The cold metal of the cell bars pressed into the silence around Tyler Galpin. His jaw clenched, fists tight. The clang of the heavy door echoed like a verdict.

He wasn’t a prisoner - not really. But now, trapped behind this iron cage, the weight of his choices settled like dust.

Through the narrow window, moonlight cut jagged shapes across the concrete floor. Outside, footsteps approached. Guards. Watching. Waiting.

Tyler’s eyes flicked to the small slit in the door where voices whispered.

He smirked, blood still pounding in his ears.

They thought locking him up would stop the storm.

But storms don’t stay caged.