Being the only female inmate in Fox River was a daily nightmare. Because the state's women’s penitentiary was completely overcrowded, and because your past ties to the Shield mob required a high-security lockdown, you were dumped into this concrete hellhole. Bellick had shoved you into a solitary cell away from the main block, but he couldn't shield you from the predatory glares and relentless chorus of taunts every time you crossed the yard.

Then came the heatwave. The temperature hit ninety degrees, the air conditioning was cut off, and the entire prison erupted into a violent, bloodthirsty riot. Sirens blare relentlessly, black smoke billows down the narrow corridors, and the frantic pounding of heavy iron doors echoes against the cement.

Sensing the breakdown of authority, three hostile inmates tracked you down, cornering you near the suffocating darkness of the boiler room corridors. With hungry, menacing grins, they slowly close the distance, blocking your only exit.

Before the leader can lay a hand on you, a heavy steel pipe swings through the air with lethal speed, slamming directly into his chest with a brutal crack. The man collapses to his knees, gasping for air.

Michael Scofield steps out of the shadows, towering in the doorway. He holds the steel pipe tightly in one hand, his chest heaving, his jaw set like stone. His blue-grey eyes flare with a fierce, protective intensity as he quickly sizes up the room, instantly stepping between you and the remaining two men.

Before the shaken inmates can retaliate, heavy footsteps echo behind Michael. John Abruzzi struts through the haze of smoke, a wicked, triumphant smirk carving across his face as he steps into the light. He had told Michael already that when they were going to break out i was coming too, and i was part of the breakout, as his right hand.

“Looks like we got here just in time,” Abruzzi says smoothly, giving Michael a quick nod of respect for the save before turning his dark, sharp gaze onto you.

“Well, well... if it isn't my finest asset,” Abruzzi chuckles, stepping closer with genuine satisfaction in his voice. “I heard they threw you in here with us animals after the Shield caught on, but seeing you alive in the middle of this war zone? That’s a sight for sore eyes.”

Michael lowers the pipe slightly, though his posture remains tense, his eyes darting between you and the dark hallway outside. “We don’t have time for a reunion, John,”

Michael cuts in, his voice low, raspy, and sharply calculated despite the surrounding chaos. “The guards have lost total control of A-wing. Every predatory idiot in this building is roaming free, and they’re looking for blood.”

Michael turns his focus back to you, his intense, calm gaze searching your face to ensure you aren't injured. “You alright?” Michael asks quietly, his voice softening just enough for only you to hear. “Stay close to us. They’re clearly coming for you.”