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The abyss.

Contrary to its name, it wasn\'t a specific place within the universe. It was just a generalized name for the highest tier of prisons developed by the hegemons for a very specific group of people.

For those who committed crimes but felt no remorse whatsoever.

One could find themselves in the abyss for something as small as snatching groceries on a regular basis, something average like bullying, big crimes like rapes and murders all the way to high crimes like treason or espionage.

Because in essence, it was wrong to call the abyss a prison. Calling it a resocialization center was more on the point.

On their own, abyss locations appeared like your average self-sufficient stations floating in space while maintaining only minimal contact with the rest of the universe. And even that was just to ensure its operations were going smoothly.

Yet, the insides of each of the abyss were chock-full of the highest grade of technology. Connectors, simulators, drug stores, all the cream of the top of what universal humanity came up with.

And those who were sentenced to the abyss, all went through a simple, uniform procedure.

First, the sentenced subject would be infused with stimulants that brought their perception of emotions, feeling, and physical experiences to a much higher degree.

Secondly, their data would be infused into the chamber they would be serving their time.

And lastly, they would be put into a shallow sleep and forced into a simulation that would put them on the other end of the equation of their crimes.

As such, a shoplifter would be forced to go through the annoyance of constantly updating the loss log while losing his mind over the costs it incurred.

An intellectual theft perpetrator would be forced to experience the anguish of having their hard work, sweat, and blood reduced to nothing while being forced to keep on going.

A rapist would go through the pain, both mental and physical, that he inflicted on their victims.

A spy would experience the organization he believed in fall apart due to its information leaking out.

"Send her to the abyss," the auditor said, snapping his fingers and sending his elites out of the mansion.

It was only at this moment that Catlea realized what awaited her.

She served Castor for three thousand years of desperation, depression, and deep pain. And now, deprived of all her memories in the simulation, she would have to go through an endless lifetime worth of the same pain that she inflicted on him.

Contrary to Castor, however, as soon as her sentence would conclude with the reveal of all that others would do to her in her simulation, rather than being served top-grade blockers, she would be forced to repeat the entire scenario over and over again.

Castor looked at the two elites dragging the struggling girl away. And with his brain filled to the brim with top-grade blockers, he simply turned his eyes back to the auditor.

"What am I to do now, sir?" he asked politely.

"I said that we will transfer you out of your current job... but the situation isn\'t as easy as it sounds," the auditor replied, picking his cutlery back up before returning to his meal. He then nodded his head forward, inviting Castor to do the same.

"If we attempted to rehash the mana root now, it wouldn\'t properly come into effect in time to fulfill its purpose," he explained while filling his plate with some fresh-looking cabbage.

"Sir, the current system should suffice to bring a necessary number of people through the mana wave," Castor reported. "It\'s broken, bugged, and unstable... but as long as it receives enough resources, it could be patched up."

"I know." The auditor smiled. Then, he snapped his fingers again, somehow sending a different message for this time it wasn\'t the elites that showed up but a massive levi-holoscreen. "One of the reasons why we used that absolute transporter to bring you is was because it operates on the last-century beam. It allowed us to send someone into your sanctuary while you were beamed here," he explained right as the holoscreen lit up.

It displayed a look at the insides of the control room of Castor\'s sanctuary. Yet, rather than being empty, it was currently occupied by a cute female donning a simplistic fleet uniform.

"How is it going, Alice?" the auditor asked.

"This entire thing is a mess stuck together with shit and fueled by prayers and hopes alone," the girl replied, not minding her tongue at all. She didn\'t even bother to raise her eyes to the lenses of the local camera, refusing to move them an inch away from the pagebook she was furiously tapping at.

For a few more moments, the girl was occupied with her job, ignoring the fact that the auditor himself was looking and waiting for a report. Only after a long while did she put her pagebook away and looked at the camera.

"Whoever made it work is a freaking genius. No academy procedure would work here, with that few resources and this mess of supporting systems," she exclaimed while shaking her head.

"You hear that, young man?" Auditor looked at Castor. Yet, any satisfaction that Castor could feel from those words of undeniable praise ended up erased, serving as fodder for his blockers. "I know you can\'t feel a thing right now, so make sure to dedicate those words to your memory."

"Wait, you are with the operator right now?!" Alice freaked out, dropping her pagebook and lunging forward. From Castor\'s perspective, her hands shoot to the sides only for the camera to shake when the girl pressed her forehead against its lenses.

[Video rerouting detected. Do you wish to allow it?]

A system message appeared right in the middle of the holoscreen.

"I allow it," Auditor said in a somewhat tired voice. "What do you need to fix it?" he then asked.

"A fuckton of mana to begin with," Alice said as soon as the system message disappeared from the holoscreen, replaced by a small reflection of what the girl now could see through her soul implants. "This system is so crude it doesn\'t need much processing power so a standard processor should suffice," the girl muttered as she went back and dropped on Castor\'s levichair.

The seat plunged down towards the floor before its gravity engines managed to overcome the sudden change to its weight, bringing itself back to its designated spot.

"Oh, and bring me that guy who made it," the girl then requested. "It will be a lot easier to fix it if I have him explain the deets."

"I\'m afraid it won\'t be that simple," the auditor shook his head with a look of disgust on his face. "There are more blockers in his blood than there are in the factory liquid," he added, referring to the special environment where the blockers were cultivated, or in simpler terms, produced.

It also happened to have a perfectly optimal density of blockers per unit of liquid.

"Looking at this mess, I can\'t say I\'m surprised..." the girl whispered, her face turned sour as she continued to tap on her pagebook. "Bring him here," she then ordered, ignoring the fact that she was talking to someone who outclassed her way more than a king would outclass a peasant. "It\'s the fleet\'s fault for not cleaning out that viper before so I will do my best to take responsibility and help him get back on track!"

"We will do just that, then," the auditor said. "Now, focus on your job, we will send him over soon," he added before swiping his hand through the air, causing the hololscreen to turn off before levitating away.

"Son," the auditor said in a low, patronizing voice when he turned his eyes back to Castor. "The fleet wronged you. And yet, you ended up finding a treasure hegemons would gladly go to war over," he added.

The auditor then stood up and walked around the table before placing his hand on Castor\'s head.

"Once the blockers will dissolve, you will have to face the trauma anyway," he said, rustling Castor\'s organic hair, something he opted never to replace. "That girl might be a weirdo..." he took a short pause before raising his hand and taking a step back. "But she will definitely help you heal."

The auditor then took another step to the back. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers for the third time since the meeting started.

"Send him back."