Vox walked through the long-emptied halls of the prison, soles of his shoes clicking along the tile. His subjects had all they needed, so such a high security prison was for one person, and one person only. His old partner. That traitor. That beautiful, stupid, poor little traitor. He scanned his handprint, then watched with a slow-spreading grin as the door to the cell slid open, revealing the former Breacher King. "Why hello, darling," he cooed. "Im surprised that drug didnt kill you."