Corvo had finally decided to remove himself from the position he was in and crawl over to the tray, where an actual nice and freshly baked piece of bread laid on it. He grabbed a hold of it; he had been starving, and his body was beginning to eat away at his muscular form, and now he was several pounds lighter than he used to be, and not as masculine as before. Through the beard he had grown out, he shoved the bread into his mouth and bit off a huge chunk of it, chewing and rejoicing in its great taste and warm feel; the only decent thing he has had in forever. He swallowed then bit another chunk off, repeating this process, uncontrollably, not even bothering to savor it, only to get it into his stomach. He went so fast that he almost didn't notice the piece of paper and key that was previously under the piece of bread on the tray.

What's this? He thought, and he held his chewing. He picked up and unfolded the piece of paper, and in it were contents that he couldn't believe.

Lord Attano

Who we are is irrelevant now, as now is your time to escape. The key the guard has provided you is the one to your cell, use it. The guard should've left a sword for you to use. You must make your way to the torture chamber, and inside the safe in the backroom is a bomb. Use that bomb to blow open the outer door, then make your way into the harbor and escape through the sewer system.

Everything we worked and planned here for counts on you now.

-A Friend

This was so all of a sudden, and Corvo was taken back; but when he looked at the key in his hand, he swallowed the chewed bread in his mouth and his mind was set to the plan. He gripped the key firmly in his hand; now he was ready.

First he stuck his hand through the bars and fiddled with the lock on the other side slightly, some troubles came for him, but he was able to slip the key into it, and turn the lock until he heard a click. This allowed for the bars to slide open easily, and he pushed it off to the side. Now he was free.

Immediately, he looked to the other wall and saw the sword that he was told to retrieve. He grabbed it, and played around with it for a moment to get a good feel; it had been so long since he had his hands on a sword and he was rather rusty. He set it down for another second once he also noticed a guard's jacket draped over a chair, in which he grabbed and put on to, cover his chest finally. Now he was ready to go, as he picked up the sword again, he crouched and made his way left to the entrance to the cell block, where he had heard a couple of guards talking.

He leaned over the edge, and just in front of him, a few feet away, was a guard standing with his back to him, and he was facing down a pillared hall where two guards were talking about the Lord Protector and the execution that was supposed to happen tomorrow. Corvo began shaking, and the fire he had erupted in his head; he was angry, and he wanted vengeance. When he saw the side of the guards face, he immediately recognized him: one of the guards that liked to beat him up while he was tied to the chair.

Those rat bastards! I'm going to kill them…they deserve it! I'll make them pay! The vengeful protector gripped his sword vigorously, and silently he emerged from the corner and drove the blade into the neck of the unsuspecting guard, while covering his mouth to avoid him screaming. He fell with a thud, and this attracted the attention of the two others, but not quickly enough for those two to get a quick sword stabbed through them in vital areas. Now the room was cleared, and Corvo ran on into the next room, where he climbed a few pipes to reach the second floor and the balcony that overlooked the room with the dead guards.

"What the?" Corvo heard on the other side of a door. He immediately barged through and saw a guard looking down from the balcony, then being startled had distracted the guard from making any resilient move, and so Corvo shoved the sword through his heart. This one nearly screamed, but a vicious grab at his throat by the hands of the dishonored lord had squeezed his airways shut, rendering his words to only a choking and a dispersing of pain in his chest. This was followed by adrenaline of being strenuously thrown over the ledge, falling head first. Corvo wasted no time after he had heard the sickening crack of a neck, his reaction being none as he stormed on, no caution at all but his pure rage and killing skill that blended into a dangerous weapon that was him.

Blood. It was colored scarlet, and what was once the olive color that was his skin was now splattered with so much of this bitter wine, this liquid from beneath the flesh being not his. He had committed mass murder in a high security prison, and he thought nothing of it; he who once upheld the law as a figure of power, now a figure of pure violence. Through the slicing, the dismemberment, and the gutting, the corpses had faces that were frozen in place, portraying the emotion that the guards had last felt: panic, terror, fear.

Corvo's heart beat faster with every other kill, for each one assured him no satisfaction, no display of mercy or remorse. THEY DESERVED IT. Every terrible curse and lash that is inflicted is a reaction to the damning flame that they created in order to take them. Everything they have done had insured that they found their lives ended earlier and harder as justice beckons. No…it wasn't mass murder…it was mass suicide, for they have chosen this; unknowingly they begged for a painful, merciless death everytime they had done Corvo wrong; and now here they are, in fear for their pathetic lives as though they never expected this.

Corvo was the suicide method.

He had continued his slashing in a manner of overkilling, to ensure not only the bodies remain lifeless and disfigured so that the families of these inhuman torture machines can truly cry and hurl over the sight of them, but so that their spirits can be assured no pass into the cosmos; no trace of life from them can exist any longer, in this reality or the next. Everything about them would be obliterated, to cease eternally so that there is no one thing about the conscience of them left in the universe.

Corvo had been so caught up in the sound of…suicide…that he almost forgot what the message had said. He needed to find the bomb, in which he did. It was hiding in a safe in the back of the dreaded torture room in which he could not stand being in. Carrying it under his armpit, he went out quickly so that he may not have to bear being in that appalling room longer than he has to.

One objective completed, and he carried on his duty of bringing suicide to the guards even with just one hand. By the time he had gotten to the gates, dozens lay lifeless, and the cold metal floors ran with a river of blood, pouring down stair steps like a waterfall. Then the reinforced door blew, sending a loud bang that can be heard through probably all of Dunwall. Corvo, being inside, though in cover, was blown back 5 feet and his back hit a control panel, smashing the equipment. His body fell flat on the floor, and his knockout lasted only a few seconds, and he groaned though he couldn't hear himself through his ringing ears.

His eyes regained their vision, and lifting himself up, he saw through the smoke the clearing the time bomb had made. It was now that time was of the essence, and he had to make his escape, but as he tried to dash, a sharp pain seared in his side, and he grimaced, holding the area where it hurt. It was obvious that his impact with the console had left a bad bruise, or even a broken rib or two; perhaps he should've considered a spot of cover that was down the stairs. Regardless, he took off, but his movement was slowed down.

As he went out the door, there was a drawbridge; but it was being lifted during the alarm. An alternative presented itself: an immediate right, going down a flight of stairs, so down he went. Across on another platform, two dumbfounded guards were alerted by the sight of him, and they pulled out their flintlock pistols and began firing at him. Even with updated technology, flintlocks were still the hardest weapons to actually hit anything with, so their two shots missed and ricochet off of the metal stairs near Corvo's feet. Corvo used this as his igniter, and his speed picked up going down the stairs. After a wrap around, he found that the bottom stair led to a drop into the Wrenhaven River; he stopped and hesitated, but another ricochet from a bullet had forced him to back up and taking a leap.

The blood rushed from his lower region, and the wind blew up his hair, until he felt the breezy cold of the water and the suppression of sound. The pain in his side returned, worse than ever now that the water was outstretching his arms. He had to fight the pain the best he could, so he held the region and made a half-assed doggy paddle to the shore on the other side. He resurfaced, his hair over his eyes and drooling water, and he grunted as he pulled himself ashore. But he had no time to rest, as more shots rang and the bullets again nearly hit him; so he jumped back on his feet and made a mad dash for the door that led to the sewer system.

The sewers were an inhospitable place, but at times it could be good for shelter. Its confusing corridors and darkness could offer great places to hide, and provide for temporary rest. So that is what Corvo had done. He slowed down, hunched and weak, and leaned against the stone. He took off the jacket he had to observe the damage. Though it was dark, it didn't take much to see that he had a nasty bruise, above all the other wounds from torture that were aching at that point. He hissed at the pain, and put his coat back on, so that he could keep moving.

At one point, he found a suspicious briefcase, and on it had a letter, which he read it to be addressed to him.

Lord Attano

If you are reading this, then you are progressing well. By now, the guards might have entered the sewers and is looking for you, but your escape must be covered.

In this briefcase are a few items that might be of interest to you. Both lethal and non-lethal, regardless, you should use them if you're to not be followed.

Corvo opened the briefcase and what he found in there had given him slightly more of an edge. He pulled out a hand cross bow, along with three darts and three needle tip darts containing a green glowing fluid; they must be the non-lethals. The other item he pulled out was a magnificent sword, and getting his hands on it, the blade suddenly extended out from the handle, surprising Corvo but bringing a smirk to his face when he twirled it around for a feel.

These weapons were specialized for your talents; so consider them a gesture of gratitude for your co-operation, so far.

If you make it to the end of the sewer and go out a tunnel, you will meet a man by the shore named Samuel. He's someone you can trust, and he'll bring you to us.

-Your Friends

Corvo crumpled up the note and dropped it in the water in knowledge that he had to get rid of evidence linking someone in aiding his escape, as if Corvo acquiring a bomb wasn't suspicious enough. With that, he locked his new weapons onto him and moved on.

Corvo had evaded some patrols, even had to kill a few more men to make it to the tunnel for his escape from the sewer. When he reached it, the light nearly blinded him, but when he emerged his eyes adjusted to see a figure standing feet away from him.

"Corvo!"

After the days events, the sudden voice had shocked him, and Corvo being too careful gasped and lifted his crossbow armed with the last arrow. His eyes widened to the adjusted view of a harmless looking old man with white hair, sideburns, wrinkly face, and dusty brown clothes. This old man lifted his hands in the air.

"Woah, easy Corvo. I'm Samuel; I'm working with your friends who busted you out of confinement. You can trust me."

Despite reading the note earlier, Corvo didn't lower suspicion and kept his weapon trained on Samuel's head.

"Corvo…our mutual friends know you didn't kill the Empress, that's why they arranged your escape. They want to give you a second chance, but the details can't be discussed here. The patrols are still looking for you, and I'm your best bet to get to safety. Now please, lower your weapon and just trust me."

Corvo took deep breaths, and then decided, based upon Samuel's unhostile approach towards him, that he could trust him. So he sighed in relief and lowered his weapon.

"Good, you trust me. But there's time for a proper greeting later; right now we have to get to the hideout. Trust me, you'll be safe there."

Corvo nodded to him. "Alright, Samuel; let's go."