Epilogue: A Visit to Hell

April 18, 2101. Hell Island.

Within the island lay Tidal Prison, where the Empire held the most violent and dangerous criminals on the planet.

The island surfaced only once every nine days, and it was once again time to take on supplies and receive prisoners.

Prisoners at danger level two or below were generally brought over in groups aboard HL transport ships; those at danger levels three and four were escorted aboard armored shuttle vessels under the command of high-ranking officers.

Today, however, HL's Asian headquarters had dispatched a special squadron of small cruisers from the Dragon Commandery to escort a prisoner. Six ships had been sent out just to transport a single captive.

Five escort ships kept pace around the main ship, but their primary task was not to protect it. If anything went wrong, their orders were to act first and report afterward: sink the main ship before worrying about anything else.

Fortunately, the voyage passed without incident, and the ship docked safely at noon.

Everyone transporting supplies and other prisoners had been ordered to remain at sea for the time being. One side of the island was under heavy guard. The prison guards and the two hundred elite troops HL had sent ahead had already been standing at attention there for three hours.

A ramp wide enough for vehicles was lowered from the main ship, and a military armored vehicle drove down it. Once it had reached Hell Island and come to a complete stop, several hundred rifles were trained on its rear.

The two men in the driver's and front passenger's seats jumped out and jogged to the rear with regulation military precision. Each took a key from his pocket. They inserted the keys into separate locks and turned them simultaneously, opening the rear doors.

The two men then raised their guns and stepped back several paces. Four escorts armed to the teeth filed out of the armored vehicle's rear compartment. Two more soldiers remained inside, each holding one of the prisoner's arms, and led him out.

The prisoner wore the sort of straitjacket used only in psychiatric hospitals, its sleeves joined behind his back. Where an ordinary straitjacket used leather straps to restrain several joints, his used leatherlike straps made from a special pure alloy treated to make it flexible. Their toughness and strength were at the very limits of any material on the planet. Unless human pores one day started firing laser beams, the chances of breaking out of this jacket through human strength were essentially zero.

An iron hood enclosed the prisoner's entire head, leaving only a mesh opening in front of his mouth for breathing. He certainly could not see anything, and his hearing and sense of smell were probably impaired as well. Even so, his ankles were also bound in a pair of pure-alloy shackles.

Warden Jefferson had never seen anything on this scale since taking office. It was a first in Tidal Prison's entire history, too. He had come in person to oversee the handover, and once again, the HL agent delivering the prisoner was Tea Immortal.

“Your Highness…” Jefferson stepped forward respectfully.

Tea Immortal showed little emotion. There was neither triumph nor tension on his face as he gave his instructions in his usual tone. “Confine him just as you would any other danger level four prisoner. No special treatment is necessary.”

“Everything will be done in accordance with your instructions and the Empire's arrangements,” Jefferson replied. In truth, what he wanted most at that moment was to hurry up and throw this prisoner called Blood Owl into a pure-alloy cell, then flush the key down the toilet.

Unfortunately, Tea Immortal's next words immediately put an end to that idea. “Warden, a great many high-ranking figures may trouble you over this prisoner in the future. You would do well to arrange meetings between him and the parties concerned when that happens.”

Tea Immortal paid no attention to Jefferson's reaction. He waved for the soldiers to move aside, then walked up to Blood Owl and lowered his voice. “I know what you're trying to do, but I advise you to give up that fantasy while you still can. The only way a prisoner leaves Hell Island is with his bones ground to dust and his ashes scattered, his corpse sunk to the bottom of the sea.”

Blood Owl said nothing, but through the iron hood's sole opening, they could see his mouth stretched into a sinister grin.