Bab 29: THIS IS WHAT BETRAYAL FEELS LIKE [2]
Ravan's journey from the Awakening Courts to his new prison was a blur of steel bars and muffled whispers.
He was crammed into the back of a heavily armored transport vehicle, the mana-sealing cuffs digging into his wrists.
His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder of his impending fate.
The vehicle rumbled down a long, winding road, surrounded by dense, dark forests. After what felt like hours, they arrived at their destination.
Ravan peered through the small barred window of the vehicle, his eyes widening at the sight.
The facility was a colossal fortress, built into the side of a jagged mountain.
It was known as The Dungeon of Exiles, a place where the worst criminals among the awakened were sent.
Its vastness was intimidating, a labyrinth of stone and steel designed to contain the most dangerous individuals.
Towering walls surrounded the complex, topped with razor wire and patrolled by guards with watchful eyes.
The transport came to a halt, and Ravan was roughly pulled from the vehicle.
He stumbled slightly, the mana-sealing cuffs making his movements awkward and painful.
The guards flanking him were stern and unyielding, their faces masked by helmets.
"Welcome to your new home," one of them muttered sarcastically as they led him through the massive iron gates.
The interior of the Dungeon of Exiles was a stark contrast to the outside world.
The air was heavy with a sense of despair, the walls lined with cells that seemed to stretch on endlessly.
The dim lighting cast long shadows, creating an eerie atmosphere.
The silence was occasionally broken by the distant sounds of chains rattling and the muffled cries of inmates.
As Ravan was escorted deeper into the facility, he couldn't help but notice the other prisoners.
They were a mix of hardened criminals, many with visible scars and expressions of hopelessness.
Some glared at him with cold, calculating eyes, while others simply stared vacantly, as if they had already resigned themselves to their fate.
The guards led Ravan to a central processing area, where he was forced to undergo a series of checks.
His belongings were confiscated, and he was made to strip down for a thorough search.
Every inch of him was inspected, ensuring he had no hidden weapons or contraband.
'Why are they searching me so violently, even if I had a weapon I wouldn't know how to wield one,'Ravan thought.
'Apart from mana, I lack Vital as well.'
Vital was a special type of energy that unlike mana strengthned ones body and allowed them to extend part of it into the weapons one wielded.
It was common amongst swordsmen and warrior type Tower Walkers.
The process was humiliating, but Ravan endured it in silence, his mind numb from the overwhelming reality of his situation.
'I feel violated,' Ravan mumbled to himself, sneering at the guard who had just run his greasy fingers all over him.
*Tsk...
Once the checks were complete, he was given a standard-issue prison uniform—a coarse, gray jumpsuit that was itchy and uncomfortable.
'This was definitely wore by someone else from the looks of it,'Diaval thought but wire it anyways. He knew his noble and lavish life was long gone.
The guards then led him down a long corridor, past rows of cells filled with the most dangerous and notorious criminals in the region.
"Stay close and don't make any sudden moves," one of the guards warned, his voice a low growl.
Ravan nodded, his throat dry.
As they continued, he overheard snippets of conversations between inmates and guards, the words often laced with bitterness and resentment.
"This place will break you if you let it," an older inmate muttered to him as they passed.
"Stay strong, kid."
Ravan barely had time to process the advice before they arrived at his cell.
It was small and bare, with a narrow bed, a rusted sink, and a filthy toilet.
The walls were covered in graffiti, a testament to the many inmates who had passed through before him.
The guard unlocked the cell door and shoved him inside.
"Get comfortable," the guard sneered before slamming the door shut with a resounding clang.
Ravan stood there for a moment, taking in his new surroundings. The reality of his situation settled heavily on his shoulders.
He was now a prisoner in one of the most notorious facilities for the awakened, a place where survival was a daily struggle.
'They knew I'm not an awakened but still put me here, wouldn't a normal prison do?'
'But I guess it makes their work easier for the Dungeon Row tomorrow,' Ravan pondered.
He moved to the narrow bed and sat down, his thoughts racing.
The betrayal by Rina, the smirks of Rhett and Riker, the disappointment in his father's eyes—it all swirled in his mind, a chaotic storm of emotions.
He felt a pang of anger, but also a deep sense of despair.
As he sat there, lost in thought, the cell block echoed with the sounds of the other inmates.
Some were arguing, others were crying, and a few were silent, their presence marked only by the faint rustle of their movements.
Ravan leaned back against the cold stone wall, his mind drifting to his mother's words about trust and betrayal.
In the midst of his turmoil, a voice broke through the noise.
"Hey, new guy," someone called from the cell across from him.
"What's your story?"
Ravan looked up, his eyes meeting those of a fellow inmate.
The man was older, with a grizzled beard and piercing brown eyes. There was a hardness to his gaze, but also a flicker of curiosity.
"What's your name kid?"
"Ravan," he replied hesitantly, his voice hoarse.
"Ravan Zenith."
The man's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Zenith? As in the Zenith family?"
Ravan nodded, the weight of his family name feeling like a curse.
"Yeah. Not that it matters here."
The older inmate chuckled, a sound that was more bitter than amused.
"Names matter everywhere, kid. Especially in a place like this."
Ravan sighed, leaning his head back against the wall.
"I guess so."
The man studied him for a moment before speaking again.
"I'm Garth. Been here a long time. If you need any advice, just ask."
Ravan nodded gratefully, though he wasn't sure what kind of advice could help him in a place like this.
As the hours passed, he tried to make sense of his situation, the events that had led him to the Dungeon of Exiles, and what his future might hold.
Despite the hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm him, a small spark of determination flickered in his heart.
He wouldn't let this place break him. He would survive, and somehow, he would find a way to clear his name and reclaim his life.
"I still want that lavish and simple life in the Southern Continent..."
"And I'll get it no matter what..."
As the darkness of the cell closed in around him, Ravan made a silent vow.
No matter what it took, he would endure.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
HeavenlyMike
HeavenlyMike DUNGEON ROW BEGINS!!!
Hadiah
-- Hadiah diterima Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone