Reincarnated with the Country System

Imperial Black Site - (Maximum Security Zone)

04:14 A.M.

Deep beneath the surface, past ten layers of reinforced titanium doors, bio-coded clearance panels, and countless automated defense turrets, a nightmare stirred.

Every corridor was lined with anti-magic inhibitors, mana-dampening sigils, EMP fields, and AI-driven security drones. The facility had kill switches in place to flood entire sections with nerve gas or microwave pulse waves capable of liquefying a man's organs in seconds.

It was a place where escape was impossible.

And yet…

.....

Caspian exhaled.

His fingers twitched.

A slow grin split his lips as he felt something return—something taken from him when he was dragged into this place, drugged, tortured, humiliated.

Power.

It coiled through his veins, cold and raw, whispering through his blood like a sentient force.

The anti-mana field struggled against him, its humming frequencies rising in protest. The arcane suppression sigils on the walls burned bright blue, warning the security systems of something terribly wrong.

Caspian flexed his fingers. Shadows flickered at the edges of his vision.

The chains groaned.

A small crack formed along one of the titanium links.

A sharp snap.

Then another.

And another.

One by one, the chains shattered, clattering to the damp stone floor. The sound echoed through the empty corridor, lost in the void of silence that had swallowed this place.

Caspian rolled his shoulders, feeling the stiff ache of his muscles. The scars from his torture still marked his body, fresh and deep, but the pain was irrelevant now. He had no need for pain anymore.

A slow smirk twisted his lips.

---

Outside the cell block, two guards patrolled the hallway, their boots clicking against the cold stone floor. One of them, a grizzled veteran named Harker, rubbed a hand down his face, sighing.

"Fucking grave shift," he muttered.

"That bad?" the younger one asked.

"Of course!"

"Umm.... As far as I know, there aren't that many criminals here. Especially dangerous. But still, security has been increased a lot more than before. Even special teams from ISSD have been deployed."

Harker shot him a look. "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"The thing in Cell Zero. The one they brought in last week. That's no ordinary prisoner."

The young guard hesitated. "The fallen king?"

Harker scoffed. "Fallen or not, that bastard conquered half the continent before he was taken down. You don't just throw someone like that into a cell and expect them to stay broken forever. I don't care how many runes they carve into the walls."

The younger soldier swallowed. "You think he's dangerous?"

"I think he's still breathing," Harker said. "And that's dangerous enough."

A sharp noise cut through the air.

Harker froze.

The young guard turned, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword. "What was that?"

A low, distorted whisper slithered through the corridor.

Something shifted in the shadows.

Harker's blood turned to ice.

Then—

The torches went out.

The corridor plunged into pitch blackness.

"Shit—!"

A scream. Wet, gurgling.

The young soldier turned just in time to see Harker lifted off the ground, his body thrashing violently. Black tendrils coiled around his limbs, dragging him into the dark. His eyes bulged, his mouth opened in a soundless plea—

Then, with a sickening crack, his neck snapped.

The young guard stumbled back, his breath ragged.

Then, a voice.

Deep. Amused.

"Run."

The soldier didn't hesitate.

He bolted down the corridor, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his heartbeat hammering in his chest. He didn't look back. He couldn't look back.

He reached the exit, slammed into the security door, frantically punching in his access code.

"LOCKDOWN! LOCKDOWN!" he screamed into his comms.

The system beeped—denied.

He turned, his back pressed against the door, just in time to see a Evil smile.

"You should have run faster."

__________

IMPERIAL BLACK SITE – COMMAND CENTER

The Command Center was buried at Level 5, a fortress of screens, holographic displays, and heavily armed personnel.

Major Donovan Krause, senior commander of the Imperial Special Security Division (ISSD), was enjoying a cigarette when the alarms went off.

⚠ ALERT: ANOMALY DETECTED IN CELL ZERO! ENERGY LEVELS UNSTABLE! ⚠

His cigarette dropped.

"The fuck do you mean, 'unstable'?" he barked.

A technician, drenched in sweat, turned toward him. "Sir… the mana-dampening field is—it's failing."

Krause's blood ran cold.

That was impossible.

"Sector Kill-Switch, now! Gas the bastard before—"

The lights flickered.

Then—

Total darkness.

A second later, the prison screamed.

---

LEVEL 10

The pressure-sensitive floors detected movement outside protocol parameters.

Immediate Response Protocol Activated.

Automated gun turrets deployed.

Pulse-wave emitters charged.

EMP barriers engaged.

Thermal motion-tracking drones launched.

Caspian rose from his shackles, stretching for the first time in weeks.

The automated defense system engaged.

Target Locked.

> ⚠ WARNING: OMEGA-CLASS ENTITY DETECTED. LETHAL FORCE AUTHORIZED. ⚠

The turrets whirred, targeting his head, chest, and spinal cord.

They fired.

A storm of hyper-velocity rounds shredded the air—enough firepower to tear apart military mechs.

The bullets froze mid-air.

Then, as if gravity had betrayed them, they dropped harmlessly to the floor.

The turrets twisted, bending at unnatural angles, their metal frames screeching as unseen forces crushed them.

Caspian tilted his head.

"That all?"

A security drone descended from the ceiling, targeting him with plasma cannons.

It fired.

The air warped—the plasma shot curved backward, blasting the drone apart instead.

Caspian stepped forward.

The pressure-sensitive floor registered his movement.

KILL SWITCH INITIATED.

The ceiling opened, releasing a wave of nerve gas capable of melting lungs.

Caspian exhaled, and the gas reversed direction, flowing back into the vents, corroding the internal systems instead.

> ⚠ SYSTEM FAILURE – SECTOR 10 OVERRUN. ⚠

Krause's voice came over the loudspeakers.

"All units! Lethal engagement! Deploy ISSD Shock Troopers—NOW!"

---

LEVEL 9

The ISSD Shock Troopers were the best of the best—clad in power armor, armed with thermal blades, rail rifles, and anti-magic suppressors.

Captain Roth Mendez led the charge.

"Weapons free! We put this fucker down!"

The first squad rushed the corridor.

Caspian watched them approach, his expression unreadable.

"OPEN FIRE!"

The rail rifles screamed—projectiles moving at hypersonic speeds.

Caspian raised a hand.

The walls cracked.

A shockwave ripped forward—the first five soldiers imploded on impact, their armor crumpling like paper.

Another trooper swung his thermal blade—Caspian snapped his fingers.

The blade shattered, and the soldier exploded into a fine red mist.

The Captain activated his anti-magic suppressor, unleashing a focused pulse-wave designed to disrupt supernatural energy.

Caspian grinned.

The pulse-wave hit him.

Nothing happened.

He blinked—and Mendez's armor compressed, crushing him into a bloody pulp.

The rest of the troopers turned to run.

Caspian raised his hand.

The air shook—their bodies folded inward, spines snapping like twigs.

> ⚠ LEVEL 9 SECURITY FORCES – ELIMINATED. ⚠