Crowned by Code - Chapter 1: The Announcement ~ (6/9) The Convict

In the cold confines of his cell, Darius Kael sat cross-legged on the narrow cot. The air carried a faint metallic tang, a constant reminder of the prison’s oppressive environment. The announcement had not yet reached him directly, but he sensed the shift. The guards stationed nearby spoke in hushed tones, their glances laden with unease, darting toward him as if he were a puzzle they couldn’t solve.

Darius stretched his arms above his head, feeling the tightness in his shoulders. He was no stranger to discomfort. Years in confinement had taught him to embrace it, to wield it as a weapon of resilience. His gaze shifted to the flickering fluorescent light overhead, its rhythmic hum punctuating the silence.

“Hey,” Darius called out, his voice carrying the casual confidence of someone who knew he held a secret. “What’s got you all spooked? Did the vending machine run out of coffee again?”

One of the guards—a younger man with a nervous disposition—shifted uncomfortably. His fingers tightened around the baton at his side, an unconscious gesture of anxiety. “It’s none of your business, Kael.”

Darius smirked, leaning back against the cold wall. “You’re right. It’s not my business. But if it’s about me, you might as well spill. I’m not going anywhere, after all—just a convict stuck in the middle of it.”

The senior guard, a burly man with a grizzled beard, shot his colleague a warning look. “Shut it, rookie.” His voice was gravelly, authoritative, yet there was a hint of something else in his tone—uncertainty.

The younger guard hesitated but said nothing further. Darius studied them both with practiced ease. Years of deception and manipulation had sharpened his ability to read people, to dissect their fears and motivations. These two were no different. Something had them rattled, and it wasn’t just the usual prison routine.

Darius leaned forward, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me guess. There’s a new policy. Something about reducing our exercise time? Or maybe the cafeteria finally banned mystery meat. Come on, throw me a bone.”

The senior guard ignored him, but the younger one’s expression flickered with unease. Darius caught it instantly. Whatever was happening, it was big. Bigger than him, even. And it was only a matter of time before the pieces fell into place.

The hours dragged on, each second a slow tick in the monotony of prison life. Darius spent the time pacing his cell, his thoughts racing. He wasn’t a man prone to paranoia, but the atmosphere was unmistakable. Change was coming. He could feel it in the way the guards avoided eye contact, in the subtle shift of their patrol patterns.

The sound of distant shouting broke the silence. Darius froze, his ears straining to catch the words. The shouts were muffled, indistinct, but there was no mistaking the tension. Something was happening beyond the steel walls of his confinement.

Minutes later, the faint echo of hurried footsteps reached his ears. He turned toward the cell door just as it swung open. Two guards entered, their expressions a mix of apprehension and determination. One carried a set of restraints, while the other held a data pad.