Tom wasn't interested in working late that night, and frankly, I couldn't blame him. The fear of running into Sebastian again was enough reason, but after missing lunch, Tom was completely drained. Not that anyone dared complain about skipping a meal after Harold's brutal display. By the time third meal rolled around, everyone in the hall ate in reverent silence, scarfing down the stew like it was ambrosia from the gods. You wouldn't have guessed it from how quickly everyone ate but I could have sworn Harold had used old clothes as ingredients.

It wasn't all bad, though. I got a chance to test my power again, this time seeing how it would handle hunger. It drained my mana considerably, but the result was promising: if I was ever in a pinch or on the run, I could substitute food with my healing magic, at least temporarily. I kept my discovery quiet for obvious reasons, but excitement buzzed through me at the new possibilities.

As I choked down that third meal, I seriously considered using my power again to avoid forcing the vile concoction into my stomach. I reasoned I could get away with it if I pocketed the food, or convinced Tom to eat it outside with me. In the end though, I decided against it. It wasn't worth depleting my mana is what I told myself. It certainly had nothing to do with Harold's reaction if I were caught leaving food uneaten.

With nothing else to do that evening, I allowed myself a full night's sleep. It was difficult to resist using my power and lie awake, restless in that miserable cell. I'd done enough of that since the train job. Still, waking the next morning, I regretted my decision instantly, groaning as my body protested with every ache and pain that sleeping in a damp dungeon had inflicted upon me. So far I had been really fortunate with my abilities but I couldn't help lamenting the fact they weren't all powerful. I wanted to use my mana for everything, forgoing anything arduous and bringing myself pleasure. Alas, even with magic, life wasn't that easy.

Surprisingly, the day went by quite quickly. We hadn't been able to make enough progress on the wall because Tom had wanted to be back in the cell at nightfall so we were forced to put in more effort during the shift, fixing up as much as we physically could.

Well, in Tom's case anyway. I just kept to normal standards which I figured was barely outpacing Tom's work. It was lucky we had chosen to work where we did as far as I was concerned. Yes, it was more work than I initially expected but because of how intense it was, our minds were mostly kept from the impending arrival of the prison conscripts, and more specifically, Grian, who finally arrived after we finished lunch.

"Riders approaching," came a call from the gatehouse as we headed back to the Fracture facing side of the wall.

Hearing the shout, Tom and I stopped to see what was going on. A mystery that was solved a moment later when we saw the gates open wide and familiar prison guards escorting a large group of prisoners. My first thought on seeing them was that they looked a battered mess, worse even than we did. All of them seemed to be covered in dirt, and in a lot of cases, blood. It was clear to me that the guards had played the same game with them as they had with us: forcing the tethered prisoners to run too fast until they fell on their face. The difference between the two groups is that where we were tied one person per horse, they were in groups of three. I winced as I looked at them, thinking about the added pain of being dragged down with extra people's weight.

I continued watching, searching for a sign of One Eye amongst the exhausted prisoners but not seeing him in any of the trios that came in with the riders. As the courtyard filled up, I started to wonder if Sebastian had lied, and Billy had been wrong, and that Grian was not actually coming to take part in the Challenge. Only for my hope to be dashed when I saw the prison carriage that transported me come in through the gate. When the black wood entered through the gates, I knew instantly that he would be in there. Of course they wouldn't make him run along like another prisoner.

"These fucking seats!" shouted a familiar voice as the carriage door swung open. Grian stepped out, theatrically stretching his back and limbs "Can they really not stump up for some cushions? Sitting in that is worse than my years in Achrane."

Somewhat surprisingly, he wasn't restrained at all. No handcuffs, no chains, and not a single guard reacting to his rant, nor the fact he opened the door himself. Scanning the crowds, I noticed the head guard tighten his jaw slightly but other than that, there was no reaction at all. Grian stepped down from the carriage like he owned the place, stretching grotesquely, twisting himself every which way despite the obvious attention on him. It reminded me of a dog pissing on a wall. Marking his territory. He knew no one was going to say anything here, in the seat of his brother's power, and he was fully embracing it.

"Ah, that's better. Almost makes me envious of you runners," he sneered, a cruel smile on his face as he looked at one of the prisoners closest to him. When the man made eye contact, Grian stepped towards him like he was going to hit him then laughed when the man flinched. I knew Grian One Eye Selvig was a bad guy but this was the first time I was seeing him act this way. When we interacted before, he had always been somewhat cordial. Respectful even. What I was seeing here was the prison bully people feared. The man who controlled the prison population of those weaker than him. It made me glad I had never caved to his offers of friendship.

"Ah, it's good to be back!" Grian exclaimed, tilting his head skyward and taking an exaggerated, deep breath.

"Brother!" Sebastian's voice boomed across the courtyard, cutting through the murmurs as he strode forward. The crowd swiftly parted to make way, eyes wary, posture guarded. Sebastian's presence alone seemed to put everyone on edge.

The two brothers met with a firm embrace, heavy slaps exchanged on each other's backs, echoing sharply through the silence. When they separated, the deference was obvious as Grian subtly lowered his gaze, a sign of unmistakable respect towards Sebastian.

"It's good to see you," Sebastian said warmly, his voice almost gentle as he gripped the back of Grian's head with fingers long enough to engulf it entirely.

"You too," Grian replied, forcing a wide smile onto his face. He looked genuinely pleased, but beneath it I noticed a flicker of discomfort as Sebastian's fingers tightened just a fraction too much.

"And you're free now. Free!" Sebastian's grip tightened even further, shaking Grian's head lightly to emphasize his words. I saw a faint wince cross Grian's face before it was swiftly replaced by another broad grin.

"Well… soon enough," Grian murmured, downplaying his imminent freedom as he cast a careful glance at the gathered prisoners watching their exchange.

Sebastian released his hold abruptly, waving off the words with an impatient gesture.

"Pah, it's as good as done. I have seen them, and I know they will not be any trouble."

Grian's expression shifted from confidence to surprise. "You've seen them?"

Sebastian pouted, feigning offense. "Of course! Do you think I would risk our plans when I could confirm matters for myself?"

A brief flash of rage twisted Sebastian's features. Grian immediately recognized his mistake, shrinking back and hastily bowing his head in apology. "Forgive me, brother. I've clearly spent too long in the company of filth."

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Sebastian stared at him, eyes narrowed, weighing his younger brother's sincerity. After a tense moment, his expression relaxed, and instead of punishment, Sebastian merely brushed dirt from Grian's shoulders as if symbolically removing the stain of the prison.

"Yes, well, that's to be expected, isn't it?" Sebastian sighed, resignation mixing with disgust. "But I assure you, I have confirmed everything. The plan will proceed as intended. No matter what actually happens."

Both brothers shared a cruel, knowing smile. Grian's gaze wandered once more over the gathered prisoners, lingering until he found Tom and me. His one eye gleamed as his sardonic grin widened, eyes filled with cold amusement as though he was seeing his favourite victim.

Beside me, I could have sworn I audibly heard Tom gulp, and I pitied the man even more. Being the plaything of the Selvig brothers sounded worse than hell. I just hoped we could avoid them until my escape plan could be put in place.

Sebastian clapped him on the back, breaking the stare. "Come now, brother. Let's catch up properly. It's been far too long!"

With a final lingering glance, Grian turned and followed Sebastian out of the courtyard. Their departure left a tense silence behind, confusion and anxiety rippling quietly through the gathered crowd.

Tom glanced nervously at me, visibly shaken.

"That was weird, wasn't it?" I whispered, breaking the heavy silence that had settled between us after Sebastian and Grian's disturbing reunion. The rest of the crowd around us seemed to feel the same tension, slowly and awkwardly dispersing, none daring to speak above a low murmur. Sebastian's cruel aura still lingered in the air, a shadow casting dread over everyone present.

Tom let out a shaky breath. "Let's go," he muttered, barely audible. "Lot's of work to be done."

My attention drifted back toward the prisoners now being roughly gathered into groups by grim-faced guards. It was clear from their treatment and their condition that their role was not expected to be particularly glamorous. Their battered, exhausted forms spoke loudly enough, and combined with the lack of time to train it was obvious that hey were meant to be fodder, a buffer between the monsters and the Wallowhackers.

"Hold on a moment," I said, gripping Tom's arm gently as he began to turn away. "Let's see what they do with them first."

"Why?" Tom hissed, a sharp edge of anxiety creeping into his voice. "The less we have to do with them, the better."

"Trust me," I reassured him quietly. "We'll want to know how they're planning to use them."

Reluctantly, Tom settled beside me, though I could feel his tension radiating as we stood and listened to the shouted instructions from the guards. His feet moving every moment as he ached to get back to the wall.

"All right, listen up!" a voice shouted over the murmuring prisoners. "You will spend the next few days undergoing intensive training. Consider it a crash course so that you don't die in the first wave. Those of you who survive will become front-line defenders during the Challenge. I don't have to tell you that your job isn't enviable, do I? You're here to slow the demons down. Anything more will be a bonus."

There was a visible ripple of fear and anger through the prisoners, but none dared to protest openly. The Wallowhackers present laughed quietly among themselves, clearly entertained by the misery unfolding before them.

"They're really going to do it," Tom muttered bitterly. "Use them as living shields."

"Looks like it," I agreed grimly. "But why wait so late to bring them here? Even if they're expendable, wouldn't it make sense to at least try and prepare them properly?"

"Why would they care about that? There's always more prisoners."

His words hung heavy between us, chilling me to the bone. It was a cold, harsh strategy but made sickening sense when I thought about Sebastian's sadism and the casual cruelty of the Wallowhackers. Why would they care about keeping prisoners alive? All that meant was more work for them to do in the prison. More coin for them to spend.

"You're probably right," I admitted softly, feeling a surge of disgust for the entire operation. The question was, how would this affect my own plan? On the one hand, the clearly scared conscripts might draw attention away from me, but their panic could just as easily tighten security everywhere. It was a risk I'd need to calculate carefully.

"We should get out of here," Tom urged anxiously, tugging at my sleeve. "I don't wanna be caught watching this. They might think we're up to something. Unless…"

He paused for a moment, looking to the crowd and then back at me.

"Unless we are up to something?" His words were hesitant, almost scared. As if just speaking them would bring him harm.

I looked down at him, taking in his demeanour, the look on his face, his entire being. For a moment I thought he was going to say something else. His eyes seemed to flicker between hope and fear.

"Right," I agreed, finally breaking away. "Let's get back to the wall.Don't want to make them think we're up to something right? That wouldn't be good at all."

Tom nodded, relief evident in his face as we headed swiftly away from the grim spectacle. But even as we walked, my mind continued churning, wrestling with what I needed to do to get out.

We worked flat out for the rest of the shift. In a reversal of roles, Tom was now the one trying to talk to me while I kept my responses brief and vague. It felt strange, being on the other side of that dynamic, but I knew I had to keep my intentions hidden. Every instinct told me it was too dangerous to reveal my plan prematurely, especially after witnessing how quickly Tom had broken under Sebastian's cruel words.

"So, uh, Brandon," Tom began hesitantly as he adjusted a stone block into place, clearly trying to mask his nerves. "What do ya reckon about all this, then? Pretty bleak, isn't it?"

I shrugged noncommittally, focusing on mixing mortar. "Yeah, it's pretty bad. But we just gotta keep working and stay out of trouble."

Tom paused, frustration flickering across his face. Clearly, it wasn't the response he was hoping for.

"Sure, sure," he said awkwardly, shifting on his feet. "But…y'know. Seems like they're busy now, probably not watching us much. Might be a good time to…do something else. Y'know?"

I felt a pang of guilt. It was obvious he was desperate, looking for any opening to discuss escape. The fear in his eyes was raw, barely concealed. But I couldn't let him bait me into admitting anything.

"Do something else?" I asked innocently, keeping my voice neutral. "I'm not sure what you mean. If we move on from this wall, I'm not sure it'll ever get fixed."

Tom swallowed hard, clearly disappointed. He hesitated for a moment, then gave a nervous laugh, clearly uncomfortable.

"Right, right," he mumbled, "the wall. It's important. Just thinking out loud, that's all."

As the evening wore on, Tom grew increasingly desperate. His hints became more transparent, bordering on frantic. He mentioned repeatedly how distracted the guards seemed, how little attention they were paying to us with the new arrivals and Sebastian's presence. Each time, I deflected, pretending to be unaware of the implications.

"It's funny, isn't it?" Tom tried again, his voice almost shaking now. "They've got all these new lads to worry about, making sure they don't run off or something. We're probably not even on their radar now, are we? Almost like we could…y'know, slip away without them noticing."

I looked away, pretending to study the wall closely. "I wouldn't count on that, Tom. I wouldn't put it past Sebastian to be watching us at all times."

Tom let out a defeated sigh, clearly struggling not to snap at me. I could see the frustration and fear building up in him, but I forced myself to stay resolute. I couldn't afford to trust him yet, not until the last moment when his fear wouldn't sabotage us.

By the time we finally packed up our tools, darkness had fully settled, the courtyard lit only by scattered torchlight. Tom moved slowly, his shoulders slumped in resignation. He no longer looked at me, instead keeping his gaze fixed to the ground, visibly dejected.

"Right," he finally said, voice flat and hollow. "Suppose we'd best get back to the cells, then."

"Yeah," I agreed quietly. "Early start tomorrow."

He didn't respond. As we walked back, the silence between us felt heavy and oppressive, broken only by the distant murmuring of voices and the occasional clank of metal. Tom looked utterly defeated, each step radiating exhaustion and hopelessness. My heart twisted with guilt, but I kept reminding myself that this was for both our sakes.

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