Print was a table a few feet from where I stood. The bottom of the glass prison was slightly elevated and I gingerly put my foot on the floor, aware that there may be glass shards there waiting to cut into my bare feet.

The floor seemed to be made of steel, and was cold to the touch. I slowly moved my foot back and forth, brushing away shards of glass. The water that flooded the floor helped move the smaller shards. Once it was safe, I set my other foot down. I climbed off the platform and leaned forward, grabbed the table edge, and climbed on top of it.

            I walked across the table top towards the window. Through the dim light, I could make out a number of other tables. Devices I had never seen before rested on them. Perhaps they were enchanted tools, but their purpose was still unknown to me. I found them fascinating, but there was no time to investigate them.

            My foot connected with something solid and I stumbled. The table wobbled under me, but did not tip. I looked back at what I had tripped over. It was a box. Its contents had been spilled across the table when I tripped on it. I moved to it and investigated the contents.  It was my clothes. I ruffled through them and found the dia-blades with them. I sighed with relief.

I quickly got dressed and strapped the daggers to my waist, adjusting the belt to fit my own waist.

            Now for that window. Carefully, a felt the ground with my foot to be sure there was no glass before stepping down. I ran between two large devices that stood like monoliths with blinking lights on their surface and stepped over a big tube running towards the demolished remains of the container. I reached the window, only to find that it was too high for me to reach.

            I looked up at the window, the prize just out of reach. Freedom was just beyond reach. I looked around for something to use to stand on. In the darkness, I made out the shape of a stool. I moved towards in and tripped over the same tube I had stepped over just moments ago. I had forgotten it was there. I banged my elbow on a table and hissed in pain.

I grabbed the stool, tried to shake the pain from my elbow, and dragged it over to the window.

            I climbed on top of the stool and steadied myself. The window was just in reach. I undid the latch and pushed against the glass. It wouldn’t budge.

            Fearing that it wouldn’t open, I shoved again, putting both my arms into it. It moved out slightly. Its joints grinded against years of dust; it must not have been used often. I kept pushing, and gradually it gave way and opened wide enough for me to fit through. I pulled myself up into the opening and wormed my way out.

            My hands met grass. It was cold and damp, and I savored the texture. Of all the strange things I have seen so far, this was something familiar. .I pulled myself out onto it, welcoming the sensation. I was out of there. Free.

            No, not yet. I turned over on my back and when I looked up I saw there was a steel wire fence enclosing me in. I had escaped one prison only to enter another.

Wincing against the sting of discouragement, I inspected the fence. It was unlike anything I had seen before, and it was an interesting concept. Wire crisscrossed between each other, leaving behind openings large enough for me to fit my hand through. It was like it was made to be climbed.

            I put my foot in one of the openings, wrapped my fingers around a higher hole, and hoisted myself up. The openings in the links made perfect footholds and handholds. I reached the top and found it obstructed by a coil of wire that ran across the peak of the fence. It