*******
The iron bar doors clanged shut behind Adrian Vale with a finality that echoed through the stone corridors like a death sentence. The dungeon was damp, the scent of mildew thick in the air, and chains clinked with every breath he took as his wrists remained bound above him.
He groaned softly, blood trickling from the corner of his lip where one of the guards had struck him during the march down here.
"I'm not part of the Crimson Hunt," he repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice raspy but steady. "You've made a mistake. You're arresting the wrong person."
Magnus Thorn stood just beyond the bars, arms crossed, a flicker of both interest and boredom behind his cold eyes.
"We'll investigate that… later," Magnus said flatly. "Right now, you were named by a suspected crimson hunt associate, we will see what the truth is once we dig deeper, but for now, you will be locked up here."
