Capítulo 6: Factions
The prison was never still. Even in the early hours, when dim light barely filtered through the tiny, grime-coated windows, Jamie could feel the restless energy simmering beneath the surface. The corridors and square were alive with silent arrangements, shifting alliances, and a power structure as tight as the prison walls themselves. He had no intention of throwing himself into the chaos unprepared.
Observing quietly from the edges of the square, Jamie watched as groups of inmates gathered in tight clusters. Each group had a visible pecking order; certain inmates moved through the crowd with ease, like lions in a pack of wolves, their gazes level and assessing. Others gave them a wide berth or quickly adjusted their positions. It was clear that these "mini-lords" held some measure of influence over their respective factions, even if Keys was the true power in the prison.
"Quite a sight, isn't it?" Alex's voice came from behind, cheerful and low, but with a hint of something sharper beneath. "Not the friendliest place, but it has its… charm."
Jamie turned, raising an eyebrow. "So this is the prison hierarchy? It's almost organized."
Alex shrugged, looking around with a slight smirk. "Organized? Maybe. But this place has more politics than a royal court. The ones you're looking at? They're the mini-lords. Small-timers, but still powerful enough to be useful. Or dangerous." He glanced sidelong at Jamie. "Depends how close you plan on getting."
Jamie absorbed this in silence. He'd seen the power shifts from a distance, but now he needed the details, however reluctantly Alex might share them.
"You've got Keys at the top, obviously," Alex continued, almost as if he could sense Jamie's curiosity. "Everyone's either trying to get into his good graces or keep out of his way. But then you've got the mid-rankers, the ones who run little fiefdoms around here. They keep their own gangs and control different parts of the prison. Some of 'em have… interesting skills. Makes 'em tricky."
"Tricky how?" Jamie kept his tone even, but he could see Alex was choosing his words carefully.
"Skills vary. Not everyone's open about theirs, but you pick up clues if you watch long enough." Alex's gaze sharpened, a trace of challenge in his eyes. "What're you hoping to get out of this, anyway?"
"Just trying to stay alive," Jamie replied, keeping his expression neutral. "Can't hurt to know the lay of the land."
A faint grin played at the corners of Alex's mouth, but he let it go. "Right. Well, if you're planning to join anyone, I'd stay clear of Keys and his bunch, for now at least. Everyone's got their eyes on each other, and trust me, no one's keen on helping some newbie climb the ladder."
Jamie glanced toward a small group of inmates standing off to the side, heads close together, voices low. They didn't look like much—wiry, underfed—but there was something purposeful in the way they carried themselves, like a collective determination holding them together.
"What about them?" Jamie asked, nodding subtly in their direction.
Alex's eyes followed his gaze. "Rebel's faction. They're a strange lot, more interested in finding ways out than running the place. But that's the appeal, right? Rumor has it Rebel actually knows something, a way out or at least a lead. Problem is, it's always just a whisper. No one's seen him pull it off."
"A faction focused on escape," Jamie mused, mentally cataloging each point. "Sounds like a good group to keep an eye on."
"If you're into lost causes, sure," Alex replied with a dry chuckle. "Rebel's got his own reasons, but his group isn't much of a force here. They keep out of most conflicts, stick to their own, and try not to get noticed. That's probably why they're still around."
The idea of a faction openly dedicated to leaving the prison intrigued Jamie, but he doubted Rebel's motives were as straightforward as they seemed. Escape was a powerful lure in this place, but it was also a good cover for hidden agendas. Jamie filed that thought away for later.
"And the others?" Jamie asked, his tone light, as though he was only vaguely interested.
Alex gave him an appraising look, then sighed. "There's Sad face and his crew. You probably noticed them already. He runs a tight little gang, controls access to some of the better cells and food trades. That's his angle—security. If you pay the price, he'll make sure you're protected, at least from anyone outside his faction."
"Protection for a price." Jamie glanced toward the corner of the square where Sad face and his followers loitered, every one of them looking as guarded and suspicious as their leader. "And if you can't pay?"
Alex's smile widened, faintly amused. "Then you're out of luck. Sad face doesn't give favors. You're either useful to him, or you're nothing."
"Interesting." Jamie's mind whirred, analyzing and sorting the information. Each of these factions represented a different opportunity, or a potential threat. Keys' faction was powerful but controlling; Rebel's seemed to prioritize freedom, albeit without the strength to back it up; and Sad face's operated on pure survival tactics, like some gritty form of capitalism within the prison walls.
None of them felt trustworthy.
He glanced at Alex. "And where do you fit in all this? You don't seem like the faction type."
Alex shrugged, keeping his expression deliberately neutral. "Let's just say I'm flexible. Sad face's gang and Keys' bunch know I'm useful enough to leave alone, and Rebel? He's fine with letting people do their thing, as long as they're not dragging him into trouble."
"So you float between them?" Jamie asked, careful not to sound too intrigued.
"You could say that." Alex's tone was still casual, but his gaze held a challenge. "I'm just not big on picking sides. It's better to keep options open, you know?"
Jamie nodded, keeping his expression unreadable. Alex was more complex than he let on, a free agent with enough reputation to earn tolerance from the main players, but shrewd enough to avoid commitment. He wondered if Alex's "flexibility" was intentional or simply a survival mechanism that had become a way of life.
After a moment of silence, Jamie folded his arms, looking back at the groups scattered around the square. "So, each group has its strengths and weaknesses, but none are safe bets."
"Bingo," Alex said with a wry grin. "You're catching on. Don't get too cozy with anyone. There's always a price."
Jamie's gaze drifted across the square, mentally mapping out the territory each faction seemed to control. The prison was more complex than he'd expected, like a chessboard with pieces constantly shifting in a game no one would ever fully master. It was a brutal but calculated world, and one wrong step could mean a swift, silent end.
He took a breath, processing everything Alex had said, then turned back to his cellmate. "And what about Keys' faction? You said it's best to avoid them, but why? What does he offer that keeps people loyal?"
Alex's expression turned sharp, and for the first time, Jamie saw a flicker of genuine caution in his eyes. "Keys isn't like the others. He doesn't have to offer anything because people know what happens if they defy him." He paused, lowering his voice. "He's got… ways of making sure everyone understands who's in charge. Rumor has it that if you step out of line, he can make things… disappear."
"Disappear?" Jamie raised an eyebrow, leaning in. "You mean people?"
"People, things, information. Whatever he wants, really," Alex replied, his tone dropping to a near whisper. "The thing about Keys is, he doesn't just rule through fear. He has this ability—it's subtle, but it's enough to make you feel weaker just being in his presence. And in a place like this, where everyone's already on edge, that little nudge downward? It's enough to make a man break. I heard it's called a domain."
Jamie's mind whirred with possibilities. His mind was not at ease hearing of this "Domain" ability, the one that supposedly gave Keys dominance over another. It was like a mental chokehold, a way to make inmates feel helpless before they even faced him. Jamie could see why it would be so effective here.
"So that's why people stay loyal," Jamie murmured, half to himself. "Because the alternative is… worse."
Alex nodded, his eyes distant. "Exactly. Loyalty is about survival here, not trust. Everyone's got secrets, but Keys… he's the only one who knows everyone's. He doesn't just hold power—he has control, and that's what makes him dangerous."
Jamie let that sink in, his mind clicking through possibilities. Keys had built his faction on fear and control, while Rebel offered the hope of escape. Sad face's gang was about survival at any cost, and Alex himself seemed to drift somewhere between them, a floating piece on a board full of locked-down pawns.
But where did Jamie fit? The alliances, however tenuous, seemed like traps in disguise. He had to wonder: was there any room for someone like him—someone who valued information, who preferred to work from the shadows?
He was silent for a moment, piecing together his own strategy. He couldn't join a faction, not yet. He'd be safer watching and waiting, observing each group for weaknesses. That was his edge: the ability to wait and calculate, to learn how each piece moved before he made his first play.
"Well, thanks for the rundown," Jamie said finally, giving Alex a measured look. "But I think I'll keep my options open, just like you."
Alex chuckled, though there was a sharpness to it. "Smart. You might just make it here after all."
Jamie shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. "I'll try. But one more thing—if Keys' power is all about control, how does Rebel's faction keep from getting crushed?"
Alex's smile was slow, thoughtful. "Rebel's not an idiot. He's slippery. The thing about trying to hold someone down is, they eventually learn how to slip right through your fingers. Rebel knows how to work the prison's blind spots, and he's careful about who he lets in."
"Sounds like you respect him," Jamie said, watching Alex's reaction carefully.
Alex laughed, crossing his arms. "I wouldn't say respect, exactly. Let's just call it mutual understanding. Rebel knows how to stay under the radar. He's more of a rumor than a real threat to Keys… at least for now."
Jamie nodded, storing that away. Rebel was selective, Sad face was transactional, and Keys was totalitarian. If he played it right, he could use that dynamic to his advantage, slipping between each faction without fully committing to any.
He scanned the square once more, mentally mapping out each corner, each group of prisoners and their territories. Information was power here, and Jamie intended to collect every piece of it he could get.
Finally, he straightened, nodding toward the far edge of the square. "Let's go. I want to see more."
Alex shot him an appraising look, as though sizing him up anew, but he simply shrugged and gestured for Jamie to follow. "Suit yourself. Just don't say I didn't warn you."
As they walked through the square, Jamie kept his head low but his senses sharp. Inmates milled around in their groups, whispering, trading, watching. Every interaction had a layer of caution beneath it, like everyone was a piece on a game board, moving only as far as they dared without upsetting the balance. He made a mental note of each face, each faction, and every line of tension that stretched between them.
Thank you for clarifying! Here's the revised ending for Chapter 6, introducing Jamie's first encounter with an apparition, aligning with your guidance:
---
They reached the far side of the square, near a series of shadowed alcoves where smaller, shabbier groups loitered. Alex leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he nodded toward the alcove.
"Keep an eye on those guys," he said, his voice low. "They're with Rebel. Don't let the small numbers fool you. They know how to disappear when they need to. They're experts in staying overlooked."
Jamie peered at the group. They were a ragtag bunch, thinner and less physically intimidating than the other factions, but there was a steely resolve in their eyes, a quiet defiance that made them seem more than just another gang of inmates. He could see why they followed Rebel; they were the kind of people who had little left to lose but everything to gain.
"They don't seem afraid of Keys," Jamie observed, his tone neutral.
"They're not afraid," Alex replied, "but they're careful. Rebel and his followers don't poke the bear unless they have to."
Jamie nodded. Each piece of information painted a clearer picture in his mind. It was as if he were building a mental map of the prison, one that showed not just walls and cells but alliances and power flows. He knew that, to survive here, he needed to see this place as more than a prison. It was a game board, and he'd already started learning how the pieces moved.
As he turned to Alex, he let a small smile slip. "Thanks for the tour guide."
Alex snorted. "Don't get too comfortable. The more you know, the more dangerous you become. Just remember—if you're planning on sticking around, play it smart."
Jamie gave him a sidelong glance, a spark of confidence flickering in his gaze. "That's the only way I know."
Just then, the air shifted, a faint hum pressing against Jamie's ears as if the atmosphere itself had thickened. The square, once filled with murmurs and shifting bodies, seemed to still. Even the faint shuffling sounds of Rebel's group stopped, replaced by a dead, expectant silence.
The light dimmed unnaturally, as if an invisible fog had seeped in, pulling everything deeper into shadow.
Jamie's heart raced. Something was here.
He felt his body tense instinctively as he scanned the area, searching for movement. And then, at the edge of his vision, he saw it: a twisted, towering figure lurking in the alcove's darkness. It wore the tattered remains of a jester's costume, stained and shredded, its head tilted at an unnatural angle. And on its face was a smile—an eerie, grotesque grin stretched impossibly wide, its hollow, shifting eyes boring into him with an unnatural malice.
A message flickered into his mind like a warning chime:
WARNING: MALEVOLENT APPARITION DETECTED. "EBONSHADE"
Jamie's pulse hammered as his mind raced. The figure seemed to flicker, almost blending with the darkness as it stepped forward, its long limbs stretching and snapping into place with unsettling grace. It was as if reality itself were bending around it.
Get it together, Jamie.
He knew he had seconds. Already, the apparition's oppressive aura was beginning to press in on him, the air thick with an overwhelming cold that clawed at his mind. His instinct was to run, but something told him that if he turned his back, it would be over before he took a single step.
His mind flashed to the personas, and a new set of options materialized before him, all under the extra toggle. Looking at the thing before he didn't think it needed a villain to defeat it, but maybe an extra could do the job.
He didn't know enough about these cards by now but he could guess enough to recognize that each bore a different archetype. One of them might just counter this monstrosity.
He focused on one of the cards that glowed faintly in his mind. Its image was starkly different from the twisted apparition in front of him—strong, composed, a figure in light armor with a resolute expression and the title
"Seeker of Clarity"
C tier
In my hollowed mind I remember I am against greatness emblazoned below. It seemed suited for resisting mental influence.
Perfect. Jamie selected it, feeling a surge of strength as he activated the persona, aligning himself with its calm, controlled aura.
But the moment he did, the apparition's hollow grin widened, as if it sensed his intentions. The shadows around it writhed like living things, and a sickeningly cold laughter filled his ears, sinking deep into his mind.
The system chimed in his head again:
Warning: Out of Character Detected. Adjust Actions to Match Persona.
Jamie ground his teeth. The aura of the Seeker of Clarity was supposed to be one of rational calm, but staying in character while the creature moved closer, filling his senses with that horrific laughter, was almost impossible. Every nerve in his body screamed to run, to attack, to do anything except stand calmly and face it.
The apparition stepped closer, its grin widening, and Jamie's focus wavered as his own fear spiked. Another system warning flared in his mind, a brutal reminder.
Second Warning: Out of Character Detected. Further OOC Actions Will Result in Ejection from Persona.
Jamie fought to steady himself, forcing his breathing to slow, but the creature was already leaning in, stretching a twisted hand toward him. Its grin opened wider, and his vision blurred as the air grew suffocatingly cold. Jamie's fear began to spike, and for an instant, he slipped out of character again, his desperation rising.
Then, without warning, the persona shattered in his mind—a visceral crack, like glass splintering. The Seeker of Clarity was gone, consumed by his failure to stay in character, his panic erasing every shred of calm and control. He stumbled back, disoriented, as the apparition's hollow eyes met his directly. Its smile widened impossibly, and the last thing he saw was its gaping maw descending on him.
The world went black.
A chime echoed in his mind, a flat and pitiless tone:
Mission Failed. Card Burned. Persona Deactivated.
---
When he opened his eyes again, he was somewhere else.
He was lying on the ground, his vision spinning, the air thick with the stench of copper. He blinked hard, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him as he took in the scene around him.
It was his own bedroom—only it was smeared with blood. A dark, glistening stain stretched across the floor, reaching nearly to his hand. For a moment, his mind went blank as he took it in, the coppery smell filling his lungs.
In the far corner of the room, he could see the outline of a crumpled figure lying unnaturally still.
The shock jolted him back to full awareness. Heart racing, he scrambled to his feet, fighting back the bile rising in his throat. His mind spun, struggling to make sense of where he was and what he was seeing.
But no explanation came.
This was his reality, this wasn't a simulation, and now, he was staring down the aftermath of something horrific.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder