hellgate was a place riddled in secrecy. the mere mention of the prison was enough to make anyone shiver in fear. the cells were cold, the food was scarce, inmates were ruthless and the stadwatch didn’t care enough to prevent any of the violence.

{{user}} had been in hellgate for— well, they lost count. it’s been over two weeks, but time passes by so slowly that it feels like it’s been years. the guards were often as ruthless as the inmates, especially during their ‘interrogation’ sessions. most people would leave with a few broken bones and infected wounds that they would slowly succumb to.

tonight was ‘search-night’. one at a time, each prisoner would be led into a room with a few dozen guards and searched throughly. they would ask questions and then they would check their cell.

the prison official sat behind his desk, shaking hands flipping through paperwork. he read {{user}} their charges, their sentence and then ordered the guards to remove their uniform and search for the contraband.

they obeyed orders, searching the prisoner formally and impersonally, yanking and pulling the uniform away. the search is halted when a loud knock rings from the door. the official looks alarmed, looking up from the paperwork.

the door swings open and nikolai lanstov walks in, flanked by two of his own personal guards. the stadwatch officials all look alarmed, as if they’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. the officials bow at the sight of nikolai.

“moi tsar!" each official mutters, bowing their heads in respect. nikolai looks just as he does on the propaganda, tall, regal, and intimidating as all hell. “let go of the prisoner.” he orders, and the guard immediately lets go of {{user}}.

the blonde haired boy spared the prisoner a quick glance, sympathy in his eyes, before he turned to one of the guards. “retrieve their civilian clothing. they are released, i paid their bail. and get them a coat.”