Planning Room
Kuna offered him the Sango green armour for camouflage. Moto looked at it and set it aside. He went to the old storeroom and came back in black rebel gear, the symbol on the chest.
Tanaka looked around the table. "Everyone understands the plan?"
Maka nodded immediately. Moto didn't look up. His gaze stayed on the table's surface, jaw set.
"Moto." Tanaka's voice was even. "We're not moving until you tell me you've calmed down."
Moto exhaled slowly. "Maka." He turned his head just enough. "Give me Lilly's key. I'll free her myself."
Nobody moved. Kunaka reached into her pouch and placed the key in his palm.
Tanaka stiffened. "Stop ignoring me."
Moto met her eyes. "Tanaka."
"Yes."
"Thank you for being here. Genuinely." A fractional softening in his voice. "It's good to know I haven't failed all of my friends."
"Moto—"
"But I need you to stop worrying about me right now," he said. "I won't be holding back."
Tanaka held his gaze. "Just don't be reckless. Amber will never forgive us."
Moto said nothing. Maka clapped once. "Alright. Let's move."
The Breach
A short distance from the prison gate, they split. Tanaka and Maka peeled into the shadows. Moto kept walking. Straight ahead.
He charged the front gate.
"Mot—" Makanaka's hand came down over Tanaka's mouth.
"That's not the plan," Tanaka whispered.
"He's made up his mind," Maka said.
"Oi! Who goes there—"
Moto drop-kicked him. The alarm sounded. He uppercut the next guard and stood as the platoon rushed him. Smoke exploded outward and swallowed the courtyard.
The Foyer
Moto moved through the prison foyer not as a fighter but as a condition. Every step left black smoke clinging to the floor like a living shadow, the halogen lights dimming into bruised twilight as the air thickened. His movements had weight to them now — a crushing economy that hadn't been there before the tournament. He intercepted a guard's strike and rolled inward, shattering the stance before driving a palm into the chest. He avoided the vitals. He wasn't there to kill.
The ground vibrated before he heard them.
A squad of heavy-set fighters in lime-green rolled into the open like a wall. One slammed his palms into the concrete. "Roots of the Earth!" Thick, thorny vines erupted from the floorboards and snaked around Moto's ankles, pinning his arms.
"We've got you now, Black Smoke."
Moto's necklace hummed. The Glitch Blade cleared the scabbard in one motion — not cutting so much as flickering through reality, the jagged edge severing the magical vines as if they were suggestion rather than matter.
He landed in a crouch, the smoke around him deepening. "Save your strength," he said.
The captain's hands came together. "Great Venus Maw!"
A massive carnivorous plant burst from beneath Moto, serrated leaves snapping shut. The squad piled on top, adding their weight. In the compressed dark inside, a low vibration built — below sound, below language.
"Smoke Zone..."
A spark of maroon ignited at the centre of the pressure.
"...DREADNOUGHT."
The detonation wasn't just outward — it was total and instantaneous, the idea of outward made real. The squad crossed the courtyard the way things cross courtyards when they don't choose to.
Moto stood in the crater, vest tattered, eyes carrying something that hadn't been there before Gwen. He didn't look back. He went straight into the prison.
Prison Rear — The Deep Levels
By the time Moto disappeared into the interior corridors, Tanaka and Kuna had already broken two holding blocks open. Tanaka reached Aemon first. Then Snake. Metal seals clanged to the floor.
"You took your time," Snake said, rubbing his wrists.
"You mean thank you," Tanaka replied.
Above them, sirens shifted pitch. Orders had been given — secure the most dangerous inmates. Two wardens were already descending to Byron's level: Onion and Tomato.
Tanaka spotted Jeffery near the corridor bend and moved toward him instinctively.
"It's fine," a rebel said. "He's with us."
Jeffery didn't speak. He looked at Snake. Snake held the gaze for a moment — figure out what you want to be — and Jeffery turned and ran deeper into the chaos.
"I have to find Najo," Tanaka said. "Snake — get Byron. You don't have his key but the guards will."
Metal shrieked. A blade shaped like a wing speared into the wall beside Snake. Hawk stood there, left wing forged into gleaming metal, eyes holding only him.
"Free Byron," Snake said quietly to Aemon.
"Me?" Aemon blinked.
Hawk laughed. "You won't make it. Do you know who's guarding his cell? Wardens Onion and Tomato."
Aemon's mind rendered: a cheerful onion and a round tomato. He grinned. "That's it? I just squash some fruits."
"They're vegeta—" Snake started.
"Say less." Aemon ran.
The Veggies of Vengeance
Aemon turned the corner and saw them.
Onion stood tall and skeletal, skin pale and half-peeled from the torso, the strips hanging down like a grotesque robe. From his exposed ribs, layers of flesh had separated and curled outward, hardening into twin sickles.
Beside him, Tomato was thick with muscle, skin a violent red. He reached to the crown of his head, gripped the green calyx, and tore it free. It extended. Lengthened. A massive green-bladed katana slid into his hand.
Aemon's grin died completely. "...Oh."
The Flood
Elsewhere, Tanaka found Najo's cell and stepped inside. For a second neither of them moved. Then she crossed the distance and held him.
"We don't have long," she said. "We need Dimakatso."
They ran. When they reached the earth-shaper's level, the door was already open. Dimakatso was collapsing forward. A hand withdrew from his chest.
"I hate babysitting prisoners," Eel said. He let the body fall, dragged it to an opening in the floor where dark water shimmered, and dropped it through. He flexed his fingers and moved toward the flooded section, skin already glistening.
Najo stepped forward. "Get her out safely." He faced Eel.
The Roof
Above them, Snake and Hawk burst onto the roof. A crescent moon hung low and sharp. Snake moved fluidly, dodging rather than striking. Hawk's metallic wing carved clean arcs through the night air.
"You're holding back," she said.
"You're stubborn," he replied.
Steel met rooftop. Sparks scattered into moonlight.
At the main entrance, chaos continued to bloom. Jeffery ran through it all.
Through the open gates, Bizure walked in.
Unhurried. A new baton slung over his shoulder. Humming quietly to himself, shoulders easy, as if tonight were a festival rather than a jailbreak.
Smoke drifted past him. He smiled.