Warning: Crappy chapter. I am actually very unsatisfied with this chapter, but oh well.

Chapter Fifteen

The Prison brought back unpleasant memories.

He did not spend a lot of time in the cells, having been transferred soon after they've lost track of his brother. No doubt Gilbert had always thought that he had remained trapped in the Prison until their sudden and hasty reunion in the Labs. Gilbert had told him about how he had always tried to think of a scheme to get him out, but had always been shot down by Francis and Antonio.

This time, however, it was Gilbert in the Prison, and Ludwig had been hired by his brother's two peculiar friends to scheme him out.

"Something's wrong," Feliciano murmured the moment they stepped through the metal door. Ludwig could feel him sticking close behind him, but he momentarily disappeared as they passed through a makeshift checkpoint that hadn't been here the last time he came. It was crude, like the ones in a Chinese airport, and the guards monitoring the machines were just as careless. Ludwig handed over his I.D.—customized by Francis—and allowed himself to be patted down before passing on, all without a hitch. Feliciano's presence joined him at his side soon afterwards. He had probably skirted around the entire system, which was good, considering that he was the one with all the tools; Ludwig had only a pistol on him, and even if he could probably bring down the building with a single push if he was standing in the right spot, he could not block a barrage of bullets, and that made him feel somewhat vulnerable.

He felt a gentle brush against his hand, and then something dropped into his hand: an ear comm., one of Antonio's newest toys. It was about the size of the nail of his pinky, small enough that when Ludwig quickly stuck the device into his ear, it was completely invisible unless you peer closely into his right ear—which, now that Ludwig thought about it, was something completely in character for Gilbert to do in a whim of weirdness. Hopefully the guards in the Prison were not as special, observant, or paranoid as his brother.

"We need to get to the computers," Ludwig told Feliciano out of the corner of his mouth.

"I don't know where that is…" Feliciano sounded vaguely disappointed, and Ludwig was about to assure him that he didn't either when two guards rounded the corner and spotted him.

"Haven't seen you around here before," greeted one, a huge, bulking figure of the typical military cut. "Are you one of the reinforcements Magyar requested?"

Reinforcements? "Yes," Ludwig replied, "though if I'm honest, I don't really know what I'm doing here."

The guard shrugged. "None of us really do. Just stand guard somewhere and act like you do, that's how we do it 'round here."

His companion, a shorter, slighter man with ruffled dark hair rolled his eyes. "And that is why we needed reinforcements in the first place." He turned to Ludwig. "Let me tell you why you're here. Three prisoners have recently escaped despite our best efforts. On the other hand, we've gained a very special prisoner. Magyar is meeting with him right now."

Ludwig was momentarily stumped by the information dumped down onto him. Three escaped prisoners and one addition. "Magyar is here?"

"Of course. Didn't you hear anything I said just now?"

He could feel Feliciano pressing close to him, his phantom form tense and his muffled breaths quick and nervous.

"Who were the escaped prisoners?" Ludwig asked. "Are they of high importance?"

The shorter guard shrugged. "Two of them were dangerous criminals who wrecked havoc during their wild escape. The other was a V.I.P." He spared Ludwig a curious look. "You might have heard of him."

"Who?" Ludwig pressed.

It was the tall guard who answered, "They call him the Prussian."

There was a sharp gasp close behind him that was quickly muffled. Ludwig himself felt like he had been punched in the gut. Gilbert was gone. He had escaped from this place even before Ludwig had gotten here to save him.

He had the sudden urge to smile. Of course, that was what Gilbert would do; it sounded just like him.

"It's funny though," the shorter guard commented offhandedly, almost as if he was talking to himself. "Not soon after the three vanished, we managed to capture somebody who had managed to infiltrate the Prison. Rumor's going around that he was trying to break out the Prussian."

The taller guard snorted. "Ridiculous."

"Look where it got him," the shorter guard scoffed lightly. "In his very own V.I.P. room."

Ludwig mentally grimaced. "Good riddance."

"Either way," the guard said, "We've got to get going. Have fun."

The taller guard chortled, and the two parted. Ludwig stared after them for a moment before turning and continuing down the hall.

"The V.I.P. rooms," he murmured, almost to himself. There was a feathery touch on his arm. It was in rare moments like these when Feliciano seemed to have discarded his childish persona for a person Ludwig might have known if he had met Feliciano before the Lab.

"We'll find him," his invisible companion whispered.

Ludwig had no doubt they would. He was certainly curious who—other than himself—would want to save his brother.

Kiku watched his two friends hurry deeper into the Prison from his somewhat concealed position in the car. It made him uneasy to be so far away from them, but he was too physically weak to join them. The most he could do was watch their progress and keep a lookout.

The comm. in his ear crackled. "Did you hear that?"

The conversation just now solved practically every mystery and question Kiku had. The guards were stupid, he thought almost bitterly. Just three years ago, they were at least competent, but now… it was no wonder several prisoners managed to break out.

"That explains why I couldn't find Gilbert at first," he replied.

"Do you see Magyar?"

"Yes," Kiku confirmed. His eyes, able to see through any kind of barrier, scanned the structure of the Prison until he found an intimidating figure stalking down the halls, purpose and confidence in her every step. The bloodied knife in her hands and gleam in her eyes suggested that she had just enjoyed a rather successful torture session. "She's heading away from you guys, so it should be fine." He extracted his gaze from Magyar and returned to the structure of the Prison. "Head to the Northern section. The V.I.P. rooms are there."

Ludwig gave an imperceptible nod, Feliciano a blurred shadow that only Kiku could see, and the two began heading towards the direction he pointed them in.

Most of the V.I.P. cells were empty. In fact, only one of them was occupied.

How convenient.

"He's in V.I.P. room number 11," Kiku informed Ludwig. "You should hurry up. He looks like he's in pretty bad shape."

Kiku squinted at the occupant of the room. He was chained to a chair which—if the amount of blood staining the metal was anything to go by—was the exact chair he had been tortured in, and although he had been roughly cleaned up and bandaged, something about him did not seem to have been patched up right. There was a strange familiarity in the figure, as if Kiku had known him before Magyar had broken him, as if he had known what he looked like whole—

But he did. The realization was like a punch in the gut.

"Ludwig," he whispered into the ear-comm., "He's Emil's brother."

Lukas.

Ludwig barely knew the boy, but it didn't matter; he owed him. Mathias Køhler may have been the one to break the chains, but Lukas was the one who had a direction, a goal that had pointed towards the destruction of the Lab, and Ludwig now not only owed him his freedom, but also his reunion with Gilbert.

Life was a strange thing, Ludwig mused as he quickened his pace but tried not to appear hurried as they managed their way through the maze of the Prison with a bit of Kiku's help. Lukas had come to the Lab with the intention of freeing Emil, and had freed Ludwig in the process; Ludwig had infiltrated the Prison with the intention of saving Gilbert, but was getting ready to break out Lukas instead.

The Prison was a frustratingly massive labyrinth, which was why Ludwig felt justified for uttering a small, triumphant "Yes!" under his breath when they found V.I.P. room number 7. Each of these Very Important Prisoner cells was much bigger than the normal cells, and also much more heavily technologically guarded. Though all Ludwig could see were small panels on the wall next to a smooth yet foreboding slab of metal that served as a door, he did not doubt that each door was as thick as it was wide, and there were various gears and devices hidden underneath the initial metal plate.

V.I.P. Room 11

"It's this one," Feliciano murmured. His presence was a gentle and reassuring breeze by Ludwig's side. A white card materialized, appearing to float on thin air. "…It doesn't look like this card that I stole from the guard is going to be much help."

Indeed, there was no keyhole and nowhere to slot a card, and the panel asked for a fingerprint check, which—without the help of Francis—Ludwig would be unable to bypass.

The two paused outside Room 11, wondering what they could do now. Of course, Ludwig could always just smash through the door, but then they would need a distraction if they wanted to get out of this place alive—

A sudden alarm blared, startling Ludwig. Feliciano uttered a small shriek and probably jumped about a foot in the air. The white lights of the halls flickered off suddenly, suspending them in momentary darkness before they were replaced by red lights that flashed in rhythm to the screeching alarm.

"—Ludwig!" His ear comm. crackled. The thick Prison walls were interfering with their communication. "—intruder… Prison—hurry!"

Ludwig swore under his breath.

"Screw it," he growled as Feliciano flickered into view, brows furrowed in fear and agitation. "Let's knock this place down."

Feli's frown disappeared, replaced by a grin that was almost maniacal. This Feliciano was not somebody Ludwig knew, but it didn't matter at this moment. "I'll cover you," he said, and that was all Ludwig needed to know.

He put both hands on the door in front of him, and pushed. The structure was dense, but then there was a crunch, and it began to give way as Ludwig's fingers dug into the metal. He secured his grip, then with a violent tug, tore the entire thing out of its frame to reveal—

Another door.

Both of them groaned, somewhat despaired and exasperated by the design of the Prison.

This time, Ludwig didn't even bother being gentle. He simply thrust his hand in and through the door, and with another mighty heave that seemed almost effortless to the tall blonde, he wrenched the door out of their way, discarding it to the side of the plain cell walls bathed in dark red light. The alarm continued to blare, but the shouts were far away. An intruder, if Ludwig was to take a guess. Somebody who, unlike Ludwig and Feliciano, decided to kick down the front door instead of slink past it. It was the perfect distraction, one they had to take as much advantage of as they could.

Feliciano hurried to Lukas's side, frantically checking his pulse and calling his name. Ludwig arrived beside the boy just as he stirred, a raspy groan scraping from his throat as he clawed back into consciousness. Ludwig took hold of his chains and easily pried the cuffs apart. With the help of Feliciano, the two eased Lukas into Ludwig's arms, just as he gave a sudden jerk and a soft cry, almost making Ludwig drop him.

His eyes flew open, wide yet unseeing, and he opened his mouth as if about to scream, but no sound came out other than a harsh expel of air.

"Shh," Feliciano urged him, brushing a few strands of his pale golden hair aside.

"—my back—," The sound that passed Lukas's cracked lips could barely be considered words, but somehow Feliciano managed to understand him.

"I know, I know it hurts," the Italian comforted him with the warm honey of his voice. As usual, there was a melodic ring to the way Feliciano spoke, as if he was always on the edge of bursting into a song; but this time it was mournful, like the sound of falling tears and shattered lives. "I know it hurts, but it's going to be okay. We're here, we've got you…"

It worked, to some degree. Ludwig could crush pillars with a single fist, but Feliciano only needed his voice to heal someone, even if it was a temporary band-aid over a gaping wound.

Lukas quieted, but his body was still tense with pain and shock, and he barely acknowledged the fact that Ludwig had him tucked close to his chest like a child; clearly he felt no safety or reassurance despite the kind gesture.

"Let's go," Feliciano told Ludwig, giving Lukas's matted hair another soothing stroke before putting his hand on Ludwig's shoulder as if to guide him and the child in his arms out of this cell and away from this Prison and vanish into a world beyond this hell.

"Ah," said an amused voice, "I thought I would find you here."

Both Ludwig and Feliciano started, but it was more defensive than frightened. Ludwig's eyes couldn't help but focus onto the despicable guard uniform, on the casual hand resting on the butt of a pistol tucked into the belt. He knew that if Feliciano had more of a wild, fighting spirit, he would probably be baring his teeth and hissing like a feral cat, but the Italian was only tense, his fingers digging painfully into Ludwig's shoulder. His golden brown eyes seemed to be smoldering, an angel bearing the wrath of the heavens.

"You," he said simply.

The guard stepped into view. He was the shorter guard from earlier, the one that had stopped to chat with Ludwig in the halls and had fed him so much useful information. There was a tight smile on his lips that conflicted with the lightness of his tone and casualness of his posture—although, now that he was under the glow of the red alarm light inside the cell instead of the flashing crimson streaks in the halls, Ludwig could see that he was tense too. His eyes flickered to the broken figure Ludwig held, and his expression strained even more.

As if sensing somebody's pity, Lukas raised his head. His dead eyes met the guard's.

"It's… not your fault." Speaking must be painful to Lukas, and exhausting too, because he turned away after those words and moved no more.

The guard's smile had completely vanished; he looked stricken instead. "I'm sorry," he said. "God, I'm so sorry."

"What are you talking about?" Feliciano demanded.

"I—," the guard seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before forcibly gathering his composure and saying, "My name is Milen Dimitrov. I—," And then he paused again, as if to swallow back everything he had decided to say to replace it with something else. "It—it doesn't matter." He shook his head, then turned back to the two infiltrators with a determined glint in his dark green eyes, enhanced by the intense red glow of their surroundings.

"Look, I'm going to help you get him out of here." He gestured at Lukas, then noticing Feliciano open his mouth, quickly cut him off, "No questions, we haven't got time. It's partly my fault he managed to get into this situation in the first place, so now I'm getting him out.

"The entrance has been blocked: as you can tell from the alarms, there is an intruder. Either way, you cannot leave from there. We'll have to find another way out."

"Ludwig," Kiku's voice suddenly crackled into his ear, interrupted by loud static, "—hurry. Something's happening—Somebody… killing—"

Ludwig glanced around them, at the sturdy metal walls and concrete structure beneath them. He grimaced, but there was something quietly wild in his expression. "Take him," he told Feliciano, letting Lukas slip carefully from his hold into Feliciano's waiting arms. Milen hurried forward to help support him, draping the limp body between them.

"What are you doing?"

Ludwig rolled his shoulders back, stretching his muscles. He lowered his weight, balanced himself on the balls of his feet, power coiling around his body like a bullet preparing to fire. A grim smile tilted his lips. "I'm finding a way out."

And like a determined titan charging towards an ancient wall, he collided with a jarring impact, but then the structure gave way under his ramming shoulder, crumbling easily under his monstrous strength, and Ludwig broke a hole through the Prison.

Milen, to his credit, gaped for just two seconds before aiding Feliciano in dragging Lukas out into the daylight.

Once freed from the oppressive walls of the Prison, Ludwig's ear comm. finally began to function smoothly. The wailing alarms sounded further despite the large hole in the wall, and Ludwig felt strangely light, as if they were already triumphant even though they still had to sneak around the Prison walls to rendezvous with Kiku.

"Somebody is slaughtering the guards." Kiku sounded panicked. "Stay as far away as possible. He's dangerous."

"Who?" Ludwig asked as the others caught up with him. He turned a questioning expression to Milen, but addressed Kiku as well, "Who is killing all the guards?"

"I don't—"

"A monster," Milen uttered, and for the first time, Ludwig noticed how pale he was and that there was a trickle of cold sweat down his temple. "I didn't stay long enough to recognize him—or get killed—but I heard the screams. It—he—is something from a legend, and—dead. We all thought he was dead but—"

"Stop wasting time," Ludwig snapped. "Who is it?"

A shadow flashed across Milen's eyes. Lukas stirred, as if sensing the unspoken words. His body tensed, a breath rattling from his weak chest. His movements came in lapses: a jerk of his head, a twist of his body. Lukas's dark blue eyes stared into the crimson darkness of the Prison through the wall, as if he could see past the shadows to something glorious and terrifying and entrancing.

Milen's eyes had settled on Lukas's bloodless face, on the open, almost yearning expression. When the guard spoke, his lips barely moved, so frightened he was of the name that would pass his lips. "They called him the Viking."

A strange smile flickered across Lukas's pale lips. It was content, with a hint of knowing. His mouth moved, but no sound came out to accompany these words. But they didn't need to be uttered. Even silent, Ludwig could hear the relief, the trust, the gentle, loving caress.

"Mathias."

Inside the Prison, the screams continued to echo.

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