“Fate itself gave us a chance, and that means...” Namkhai took a fighting stance, a faint clear aura flickering around his fist. “..we have to act.”

  With those words, he punched the air. The thick metal door bent hard, the wall around it cracked, and the door flew off to the side, taking a big chunk of the wall with it. In place of the massive barrier, a huge hole remained.

  “What was that? Did you bring a bomb with you?” his neighbor blurted out.

  “A bomb?” Namkhai replied, surprised. “I just broke it with my fists, like you told me.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “You’ll see for yourself. I’ll open your cell too. Just step away from the door,” Namkhai said, taking his stance again.

  “N-no, wait! Stop! I don’t want--!”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine..... I hope,” the monk tried to calm him, but before he could finish, a guard rushed into the hallway and yelled:

  “What the hell?! Another explosion?” He looked around quickly and saw the smashed door and Namkhai standing right in the middle of it. “How did you get out of your cell?!”

  “I just hit harder this time.”

  “Oh, so you’re a funny guy, huh?” The guard’s face went pale, and one thought flashed through his mind:

  Holy shit, all the guards are fighting at the explosion site… I’m the only one here…

  While the guard was lost in thought, Namkhai noticed an unusual device on the punishment cell door. There was no normal lock — instead, a small screen was built into it.

  “Oh! I know this. Just like last time — I need a card.” He walked up, ran his fingers across the surface, and asked the guard:

  “Hey, you got the card that opens the doors? I don’t wanna waste energy. Let’s just solve this peacefully.”

  “What? On the ground, now!” the guard shouted, backing away nervously.

  “Why so tense…” Namkhai muttered, pressing his fingers against the panel. “Just give it to me and I won’t touch you.”

  The screen suddenly blinked red and showed a short message.

  >>> Wrong fingerprint

  “What? So that’s how it is. You can just open it with a finger. Damn, that’s some tech.”

  The guard understood he couldn’t face Namkhai alone and began slowly stepping back, trying to block the way to the exit.

  Namkhai turned his head toward him and, with a mocking grin, said:

  “Hey you. Your fingerprints should work to open this door.”

  The guard went pale, fear flashing in his eyes.

  “No, only special wardens can open it.”

  “Then why’d you start answering my questions right away?” Namkhai smirked. “Hey, neighbor, you think he can open your door too?”

  “I don’t need your help, Namkhai. Go on your own.”

  “What’s wrong with you? You were the one who said this was a perfect chance to escape.”

  “Calm down, inmate. If you attack the prison guards, they’ll lock you up here for a long time.”

  “Then open this door and I won’t touch you,” Namkhai replied coldly.

  The guard’s eyes ran over his huge figure. He nervously reached for a heavy device on his belt and exhaled:

  “Heh… if you don’t want to obey, then we’ll talk a different way.”

  He raised the gun and clicked off the safety, aiming right at Namkhai.

  “A gun?”

  “This isn’t just a gun. It’s a powerful shocker. I set it to maximum. A hit like this will stop your heart and you’ll die like a dog. So you better obey and get on the floor.”

  “I told you--” Namkhai began, but didn’t finish.

  The guard pulled the trigger. Two magnetic balls shot out and smacked into the monk’s chest. Electricity ripped through his body, his muscles locked up, the air burst out of his lungs, and Namkhai jerked from the shock.

  The guard, satisfied with the result, already expected him to fall — but instead, the monk dashed forward instantly. In one leap he was next to him and slammed his palm into the attacker’s face with all his strength. The hit was precise and deadly. The guard choked, collapsed and fell unconscious to the floor.

  Namkhai exhaled, bent over the body, grabbed the guard by the wrist and dragged him across the floor toward the cell door.

  “Hey, neighbor, I got the key! Get ready, we’re getting out of this dump.”

  “Don’t open the door, Namkhai!” came the tense voice from the cell.

  Dragging the lifeless body behind him and ignoring the protests, Namkhai said:

  “Stop whining already. I knocked this guy out for you,” he lifted the guard by the wrist, the body still dangling behind him, “and now you want to stay?”

  “You’re wasting your time,” the neighbor rasped. “I’m not going with you anyway.”

  “Don’t make this harder, bro!” Namkhai exhaled, and without waiting for an answer, pressed the guard’s hand to the screen.

  The panel beeped, the lock clicked, and the door quietly opened.

  Behind it was dim light. A man sat on the bed, chained to it. No legs. No left arm. His face was covered in burns and deep scars, and on his forehead were marks, as if something once grew there but had been roughly cut off.

  He lifted his head and, meeting Namkhai’s eyes, quietly said:

  “I told you to go without me.”

  “I… I thought.” Namkhai couldn’t find the words at first.

  “You thought I’d be in better shape?” the man gave a weak smile. “And I, to be honest, thought you’d be prettier.”

  “Heh, ‘I’m not going with you’…” Namkhai mocked him. “I get it now. Funny guy.” He stepped closer. “Well, no choice, I wil carry you”

  But the neighbor raised his only arm to block the way. The chain on his wrist clinked.

  “Don’t. That’s not the point.”

  “Then what is?”

  “It’s my business. I don’t owe you any explanation. Just leave.”

  Namkhai stared at him and took another step.

  “What are you doing, kid?”

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  “What do you think?” Namkhai replied. “If you don’t want to talk, I’ll pull you out by force.”

  With one strong yank, he tore the chain from the wall.

  “Don’t touch me,” the man said, pulling back. “Leave me. Why do you even need me? You have your own goals, and I’ll only slow you down.”

  “I don’t care!” Namkhai snapped, grabbing him by the shoulders with a grin. “I got used to you already.”

  “Let me go!” he shouted, pushing the monk away with his one arm. “How many times do I have to say it?!”

  “And how many times do I have to tell you I’m not leaving you behind?!” Namkhai answered, holding him tighter.

  In response, the neighbor suddenly struck the monk in the eye with his elbow. Namkhai staggered back, grabbing his eye, and the man collapsed to the floor of the cell with a heavy groan.

  “Ah! You idiot! Why the hell did you do that?!” Namkhai roared, rubbing his eye.

  “It’s the only way to get through your thick skull,” the neighbor rasped from the floor. “I’ve told you a million times to leave me.”

  “You’re annoying as hell!” Namkhai threw his hands up. “Fck, you bastard, at least tell me why you want to stay here so badly! What did you do that makes prison feel safer than freedom? Did someone out there do this to you? They’re hunting you?”

  The neighbor lifted his eyes. For a moment, there was something tired, but honest in them.

  “Namkhai…..”

  The monk lowered his head, listening.

  “You’re a good person. Sorry for calling you an idiot…. and for not believing you.”

  “Doesn’t matter anymore. So? Will you explain or not?”

  “I have my reasons,” the neighbor said quietly, staring at the ceiling. “Reasons you won’t understand. No one would. Only me.”

  Namkhai stayed silent for a moment, then dropped down beside him and sat near the man on the floor.

  “What are you sitting for?” the neighbor asked, surprised, turning his head. “Go! While you still can!”

  “Well… now it’s your turn to tell me how you ended up here,” Namkhai said calmly, folding his arms.

  “You serious? This is not the time for heart-to-heart talk! You need to run while the whole guard is busy with the chaos.”

  “Don’t care.”

  “What? I’m still not telling you anything.”

  “Then I guess we’re cellmates,” Namkhai shrugged and smirked.

  The neighbor stared at him. For a few seconds he just lay there in silence, like he couldn’t believe someone would actually stay on purpose. His eyes held a strange mix of confusion and respect.

  “Fine,” he finally said. “I’ll tell you. But after that you leave. And you leave me here. Got it?”

  “After your story I’ll leave? Sure,” Namkhai smirked. “But as for ‘leaving you’… we’ll see.”

  The neighbor exhaled heavily, as if pushing words out of himself.

  “I… I was… no, I had… actually… damn… I don’t even know where to start, Namkhai,” he said with tired bitterness.

  “What’s wrong?” the monk asked gently. “Hard to remember?”

  “Hard to talk about. I remember it every day.”

  Namkhai leaned closer.

  “Then start with this,” he said, pointing at the man’s forehead, where the skin was torn and strange marks still showed. “Sorry to bring it up, but honestly, that’s the first thing I noticed when I saw you.”

  The neighbor gave him a confused look, touched the warped scars with his fingers, and let out a short, dry laugh.

  “Hah, it bothers you that much?” he asked, sounding a little more alive, as if the pain had briefly loosened its grip.

  “Of course. I could’ve asked why you’re here, or why half your body is gone, but damn, those marks… I felt like they used to be something important. But if you don’t want to answer, don’t. We agreed you’d just tell me about your time here.”

  “No, you know what. It’s fine, actually, this is a good place to start.”

  Namkhai settled in, ready to listen.

  The neighbor ran his fingers across the scar on his forehead and said:

  “There used to be a horn here.”

  “A horn?” Namkhai repeated, surprised.

  “Yes,” the neighbor nodded. “According to my ancestors, who were unlucky enough to end up in this world, ours was completely different. Green everywhere, no metal, no machines… and no enemies. We lived peacefully, in harmony with each other. Everyone had their own horn: different shape, different color. No two were alike. Like your fingerprints.”

  He glanced at Namkhai, who looked down at his palm.

  “Like a fingerprint…”

  “You said you felt they were important to me and you were right. Our horns aren’t just decoration. They show what’s strongest inside you. For some it’s determination. For others - love, loyalty… or faith.”

  “And what did yours mean?” Namkhai asked quietly.

  The neighbor gave a faint smile.

  “Mine meant fortitude.” He brushed the scar again. “It’s gone now… but the fortitude stayed.”

  “So you didn’t lose it by choice?” Namkhai asked.

  “Of course not. You think I was born like this? No arm, no legs, and without the one thing that connected me to my home?” the neighbor said.

  “Then why do you look like this? Is that why you’re here? Did you fight someone?”

  “Before I got to this prison, I was whole. My arm, my legs, my horn — everything was there. But… inside I was dead.”

  “What do you mean? Are you saying the guards did all this to you?!” Namkhai shot to his feet, unable to believe it.

  The neighbor looked at him in surprise.

  “That shocks you?”

  “Of course it does!” Namkhai threw up his hands. “You think that’s normal?! The people who are supposed to protect others doing this to a living being? That’s just-”

  “I told you - I’m an outsider. Not from your world.”

  “So what?!” Namkhai cut him off, stepping closer. “Because of a horn on your head they could just cut it off and cut off your legs and arm too?! What did you do to deserve this?!”

  The neighbor lifted his eyes toward Namkhai’s huge figure.

  “What?” Namkhai frowned. “Hey, don’t tell me they torture you so you’ll stay silent.”

  “The opposite,” the neighbor said. “They keep me here so I’ll talk.”

  Namkhai stepped even closer, his eyes narrowing.

  “You’re hiding something? A secret? What do they want from you?”

  “A confession,” the neighbor said shortly.

  “A confession?” Namkhai repeated. “What kind of confession?”

  “A confession for something I didn’t do.. that’s why I’m here.”

  “Oh, just stop dragging it out,” Namkhai exhaled, sitting down beside him. “You’ve already said enough, no point staying quiet now.”

  The neighbor closed his eyes for a second, as if gathering courage. Then he breathed out:

  “I… witnessed a murder. A brutal one. Like an idiot, I reported it to the police right away. I knew they wouldn’t care… but back then I didn’t think, I hoped they’d help her.”

  “Her?”

  The neighbor continued without answering directly:

  “I thought it wasn’t too late, that they’d make it in time to save her… and catch that bastard by the trail. But… he turned out to be a big shot in the government. A lover of ‘exotic fun’. He was looking for someone to play with. Of course a man like that can’t be a criminal. Scandal, reputation, connections… So they did the opposite. They arrested me the same day.”

  “And they torture you so you’ll confess like you did it?”

  “You’re getting it…”

  Namkhai’s eyes darkened. He stayed silent for a few seconds before speaking:

  “If that scumbag is so powerful, why do they need your confession? Why not just close the case?”

  “Probably because of the ‘Reverentia’ union.”

  “Union?” What’s that?”

  “It’s a union. An organization for people like us - beings from other worlds. They fight for our rights, against discrimination. They keep an eye on the government so they don’t abuse their power. Because of them, the government needs my confession. Otherwise the public will start digging.”

  “Oh come on! I’ll get you out of here right now, find your people from that organization and you’ll tell them everything. They don’t even need to check - they’ll understand everything the moment they see you. You’ll be under their protection… so come on.”

  The neighbor let out a bitter smile.

  “Everyone already knows what they’re doing, Namkhai. How the government destroys us, crushes us, hates us… all because of that catastrophe we didn’t even cause we had no control back then! Don’t think Reverentia is a great force. They yell loudly, but if things get truly dangerous, the government will just crush them. It’s useful for them that the union exists it keeps people distracted.”

  “Try anyway,” Namkhai said. “Let this be your step in the fight. Maybe others will rise up because of your story.”

  The neighbor stared at the ceiling in silence.

  “If I escape, it’ll be seen as admitting guilt. Everyone will think I’m the killer.”

  “So what?” Namkhai frowned. “You can hide. Later you might be able to appeal.”

  “Better to die,” the neighbor said sharply, turning his head toward him. “I won’t take the blame for the horrible things that bastard did.”

  Namkhai froze. He didn’t know what to say. He slowly turned his back to the neighbor and ran his hands over his face, as if trying to wipe away the anger.

  “That’s it. I told you my story,” the neighbor said. “Now go. You’ve already wasted enough time.”

  Namkhai felt like he was being torn apart from the inside. He couldn’t understand how someone who had almost nothing left could cling so stubbornly to… emptiness. An idea that wouldn’t change anything. He held his head in his hands, trying to find any words, and suddenly something unpleasant flashed in his mind, sending a chill down his skin.

  “Who was she? Family?” he asked, still facing away.

  The neighbor understood right away.

  “Go. What will it change?”

  “So you….” Namkhai turned sharply, then fell silent.

  His neighbor pushed himself up from the floor with his one remaining arm. Without legs, with a ruined body, he slowly bent forward and bowed so low his forehead touched the cold stone.

  “Namkhai… thank you,” he said with a shaking voice. “We barely know each other, and yet you still want to help… even stay here with me… But you don’t understand my actions. And you don’t have to. The important thing is that I know why I’m doing this. This is my fight. Please… go.”

  Namkhai roared, clenching his fists:

  “So they did THIS to someone you loved, then mutilated you, and now they want you to confess that you killed her and you just decided to leave it all as it is?!”

  The neighbor stayed silent.

  “Answer me! You said your horn meant endurance? That’s bullshit! You’re just an idiot! What fight?! For what?!”

  The neighbor didn’t lift his head.

  “For honor… and for her memory,” he whispered.

  Namkhai punched the wall. The stone cracked, leaving a deep dent. But the neighbor didn’t even flinch.

  “Honor? There’s no honor here.” Namkhai growled. “If I knew you were this weak, I would’ve left you from the start.”

  He stood there, looking at the crippled man still bowed in an impossible position.

  “A pointless fight for nothing,” he said with heavy contempt and turned away.

  When he reached the exit of the punishment cell, Namkhai stopped. He cast a short glance over his shoulder and said quietly:

  “Yeah… better to die.”

  He walked out, leaving the neighbor in the same position, bowed to the floor. Never even learning his name.