TOWN PRISON: SECTOR A78, DEEPEST LEVEL - NINTH NEST
Down on the prison's deepest level, barred from access under normal circumstances, laid the Nexus's most deranged criminals, isolated from the outside world indefinetely for unknown crimes. Perhaps it was better that way, for knowing might be a far worse bargain than most would wager. And locked in the farthest cell, blocked by thick iron gates and anti-magic hexes, a sole man was bound by chains that sapped his mana and used it to power the entire complex.
Well, man was an odd way to put it. He did have the basic humanoid shape of one, but its body burnt, perpetually on fire through some sick magic spell that even most scholars wouldn't dare experiment. While his room was normally pitch darkness, his body's flames allowed him enough light for him to count the bricks making up his cell. Well, as long as he kept this place up and didn't cause too much noise, they'd give him shelter and let him do as he pleased, rarely coming to bother him unless he requested so. Life here was simple, and perhaps even good. Good enough for him to allow himself a song.
"The itsy-bitsy spider. Climbed up the water spout. Down came the rain. And washed the spider out."
His was a delicate daily task that distracted him from the burning pain, when fantasizing about his vengeance wasn't an option. Those times were all to scarce and sparse in-between, not much different from the times he was allowed a meal. But today was different. Today, the pyromancer felt something was off. It wasn't that his magical inscriptions and notes on the nature of fire had shifted, or that his own blood he used to write them down had degraded until they were unreadable.
It wasn't even the noise, not that it wasn't annoying. He often threatened to burn his noisy fellow inmates to a crisp if they didn't cease their mad and pointless noises. Less than preferably they'd heed his requests. Maybe he should burn their tongues off first.
"Out came the sun. And dried up all the rain."
Ahh, but who was he kidding. This was not a matter of worry or annoyance, but routine. Routine! Because he was just waiting for the hero to come, so he may sizzle and fizzle and burn his skin to ashes, roast his bones and broil his spirit until he became an undying burning pyrolich. A suitable throne for his eventual rule, no doubt. And without a routine to keep his poor brain cells busy, he might just decide to leave for another complex after burning this one to the ground.
"And the itsy-bitsy spider. Climbed up the spout again. Hahahahahahahahahah!"
And suddenly, the door opened, and the burning jaw gaped open into a smile as the burning body spoke in an oddly calm tone despite his earlier display. "Ah, how timely! It's wonderful to see you're still doing well sir-"
A gunshot interrupted him, setting a bullet right in the middle of his skull. A sword was then planted into his abdomen, but the cut was too shallow to penetrate his organs. More swords came, a dozen of inmates and wardens alike swarmed his small cell, slashing and piercing into his arms, legs, stomach, neck and face.
That is what should have happened. But the moment the first inmates came in, the signs and writings on the walls came to life and began to shine a bright flame-like orange, enveloping the swords and guns in flames and melting them much to their horror. The room should have completely limited his magical output, he shouldn't be able to cast a single spell! Unless...
"At last, you miserable wardens would liberate me!?" He declared grandiosely! Yes, unless he merely had more power than this measly prison could hold! Opening the gate so widely was a mistake, one they normally would not have made! In this moment, the weapons that should've pierced through even his body were melting off like chocolate. This room was practically an oven, and considering metal had already begun to melt...
They didn't even have the strength to scream. As flames enveloped them, their bodies flailed while they wailed and turned to cinders.
"How amusing! I didn't think you fools could dance, hahahahahaha!" He stroked his lightly cut body and giggled at the wounds, staring at the blood that was burning like gasoline. "But this isn't enough! The scorching body of Dark Vlad can deal with such wounds with ease!"
Well, it wasn't all too bad! This nice small room had let him set his thoughts straight for a while. He was really thankful, but it was time to go.
He melted through the shackles those above were so certain would hold him in for good,burnt the gate and incinerated his stuffy prison clothes. "Hmph, this little vacation has gotten me a little rusty." He noted to himself when he realized how sluggish his movements felt once he got up and wiped the soot off his shoulders, and the fact the bodies were still recognizable carbonized wholes with distorted faces.
His conjured flames just erupted and spread through the entire lower block like an explosion, and when he left to walk up the stairs he was already clad in his old armor, just like in the good old days.
"Now, let's see. Just what is going on..." He said as he began to hover a few inches above air, moving on to reach the higher levels and see what this noise was all about. He somehow couldn't believe these incompetent vermin could plan a breakout like that. Something smelled odd...
Oh. Right. Burnt bodies, of course.
