"Keep walking, scum! Don't stop!"
The rough shove from the guard made Alex stumble forward slightly, but he regained his balance immediately. The heavy magnetic cuffs binding his wrists clinked with the sudden movement.
Alex lowered his head, feigning submission, but beneath the shadow of his pink hair, an arrogant smirk played on his lips.
The infiltration plan had worked flawlessly. Getting to the maximum-security prison, staggering up to the entrance disguised as a drunk mercenary, and breaking the first guard's nose with a mean right cross had been, without a doubt, the fastest and cheapest VIP ticket into the penitentiary of his life.
While being "politely" escorted by two armed guards to his new temporary home, Alex didn't waste a single second. His Hyper-Tactical Perspective was running at maximum capacity.
His eyes scanned the dark, damp environment with radar-like precision: he registered the blinking pattern of the security cameras, memorized the layout of the corridors, the cell intersections, and the blind spots where the fluorescent lights didn't quite reach.
By the time they stopped in front of a door made of solid titanium bars, Alex already had a 3D map of the entire prison in his head.
"Welcome to your new home, trash. Get used to the smell," the guard grunted, deactivating the cuffs and shoving him roughly into the cell before slamming the heavy door shut with a deafening CLANG.
Alex rubbed his wrists, taking in his tiny, reeking cell. It featured a rusted metal cot and a toilet. That was it.
"Five stars. I'll leave a glowing review online," he muttered sarcastically, dropping onto the cot.
He crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the damp-stained ceiling, running through the details of his mission.
Technically, Blakk's orders were straightforward: infiltrate, find a mad scientist named Quentin Collowsk, and help him escape to bring him back to the fortress labs.
But Alex was a strategist, not a glorified messenger boy. He knew breaking a lunatic out of jail was only half the battle. His true intention—his real endgame—was to persuade Collowsk during the breakout to join Blakk Industries of his own free will, swearing absolute loyalty to the company.
A captive scientist would always be looking for a way out; a loyal scientist would gladly get to work.
"A long time ago, in Scum Cavern..."
Scum Cavern. A place that truly lived up to its name. A hellish dumping ground, captured and ruled with an iron fist by a ruthless gang of marauders.
There were no heroes or justice in that cavern; the only law of the land was the strong trampling the weak. It was a reign of terror established by a sadistic criminal named Viggo Dare.
During Viggo's rule, the streets of Scum Cavern ran red with blood. Countless kids lost their parents, murdered for failing to pay extortion fees or simply on a bandit's whim.
Those orphans were tossed out into the dark streets, forced to fend for themselves and learn how to survive at an age when normal kids should only be worrying about playing.
Broken children, with no family and no hope, who had to dig through the trash, steal, fight, and become crueler than their own oppressors just to avoid starving to death or being killed.
The bluish glow of the monitors illuminated Valentina's pale face in the dimness of her office. Her agile fingers had hacked into the max-security prison's closed-circuit system with barely any effort.
On the main screen, security camera number 4 showed a pink-haired young man being shoved roughly into a damp cell.
Seeing Alex in there, locked behind those titanium bars, planted a cold knot in the Intelligence Commander's chest.
She knew it was just a mission. She knew he was the most lethal and calculating soldier in Blakk Industries. But her mind, betrayed by emotions she had spent years trying to suppress, couldn't help but worry.
That dark cell reminded her far too much of a past she had fled from.
Years ago, in the most miserable depths of Slugterra, existed Scum Cavern. Under the absolute rule of a sadistic criminal named Viggo Dare, the law of the jungle wasn't an abstract concept; it was a daily death sentence.
Citizens were forced to work in the mines until their lungs bled from inhaling rock dust, all in exchange for a measly piece of stale bread.
But the physical exhaustion wasn't the worst part of Scum Cavern. Viggo's gang looted and destroyed without facing a single consequence. And if you had the misfortune of being an orphan and born female in that hellhole... abuse wasn't a possibility, it was a certainty lurking in the shadows.
Valentina was just an innocent little girl when she lost her parents and was tossed into the darkness of the mines.
As she grew up, breathing stale air, her body began to develop into that of a young woman. That natural change drew predatory stares. Stares that soon turned into actions.
It was a silent hell. No one helped her. No one intervened. In Scum Cavern, looking the other way was the only way to survive.
The thought of taking her own life crossed her mind more than once, a tempting whisper promising an escape from the pain. But Valentina's survival instinct was stronger.
She decided that if beauty and vulnerability attracted monsters, she would cease to be human in their eyes. She would make herself repulsive.
She stopped bathing. She let machine grease, mud, and garbage seep into her skin and clothes. Her hair became a tangled rat's nest. The stench she gave off was unbearable.
It was a disgusting defense mechanism, but incredibly effective. The assaults stopped. Viggo's bandits went from looking at her with lust to looking at her with pure disgust, steering clear of her as if she carried the plague.
Hidden behind that thick, foul-smelling "garbage armor," her brilliant mind was finally able to flourish in peace. Valentina went from being a simple mine slave to infiltrating the mine's technical administration.
She taught herself technology, software, and heavy machinery programming. She made herself valuable. She became too smart to be ignored.
Viggo Dare himself recruited her into his inner circle to run the systems. Even though the physical abuse had stopped, the psychological oppression kept her a prisoner.
Until fate finally intervened. A young, ambitious Thaddius Blakk arrived at Scum Cavern, challenged Viggo to a duel for control of the territory, and won.
Blakk gathered the useful survivors and offered them a deal: swear absolute loyalty to him, or rot in exile with the former dictator.
Valentina chose Blakk without a second thought. Even though the Doctor was a cold and cruel man to his enemies, he had very strict boundaries. His vision of "order" had zero tolerance for savage anarchy: no rapes, no child abuse within his ranks. To Valentina, Thaddius Blakk wasn't a villain; he was her personal savior. And she swore unwavering loyalty to him.
Over time, her gifted mind turned her into the technological pillar of his empire. She designed the logistical algorithms for the Slug-Metro train route. She created the security network and the encrypted communication devices the commanders relied on daily.
But even though Valentina had made it out of hell, hell never quite made it out of her.
The trauma was deeply rooted in her psyche. Even when Blakk Industries solidified into a powerhouse and she became the feared Intelligence Commander, her old survival habits didn't just vanish.
Her office was a pigsty. She lived surrounded by trash, dirty mugs, and half-eaten food. In the eyes of everyone at the base, she was an unattractive, unkempt, and "zero percent feminine" woman. Untouchable.
She lived in complete isolation, never letting anyone get close enough to be called a friend.
Until one day, the doors to her office swung open, and a pink-haired young man crossed the threshold.
Valentina smiled softly in the present, tracing the outline of Alex's face on the monitor with her fingertip.
She remembered that day perfectly. Alex had walked into her garbage sanctuary. She saw the clear, unmistakable disgust on his face as he looked at the wrappers littered across the floor. However... he didn't run away. He didn't look at her like a freak or treat her with the cautious, walking-on-eggshells distance everyone else used.
Instead, minutes later, they both ended up rolling around on the floor, wrestling, throwing insults, and putting each other in chokeholds over the very last slice of pizza.
That day, amidst the yelling and shoving, Valentina met her first real friend. An arrogant, sarcastic guy who completely ignored every single one of her massive psychological red flags.
Someone who didn't pity her, who wasn't afraid of her, and who treated her—for the first time in her life—like a normal person.
That normalcy had been the antidote to her poison.
Though she initially found Alex unbearable and infuriating, the genuine attention he gave her started melting her ice walls. Without realizing how or when it happened, Valentina began to change.
She started picking up the wrappers. She organized her desk. She began caring about her appearance—not to attract stares, but because the simple thought of Alex feeling disgusted when he walked into her office now actually hurt her. She started wearing a soft vanilla perfume. She wanted to look prettier... for him.
Valentina rested her chin in the palm of her hand, sighing in the quiet solitude of her now-spotless office. She wasn't stupid; she was the Intelligence Commander.
She knew exactly how to interpret data. And the data from her own heart clearly indicated that, over these past few months, she was falling hopelessly in love with that pink-haired idiot.
On the screen, Alex sat up on his cell cot and looked directly into the security camera lens, flashing an arrogant smirk, almost as if he knew she was watching him.
"You better make it out of there in one piece, 'A'," Valentina whispered to the screen, her heart beating just a little faster. "Because if you get yourself killed in there, I'll go down there and revive you myself just to kill you all over again."
A couple of hours had passed since the heavy titanium doors closed behind him.
For a hyperactive strategist like Alex, static confinement was sheer torture. The max-security prison was a depressing joint: it smelled of dampness, rust, and hopelessness.
The only constant sound was the dripping of a distant pipe and the echoing footsteps of the guards doing their rounds.
The boredom was killing him faster than any cavern mercenary could.
Determined to kill some time (and while he was at it, test the patience and response times of the wardens), Alex walked up to the door. He gripped the cold bars with both hands and pressed his cheek against the metal.
"Yoo-hoo! Mr. Guard!" Alex yelled, dragging out the words in an insufferable, sing-song tone that echoed throughout the entire cell block. "My throat's parched! Couldn't you fetch me an ice-cold Coke, or something decent to drink? The room service in this joint is absolute garbage!"
In record time, Alex had successfully earned the title of "the most insufferable prisoner on the block." He wouldn't stop complaining, whistling, or demanding absurd amenities that no one in Slugterra even understood.
"Could you shut up for fifteen damn minutes?!"
The voice didn't come from a guard. It was a raspy, high-pitched voice loaded with an almost neurotic irritation, echoing from the darkness exactly three cells down from where Alex was.
Alex dropped his act immediately. His eyes gleamed in the dim light. He took his hands off the bars and casually leaned back against the damp stone wall, crossing his arms.
"Well, well, so there is someone else here," Alex replied, projecting his voice toward his mysterious neighbor's cell. "Glad I'm not the only one. I was starting to go crazy talking to the wall."
"Shut up! You are incredibly loud. Do you ever stop talking?" the young man complained again from his confinement, sounding like he was about to tear his own hair out from the stress.
"I get that sometimes," Alex conceded, a genuine, arrogant chuckle escaping his lips. "It's part of my natural charm. But you really should look on the bright side of my motivational pep talk, buddy."
"What is so good about this damn situation?!" the young man's voice now sounded on the verge of absolute despair, echoing against the cold stone walls.
Alex pushed off the wall. He walked slowly back to the front bars of his cell, rested his hands on the metal, and widened his predatory smirk in the darkness. He knew exactly who he was talking to.
"That you just had the immense stroke of luck to meet the guy who's going to bust you out of here."