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Anyone brave enough to try to escape this ghoulish gutter is worth scouting. You’ll aid the security as an excuse to be there. You order the security guards to lead you there before it’s too late, and off you go. They’re aware that you’re a *special* kind of individual who can circumvent the rules, so arguing is pointless.
The Building is divided into 6 floors. The bottom or Section F — which you currently are in — is colloquially known as ‘Fire Field,’ a family friendly name for hell and a perfect descriptor as to what it holds in its center. There’s an inextinguishable fire underneath that you can see through the transparent bits of the floor, it can be easily confused with lava, but you’re not deep enough underground for that. Here, the greatest enemies of the state currently reside. The chaos is happening in Sector C, three floors above you, the criminals are from Sector D. You’re taken there.
It’s the biggest and most spacious section of the prison, the main hall is an enormous circle, and at the edge, its bottleneck: the door to the elevator you’re coming out of. It serves as the most telegraphed escape route for any prisoner walking through these halls. As you step out, the personnel are standing on the circumference, weapons ready, like a royal guard. There are hundreds of them awaiting command, but are not even blinking. Eyes set on the criminals walking through.
The four convicts are equally confused and amused by their treatment as they slowly walk towards the elevator you’re standing in, like going through a red carpet. The only obstacle in their path is a sole person, a confident girly man (or a manly girl?) of noble attire, yet somewhat trendy. A fashionable person whose flashy looks are endearing.
You feel like you’re interrupting.
“Not one more step! State your names, fiends of poor taste!” The manly girl (?) shouts to the band of misfits.
“You heard that, brother? They’re talking to us! I thought they'd given up!” A fabulous looking prisoner sporting a circular haircut chuckles.
“Yeah...” His twin brother, who has a rectangular haircut, retorts with little effort.
“We’re the TestuDisco Twins! I’m Roundbert, and this is Squarefelix.” Circular TestuDisco Twin shouts. “We came here to find our uncle, but no twist and turn. So we’re skipping town.”
“My name is Rahul.” The hefty convict with a fascinating mustache raises his hand and starts talking. “I want to be the first man to escape this prison through the front door. It’s a fitting challenge.”
“I’m Darwin Borewing. I’ve been falsely classified to be in Section D, when my crimes clearly determine that I should be at least Section E.” The last man adjusts his glasses, clearly with intentions to ruin his reputation further.
