EXILED

They built the prison to hold the worst of the worst.
But what they locked away wasn’t just prisoners —
It was something older. Something buried.
Deep underground, in Cell Block E, the guards stopped going.
Inmates whispered about a man who never slept. A cell that was always cold. A voice that echoed when no one spoke.
Then one night… the lights went out.
When they came back on, the block was empty.
No bodies. No blood.
Just scratched words on the walls:
“WE WERE NEVER ALONE.”
The prison was shut down. Sealed. Forgotten.
Until now.
You’ve been exiled here — locked inside what’s left.
The doors close behind you.
The air is still.
But the cells… are not empty.