Thread:Crowsoul50/@comment-33229352-20190909034609/@comment-33229352-20191005060612

Orphos emerged from the depths of the tent, flanked by a group covered in thick black and orange cloaks. Their hoods were pulled far over their faces, obscuring their features. Orphos wore a similar cloak, but he kept his hood down. As the group moved speedily towards the arena, he pulled at the collar, apparently uncomfortable with it.

From the far end of the hall where no one had yet to enter, there was a familiar jangle of keys and the sound of a door being unlocked. It swung open, suddenly flooding the hallway with light and sound. Guards began to pour in. The keys were tossed from person to person as they unlocked individual cells. They either watched the inhabitants walk out, or forcibly removed them if they refused. Barely any did, and for most it was only for a few seconds. They were methodical and efficient— there was obviously a system in place as they led them out of the hallway, slowly working their way down.

Milo joined Galaxian at the door, craning his neck to size up the other combatants. He couldn’t sit still. He was abuzz with nervous energy, evident by his tapping on the bars and bouncing of his feet.