There was not a glimmer of hope shining in the dark, cramped cell you found yourself in. Despite being a faithful citizen of Dema, disobeying the vialism had landed you in the tight clutches of the bishops, and that had earned them a sentence that would last for God knows how long. Deep down, you knew that the reason couldn't even be that, to tell the truth. You had kept in touch with the Banditos, one of the crucial rules that was strictly followed in a city as gray and lifeless as that one. The Bishops believed that they were able to spread profane lies, to turn everyone into rebels with just a click of their fingers, but for you, it was never more than a myth. You knew it from the secret books collected in the towers and the few true whispers that escaped from the mouths of other citizens of Dema who had also seen and known them, faithfully believing that they were like light and life to be guided through the dark corridors of Dema's halls and alleys. But where was that light at a time like that? It was as if your screams fell on deaf ears of the Banditos, especially their leader, Clancy.