat. His gaze locked on Herzog’s face, searching for some hint of the man he had once admired.

  “What are you saying?” he whispered.

  Herzog stepped forward and grabbed his son by the arm, dragging him toward the corridor. “I’m saying you don’t belong here anymore. Leave the kingdom of Carnifex and never come back.”

  Hiro stumbled, catching himself against the cold stone wall. His lip trembled as he turned back, his tear-streaked face meeting Herzog’s expression—a mixture of pain, disappointment, and sorrow. Without another word, Hiro turned and ran. Oh, you poor little thing.

  Herzog slumped against the cell door, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He buried his face in his hands, his presence suddenly small and fragile, more appropriate for his stature.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this emotional,” Claudius said, his tone mocking yet oddly gentle.

  Herzog’s head snapped up, his bloodshot eyes narrowing.

  “Claudius!” he snarled, rising to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

  Claudius stepped forward, the faint light catching the enigmatic expression of his mask. “I just wanted to check in on our little Hiro. See to it that his topics of discussion haven’t changed after his life-changing trip to the Royal Chambers. But it seems, that his cell is both unguarded and… unlocked.”

  Herzog’s face darkened.

  “Yes, we have to raise the alarm,” he said, his voice straining for authority.

  “Yes,” Claudius echoed with a smirk. “We must find that criminal son of yours, of course.”

  Suspicion and anger warred on Herzog’s face. “What do you want?”

  “Ever the businessman, I see,” Claudius’ tone turned oily. “But no, I don’t want anything from you. I’m worried about Hiro too, you know. Let’s just wait on that alarm for a bit and give him a fighting chance. After all, isn’t that what a good father would do?”

  “And what about those other prisoners that escaped?”

  Claudius chuckled, stepping closer until he could see the fear behind Herzog’s carefully controlled expression. “Maybe there is something that I want.”

  Herzog’s fists clenched, but he said nothing.

  A smile crept behind Claudius’ mask as he leaned in. “How about we both forget what we saw here today?”

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