Chapter Text
They called it “The Pit”. A fitting name for the most secure galactic prison in the known universe. Allegedly. Since the end of the War, the rebuilding efforts moved at an unprecedented speed, with the Citadel being nearly fully finished, and even improved with some new perks. Easy to glue things back together when you had the entire Reaper force at your disposal, on top of their collective knowledge and technology. The Pit was one of such additions.
A technological marvel, it was a fortress that could change its layout according to the warden’s wishes. Not a soul was to ever escape this labyrinthine maze; the prison becoming their forever hell. Afterall, only the worst of the worst ended up here, which meant life sentences. They were there to rot, and to be reminded of it every single day.
He lost count some time ago. It could have been a month, or a year. Who knew. The galaxy’s infamous Cerberus assassin was initially moved from prison to prison, as no one could agree on where he belonged, or which prison could hold him with no risk of a possible escape.
Kai Leng had to give it to the Alliance, they seemed adamant on keeping him, humanity’s infamous traitor, and fought long and hard to get him under their jurisdiction. He used to be a N7 agent, after all. A human, the most elite of the elite that humanity could offer, and he still turned to Cerberus. Funny how things turned out. Controlling the Reapers and using them to advance humanity had been the Cerberus agenda seemingly forever, and now others got to enjoy the benefits, while he and his fellow agents who paved the way were regarded as lesser than dirt. If the Alliance had listened to The Illusive Man, they would have been calling the shots, but no, they wanted to play nice, and now they could not even get the hands on their own species’ “greatest betrayer”.
Living one, anyway. They had no one else, no other scapegoat from the actually important Cerberus leaders and agents, so he got the dubious honor of enabling the Council members to pat themselves on the back for serving “justice”.
The former assassin would have preferred being taken by the Alliance. Rather be kept as a caged animal by his own kind, than being incinerated and watched over by a plethora of aliens. For no matter the humans’ outrage and fervor, that was a battle the humanity did not win. The Council had a final say and here he was, in the Pit.
And even then, no matter how atrocious the normal Pit experience was, it paled in comparison to the solitary cells. The bravest, the most battle-hardened and the cruelest criminals became as meek as a sheep, when the threat of being in one of those was even suggested as a punishment.
He got dropped into one soon after his arrival and hadn’t left it since. In a twisted way, he was almost proud of being deemed that dangerous and special. Leng clung to the spite, to the anger, the only things keeping him sane here.
Initially, the man scoffed at the idea of letting it affect him. He used to be the best of the best. He was best of the best. Until Shepard showed up. The man was a freak of nature, an impossibility. Unprecedented. If the Illusive Man or the Reapers could not stop whatever Shepard was, how could he?
Days blurred together. He missed the simplicity of working for the Illusive Man. Clear goals and missions. When the Reaper enhancements got installed into him, it became even simpler. No pesky emotions to get in the way. He was simply a weapon, a tool. Precise and deadly.
Silence, near darkness, solitude, those were his only companions nowadays, with the occasional food drop. No goal or purpose. Before, in his glory days, none of that would have had affected him. Now, he could feel it slowly chipping away at his mind and body. It did not matter; he tried telling himself. He had to remain strong. He would use the time to plan his escape, right from under their noses.
When he made no progress on that front, he turned to mocking the guards. They were so easily baited, it made him laugh while they rained blows upon him. He was ruined and rebuilt before; this was nothing. The augments were missed, however. If only he had them, Leng would have escaped like a ghost ages ago. As it stood, only the legs remained. And of course nothing would change the eerie, machine-like appearance of his eyes. At least they did not leave him crippled, he supposed. Except that time, of course. They took his legs, and the food away for a week, maybe? A definite low point. The ex-Cerberus agent despised them for it, and himself even more for the weakness. How easily they could cow him, because of those damned legs. He stopped with the little rebellions and behaved afterward, all the while gritting his teeth.
Some nights, when sleep would not come, and the darkness loomed more oppressively than usual, Leng almost wished Shepard had killed him during their fight, back in Cerberus’ Headquarters. Instead, the Hero of the Galaxy, the Savior of the Citadel declared death to be too good for the likes of him and that they were not finished.
What a joke. The man then died soon after, and Leng was stuck, forgotten. It felt dissatisfying. They were supposed to kill each other, die by the other’s hands. He refused to waste away and die of old age, like a pathetic nobody. Thus, he plotted and hoped. His moment would come.
Kai Leng had always been a light sleeper. So, when an out of the ordinary clicking sound briefly interrupted the usual deathly stillness of the night, he took notice. The cell door opened steadily, until it stopped with a soft thud, leaving enough space for a fully grown man to pass through easily. He pushed his overgrown hair away from his face, to get a better look. Cautiously, in utter disbelief, Leng sat up gingerly after a brief moment of deliberation.
Loud, crashing noises erupted near and far. The man started, and quickly got to his feet, swiftly approaching the opened door. Shouts soon mixed in with the mechanical sounds.
Frustration, giddiness, and confusion warred within him. He hadn’t left this cell in ages. He didn’t know the layout of the prison. This opportunity could be his only chance to get out, but which way was he supposed to go?
A screen on the nearest wall appeared seemingly out of thin air, disrupting his personal crisis. A single flickering blue arrow pointed somewhere to the left. Leng checked the dark corridor, right and left, and then went the suggested direction. Not like he had a better plan, so might as well see what this was all about. Did some obscure Cerberus agent manage to find him? Did a cell survive?
Another screen appeared, leading him to a wall. Unsure, he stared at the polished white surface, before tapping his fingers against it. With barely a sound, the section slid to the side, revealing a long, narrow passage in its wake.
Fueled by adrenaline, Leng rushed through, even as his muscles and body soon began to scream in protest, consequence of years of disuse. While he did exercise every day and tried to keep himself in top condition, both to be always prepared and to pass time, running was never exactly an option within the confines of his tiny cell.
Whenever he encountered a dead end, another section of the wall would move, and a new way forward revealed itself. Section by section, he was getting… somewhere. He really held onto the hope that this was indeed a genuine attempt to break him out, and not some sick game the warden wanted to play, only to punish him harsher than before for the attempted escape.
One more wall moved, and his lungs drew in fresh air. Leng almost choked, the change unexpected. Frantic, he moved forward and found himself standing on top of a ledge, a thousand, a million of artificial lights as far as eye could see. The Citadel, full of life.
He gripped the ledge hard, seeking to anchor himself. To his horror he felt liquid stream down his face. Furiously, he rubbed at his eyes, all the while taking ragged breaths. Of course, he never stopped believing an escape would be possible, but as time passed, doubts set in. But he got all the way here. He could do this.
Refocusing on the present situation, he looked around. The drop was much too high to try jumping down, unless he wanted to be scraped from the pavement tomorrow. Soft whirring sound interrupted his train of thought, and from the darkness of the night a small, sleek vehicle approached his exact position.
The dark metallic surface of the skycar reflected no light. Similarly, the black, tinted windows allowed no opportunity to discern the identity of the driver. Luckily, Leng did not have to wait long, as the vehicle’s door opened and the brightly lit interior greeted him suddenly, making the former assassin wince.
“Come on, we don’t have much time. Took you longer than I expected. Can’t keep them busy for the entire night,” the driver said with a wink.
Leng’s brow furrowed, scanning the other man’s features, as he tried to place him. The man looked… strong. Dark blue eyes looked right back at the ex-agent. The man’s powerful, clearly muscled arms did not seem to fit well into the leather jacket he was wearing. His blond hair was kept short, and if Leng could trust his instincts, the other man seemed almost giddy, thrumming his fingers against the skycar’s controls, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. The other was not a Cerberus agent he had ever met before. He would remember someone as imposing.
The driver looked like a handsome and fit man, clearly of military bearing, with an aura of danger about him. A predator. Leng could recognize one at a first glance. He used to be one, after all. In his prime, he would welcome the challenge of testing his own skill against his unexpected savior, later down the line, be it in a friendly match or duel to the death, depending on how events would play out in the future. Those days were in the past, however. It would take him months to get back into shape.
“Who are you? Why are you helping me?” He asked, voice cracking from disuse.
The blond actually smiled then. “Oh, you can call me Knight. Obviously, I know who you are. We have mutual acquaintances.”
The man would not break eye contact, steadily staring into Leng’s eyes, until the convict wavered first, choosing to look down instead, way below. The chaos of the prison still raged, but for how long?
“We really should go, you know. Unless you prefer the cells that much? All of this took a lot of effort, planning and resources. If you chicken out now, I can’t exactly promise to try again soon,” Knight mused. “I have a safe house not too far from here. We should be able to lay low, until the heat blows over a bit. I can explain everything to you there.”
Leng nodded awkwardly, and climbed into the free seat, still not meeting the other man’s gaze, trying to think about the options ahead of him. The door closed, trapping him inside the vehicle. Rigidly, he sat in his seat, looking out the front window, side eyeing the man next to him subtly all the while. Leaving the Citadel as soon as possible and hiding somewhere within the Terminus system seemed the best bet, at least in his view. Probably not on Omega though. After their last attempt to take over the station, Leng did not want to risk running into the Queen of Omega’s goons or face her wrath. Hopefully his savior already had some kind of a plan.
Knight finally turned his attention from Leng, thumbed over the controls and the radio blared to life, an electronic beat filling the silence between the two men. The skycar turned toward the city and soon, the prison became a forgotten, dark shape in the distance behind them.
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“We are here,” said a deep, masculine voice.
Leng jerked awake. Instantly on high alert, he cursed himself for dozing off. The escape must have taken more out of him than he initially realized. Throughout the ride, he kept imagining the different scenario and paths that would be the most plausible for him, and somewhere along the way he must have fallen asleep.
“Put this on, we wouldn’t want to have people asking questions or pay too much attention to you,” Knight continued, presenting a thick, dark visor to Leng. “Your eyes are … striking.”
The brunette did not argue the point and took the visor stiffly. He had no idea what he looked like currently, there were no mirrors in the cell, but the artificially bright blue eyes he obtained as part of his upgrades most definitely remained the same.
“There you go, a completely normal, ordinary man. You could open a store and start selling fish tomorrow, if you wanted to,” the larger man joked, and stepped out of the skycar.
Climbing out as well, Leng checked his surroundings. Graffiti adorned many of the once grey walls, and the local buildings were clearly built from cheap material. The unmistakable feel of the Wards was present; the noise, the filth, the loud music blaring from one of the open windows, all of it. The opulence of the Presidium was a distant dream here.
“I know it’s not the prettiest sight. Easier to stay hidden though, right?” Commented his companion. “Don’t worry, we won’t be out in the streets for long. Not much further.”
Leng wasn’t so sure about the discreetness of their arrival or stay, as already their vehicle was starting to draw attention. The skycar was probably the most expensive thing these people had ever seen. Two men at the end of the street pointed at the sleek machine with no subtlety at all, while clearly having an animated discussion.
Knight summoned his omnitool, typed in a brief command, and the skycar ascended to the air, leaving them stranded on the street. They were too exposed, and Leng felt his skin itch, the noise and chaos of civilization such a stark departure from what his life had been these past few years. A sniper could have taken them out at least a dozen times by now.
“And done. Let’s go,” said Knight, not waiting for Leng’s reply, seemingly oblivious to the brunette’s discomfort. The man’s large frame moved swiftly to one of the nearby alleys. After one more quick sweep of the area, the escaped convict followed.
They passed dubious looking establishments along the way, bright, gauche signs covering much of the walls. Various styles of music played from all directions, all loud and bombastic, mixing into an incomprehensible mess. Leng could feel the incoming headache building up. Some of the local thugs, because that is what they were, large, tattooed, and menacing, gave a curt nod to Knight as they walked by them.
“Friends of yours?” Leng could not help but ask.
The blond shrugged. “I operate in this area, and having local contacts helps. They know only what little information I let slip. Strictly need to know basis. None of them have a clue as to what I have been truly up to lately. Too risky. I am not an idiot. Just keep your head down and stick close to me.”
Only two streets down, the atmosphere changed drastically. Gone was the overwhelming chaos of crowds and overabundance of lights. The place was barely lit up, and aside from one homeless man sleeping under a lump of blankets, the alley seemed deserted.
Leng finally felt like he could breathe a bit. He rubbed a tired hand over his face, before refocusing his attention on Knight. The said man stood in front of a heavy, metallic door, softly tapping on his omnitool. An orange, electronic glow covered the door briefly, before something within the inner mechanisms clicked, and the door opened. The omnitool shut off, and Knight met the brunette’s eyes, head tilted toward the entrance.
“Well, welcome to my castle. It’s not much, but we should be safe here.” Knight disappeared into the depths of the house as he said so.
The escaped convict hesitated briefly, before crossing the threshold as well. The door closed behind him automatically, and a whirring sound confirmed it locked itself.
Leng did not know what to expect from a safe house in a dubious area within the Wards, but his assumption would have been a barebone, strictly functional set up. Instead, luxury oozed out of every inch of the room he found himself in. A penthouse of this quality could have easily been found in the fanciest parts of the presidium. The surfaces were clean, modern. Marble, glass, and slick steel dominated the area, and many paintings hung on the walls. Plants were generously placed around, breathing life to the room, and one of the walls even housed a large aquarium with numerous exotic fish swimming along the fake coral reef built within it.
Lost for words, he turned to Knight, who was watching him silently.
“Pretty, right? Definitely an improvement over your little cell, I’d wager. Though, I could never tell with you Cerberus types. Some of your scientists seemed to have preferred what looked like evil lairs. Lot of cages, force fields. Despair. But I think the Illusive Man would appreciate this. And you were so very loyal to him in particular, no?” Knight’s smile was all teeth, his gaze intense.
Cold tendrils of dread began to seep into Leng’s body. With a quick glance, he tried to check for a weapon, or an escape route. He had none of his gear, and the years of incineration took a toll on his skills. He was rusty, and out of shape. If this devolved into a fight, odds would not be in his favor.
“Oh, I wouldn’t bother. Everything here is directly under my control. I don’t think you can comprehend just how literal I am being at this moment, but don’t worry. You will understand sooner or later.”
“What do you want? Who are you really?” Leng growled. “Alliance, I assume? Wanting to live out your little revenge fantasy, since those big bad aliens took away your chance?”
Knight only shrugged. “I won’t lie and pretend those aren’t some of the reasons. But only those? That would be much too boring. Too… generic. No, no. See, a long time ago, I would have taken the high road, talked about justice, but somewhere along the way, life has a tendency to change you, make you see how truly rotten the universe is, and you have to adapt to survive,” the blond looked almost wistful.
Making the smallest of steps, Leng tried to discreetly put some distance between himself and his opponent. The kitchen was not far, from what he glimpsed. There were bound to be some knives there. He only had to keep the other man distracted.
“Ah, so no holier than thou speeches coming up? How my powers can be used for good, if only I would be shown the correct path? Shame. Could have used the laugh. What will it be then? Are you going to skewer me like a pig and make me bleed all over your fancy carpets instead?” Asked the former Cerberus agent, teeth bared, looking like a feral animal.
Knight laughed at that. “No, not quite. You see, I am no longer the virtuous hopeful boy scout I used to be, so I can admit this is all very, very personal. Most of the misery in my life can be attributed to your little club. Fortunately for them, they are all dead and gone, beyond my reach. You though… Well, we had something special going on, wouldn’t you say? Seems fitting that it would be just the two of us in the end.”
That made Leng pause for a bit. What in the fuck was the delusional maniac talking about. Again, he was quite sure he would have remembered someone like Knight. He always took note of the dangerous ones. It was the pragmatic way of doing things and surviving in his field of work.
“You don’t recognize me. My, I am hurt. Slightly different appearance, different hair color, and you can’t even take a guess? Organics really are so superficial.” The blonde made a step forward, and Leng immediately bolted, aiming for the kitchen. There, on the counter, laid a knife holder and what a welcome sight it was. He grabbed the biggest knife, sorely mourning the absence of his sword, and he twirled around to face the enemy.
Said man did not seem to be rattled in the slightest. “Oh, fun. I was hoping you wouldn’t make it easy. Say what, I will let you have a shot at taking me down. Afterward, you will have to unfortunately listen to the rest of my monologue, since you see, I worked quite hard on it. And I don’t even like speeches to begin with.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Leng hissed. “Let me out, and this does not have to get ugly.” Under normal circumstances, he would not wish to leave a living witness behind, but in his current condition risking a full-blown fight could cost him dearly.
“Well, that’s new. You, trying out diplomacy instead of going straight for murder. None of your fun little taunts either? Disappointing. I’ll need to get you back into shape. I did notice you lost quite a bit of weight, but I was still hoping… no matter. We have time. All the time in the world, as it stands.” Knight then advanced on him with no hesitation, stride determined.
Leng retreated behind the large kitchen table, keeping it between himself and the taller man, knife clutched tightly in his left hand.
“Look, we don’t have the whole night. Let me tell you what your life is going to be like, starting now. You are going to lie down on the bed I prepared for you, sleep, and then you are going to start your recovery regime. You are going to eat properly, and train as you never had before. I want you in peak condition. And you honestly need a good shave. The scruff on your face doesn’t fit the Kai Leng, Cerberus Assassin look you had going on.”
The ex-assassin wasn’t planning on sticking around to play into whatever weird fantasies the clearly deranged man in front of him had, choosing to remain silent, as he tried to calculate in his head if he would be able to throw the knife in a way that would injure the blond from his current position.
Knight’s next words made him pause, unexpectedly:” I bet some nights you dreamed about me having killed you instead. Should have taken that silly sword of yours and used it against you, giving you the same death you gave to Thane. Would have been quite poetic, no? I wonder if you even remember him, since you murdered countless others, and probably never spared a single thought for any of them.”
Seriously, who the hell was this guy? He spouted the strangest things, some of them too close for comfort. Fuck it, Leng thought and risked it, feigning movement to the right, before dashing to the left instead.
The floor was cold, and hard. Pain exploded in his knees once they crashed against it. Disoriented, the brunette tried to piece together how he got there. He couldn’t have been that weak as to crash after a few steps. Knight loomed over him now. What? How? None of it made sense. Messy, loose strands of his dark hair obscured his vision partially. Leng tried to get up, move, speak, anything. Panic and disbelief gripped him, when his legs did not even twitch. Here he was, a prisoner of his own body, yet it had no rational explanation.
The man above him tutted. “All done with your little tantrum? Will you listen now? Not like you have a choice, obviously.” Leng’s head jerked up, against his own will, gaze firmly locked on the blond.
Said man lowered himself on the floor, right in front of the brunette, a look of barely contained excitement clearly written all over his face. “Sorry, simply enjoying the fruits of my labor. Those Reaper enhancements weren’t such a great idea after all, were they? The whole bit regarding control, and all that. You all made yourselves willing puppets. And then forcefully turned those who weren’t willing. Not as much fun when used against you, is it?”
All Leng could do was scream and rage internally.
“I had some time to tweak it, as you can see. No sweet whispers, lulling you slowly into doing what I want almost willingly. Your mind will be yours. I want you to know what is happening. As long as you obey my commands, you will have your body autonomy. The moment you try anything funny; those privileges will be gone. And trust me, I will know. I know and see everything these days. So, you can be a good boy and do as I say, which you will hate no doubt, or disobey me, and I will make you do it regardless. Which you will also hate. I am curious to see what you will prefer. You are a spiteful little creature, I am well aware, but I don’t see why you would insist on fighting me so hard about having to eat and sleep. It’s not entertaining at all, fighting a tired, malnourished man, so until we get you a bit fixed up, you have nothing to fear. After that… well, I am sure both of us would enjoy a rematch. Which you will lose. Again.”
Jerkily, like a puppet on strings, Kai Leng stood up. Knight followed soon after, getting almost uncomfortably close to the other man while doing so, his voice lowered to a mere whisper:” I did tell you death was too good for the likes of you. We were not finished then, and we won’t be, for a very long time.”
A large hand patted Leng’s cheek in a condescending way. “Off to your room now. It was a long day,” Knight said cheerfully. “Follow me.”
And Leng went, powerless to disobey.