Back at Ebon Crest Tower, Don and Charles were currently in cell within the lower levels.
The room they were placed in didn't match the word *cell*.
Not at first glance.
Reinforced walls lined every side, smooth and seamless, layered in a brushed silver finish that reflected light in muted tones rather than harsh glare.
Panels were embedded cleanly into the structure—weapon racks, storage compartments, sealed lockers—all arranged with careful spacing.
Nothing cluttered.
Nothing misplaced.
And yet—
It carried weight.
The air itself felt denser, regulated. Subtle hums moved through the walls—
Vmmmm—~
Environmental systems running beneath the surface, maintaining pressure, temperature, stability.
Along the far side, a long counter displayed equipment already laid out in sections. Armor pieces rested in fitted slots, weapons locked into place beneath transparent shielding, each labeled and organized with military precision.
Even the flooring—
