But it still didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered except the overwhelming pain consuming every inch of her body and the darkness pulling insistently at the edges of her consciousness.
Her last coherent thought before awareness finally slipped away was heartbreakingly simple: I'm going to die here, in this cell, tonight.
And perhaps that would be a mercy after all.
Because living through this nightmare, surviving even one more day in this hellish place, seemed utterly impossible.
The darkness swallowed her whole, pulling her down into its depths.
The darkness was merciful, but it didn't last.
Shuyin drifted back to consciousness in pieces, awareness returning in fragmented layers. First came the pain, sharp and relentless, radiating from every corner of her body.
Then the cold seeped up from the thin mattress beneath her and settled deep into her bones. Finally, the sounds filtered through, reminding her where she was.
The prison never truly slept, even in the dead of night there were always noises drifting through the darkness: distant screaming from other cells, metal scraping against metal somewhere far off, guards' boots echoing down corridors in irregular patterns.
She tried to open her eyes but could only manage one, struggling against the weight of her own eyelid. The other remained swollen completely shut, the lid hot and tight against her face, throbbing with its own insistent rhythm.
Through her working eye, she saw the underside of the bunk above her, the metal frame barely visible in the dim glow filtering in from the corridor outside.
Every breath was absolute agony, each inhale and exhale feeling like her ribs were stabbing directly into her lungs.
Her face was a mask of swollen, throbbing pain, so distorted she could feel how misshapen it had become. Her broken hand lay useless beside her on the mattress, fingers swollen to twice their normal size, the skin stretched tight and discolored.
But despite everything, somehow, impossibly, she was alive.
Why was she still alive?
"She's awake," Blade's voice cut through the darkness like a knife.
Footsteps followed, someone approaching her bunk with measured steps. Shuyin tried to tense her muscles, to prepare herself for whatever was coming, but her body refused to obey any commands.
She was completely helpless, unable to even lift a finger in her own defense.
Tank's scarred face appeared above her, leaning down to look at her. In the dim light filtering through the cell, her expression was difficult to read, neither hostile nor particularly sympathetic.
"Don't try to move," Tank said quietly, her voice low and rough. "You're busted up real bad. Got broken ribs for sure, maybe some internal bleeding we can't see. That hand's gonna be useless for weeks, if it even heals right at all."
Shuyin tried to speak, to ask questions, but only a weak, pathetic rasp came from her throat. Her split lips cracked with the attempt, fresh blood welling up and trickling down her chin.
"Don't try talking either," Tank continued, watching her carefully. She reached under her own mattress and pulled something out, a small plastic bottle, cloudy and worn from age and handling.
"Contraband from the outside. Pain pills. Got them about three months ago in a trade. Been saving them for something important."
She carefully lifted Shuyin's head with surprising gentleness, even that small movement sent lightning bolts of fresh pain shooting through her entire body, and tipped two small white pills into her mouth.
Then she held a dented metal cup of water to Shuyin's cracked lips.
"Swallow them. Go slow and careful."
The water was lukewarm and tasted strongly of rust and metal, but it was liquid and her throat was so parched. Shuyin managed to swallow the pills despite the fact that it felt like swallowing broken glass, each gulp an act of willpower.
Tank lowered her head back down onto the thin pillow with the same careful gentleness.
"Those pills will take the edge off the pain. Won't do much, but they'll help somehow."
"Why..." Shuyin's voice was barely above a whisper, strained and broken. "Why are you helping me?"
Tank moved away and sat down heavily on Razor's bunk, crossing her muscular arms across her chest. In the shadows behind her, Shuyin could make out an image of Blade sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back against the wall, and Razor perched on the top bunk above them, her legs dangling over the edge.
"Because someone set all of us up," Tank said bluntly, not trying to sugarcoat anything. "You got powerful enemies, princess, powerful enough to get you thrown into Blackwater Ridge and straight into that fighting pit on your very first night here. You weren't supposed to survive that beating, and when you died from your injuries, they were planning to pin the whole thing on us three."