Prince of Hell.
They woke up to the smell of meat.
Not the usual synthetic paste.
Not the grey slabs of whatever used to be food.
No.
Real. Fucking. Meat.
Sizzling.
Spiced.
Dripping fat onto charred iron.
A feast.
Laid out like an apology.
Or a trap.
The guards didn’t scream.
Didn’t shove.
They served.
Dinner tables. Real ones.
And for once—
Nobody died.
The next day?
No screaming.
Just space.
The prisoners were... free.
Not free to leave.
Just free within.
No drills. No routines. No rules.
No one knew what was allowed—
but no one was stopping them.
Some played cards.
Some sat in silence.
Some walked the courtyard just because they could.
Grim walked.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Not toward anything.
Just away.
From what, he couldn’t say.
The corpses were gone. The blood was gone. The screaming had faded.
But Sael’s voice still rang in his skull, lodged like shrapnel.
“I guess you aren’t really the nation slayer.”
He wasn’t sure what made him angrier—
the words,
or the fact that some part of him agreed.
Footsteps behind him.
Soft. Rhythmic. Intentional.
He didn’t turn.
“You following me for fun, or just to ruin my silence?” Grim muttered.
“Oh—uh—just law stuff,” Mika said from behind, ever-awkward. “Protecting others from you. You know how it is.”
Grim snorted. “Right. Can’t have me tearing out any more throats.”
Silence again.
For a second.
Then:
“…wanna play catch?”
Grim stopped walking.
Turned slowly.
Stared at Mika like he’d grown a second head, then calmly replied:
“Fuck off.”
Mika smiled.
Sheepish. Not offended. Of course not. He never was.
“I just thought maybe you liked pets. Last time I tried hamsters, remember?”
“You tried talking me down with hamsters. I had a death toll in triple digits and you brought up rodents.”
“They’re comforting,” Mika mumbled. “Soft. Dumb. Happy.”
Grim stared at him.
“You’re an idiot.”
“I know,” Mika said.
And smiled again.
Like it was enough.
They walked.
Silence returned.
Not peace. Just absence.
A kind of non-sound that matched the hollow in Grim’s chest.
He wasn’t angry anymore.
Not truly.
He was just... here.
And Sael wasn’t.
Twenty dead.
And still it didn’t feel like enough.
Not because he wanted more blood.
But because something still pulsed under the surface.
Loud.
Unfinished.
“Trenval.”
Mika looked up. “Yeah?”
Grim didn’t turn around.
Just kept walking.
“I have something to do.”
That was all.
But Mika didn’t question it.
Didn’t press.
Just followed.
Because that was the job.
Protect others from Grim.
Even if Grim wasn’t sure what needed protecting anymore.
End of Chapter.