As he approached the entrance to the common barracks, he was intercepted by a guard, clearly displeased by his late arrival. Daniel meekly absorbed the scolding and explained.

"I fell ill. I was vomiting in the bathroom and couldn't get up."

"You should've notified us!" the guard exclaimed, raising his hand as if to strike, but then reconsidered and waved dismissively. "Just go already."

Daniel spotted Sennoy from the entrance and approached him, deliberately placing each step, attuned to his own breath, while keeping his focus on Sennoy's composed, unyielding expression. Completely engrossed in anticipating any signs of panic or fear on Sennoy's face, he was caught off guard when someone suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

"Let's go," Svetka hissed, giving him a shake. "Damn it, I knew Palka would blab! Let's roll, I said! No bullshit."

Daniel pulled his hand out, stepping forward with determination, but inwardly cursing. Svetka had drawn unnecessary attention to them; now Sennoy would be on alert and ready to dodge if he attacked. With Sennoy's instincts, he had to catch him only when he let his guard down completely - a split-second delay that would trigger alarm bells in Sennoy's mind and ruin everything. Svetka escorted him to the chow line, made him grab some food, and then led him to their table, seating Daniel next to him. Palka's anxious face, now washed clean of the dusty mask, hovered nearby for a moment before vanishing into the crowd.

"Listen up, Dashka, lay off," Svetka whispered, her tone pleading. "Sennoy will chew me out for not keeping an eye on Palka. Don't drag me into this mess, what did I ever do to you?"

Daniel remained sullenly silent, stirring a foul-smelling brew that reeked of fish. Encouraged by the lack of response, Svetka continued more calmly.

"Dashka, he felt bad about it afterward, told me he regretted it. Understand? Everyone screws up. And he's not harsh on you, he's stepped in for you twice, he cares. You'd be screwed anyway; don't think you'd last long. You got no connections, no protection, and yet you're a looker..." Svetka muttered, not forgetting about the food, but Daniel wasn't paying attention - the mention of Sennoy's supposed caring only fueled his rage further. "Cares, took pity." Daniel might regret it later. Or maybe he won't. It was almost a shame he wouldn't get to see Sennoy suck cocks squirming and choking for the next five and a half months.

He couldn't approach Sennoy as they lined up. It's ok, he'd wait until he got back to the barracks, but he wouldn't let Sennoy go into the house. His loyal crew might shield his downgrade from the rest of the block. They were all watching Sennoy closely. It was unfortunate that Vlad, Hasan, and Shamil were out of the disciplinary unit already. Without them, it would have been much easier to approach Sennoy. Andron, who hadn't been sent there, didn't count—he was weak and could easily be pushed aside.

Sennoy, who occasionally glanced around, sensed something amiss near their barracks. He turned, cutting off Vlad's humming mid-sentence, and asked softly, "Dashka, you look like you're gonna puke. You feeling sick?"

"Food poisoning," Daniel croaked.

"Damn, gotta get you some activated charcoal tabs. I got some stashed, I'll hook you up back at the house," Sennoy shrugged off, losing interest, then turned back to Vlad, continuing their conversation. "So, what was his deal?"

Daniel scrutinized the man's sinewy, robust back, noting his economical movements and the flexing of his well-defined muscles. He realized he would need to act swiftly to get him contacted. Increasing his pace, he felt frustrated by his own sluggishness, as if his energy had been sapped away. As he approached the others on the porch, he closed the usual gap he maintained, walking alongside them instead of trailing behind as he typically did.

He forced a smile at Sennoy, who regarded him warily before averting his gaze, retreating into himself, fixating on his boots. As they neared a quarter of the way down the barracks, then a third, then halfway, Daniel braced himself and leaped, aiming a punch at Sennoy's cheekbone. The punch seemed to move in slow motion, its trajectory clear. In the same slowed-down sequence, Daniel noticed Vlad staring at him, wide-eyed and bewildered, not yet comprehending. In a split second, Sennoy agilely evaded the blow, ducking between the rows. Daniel, incredulous at the failed attempt, swung his other arm, only to gasp as he received a sharp kick to his gut. The force propelled him backward against the iron bars of a nearby bunk, prompting the owner to recoil with a yelp. Despite the pain, Daniel struggled to regain his footing, ignoring the urge to breathe, and was met with another kick.

The frozen spectators snapped out of their shock, voices rising in a threatening tone, but Sennoy intervened, raising his hand to silence them, his anger palpable.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Dashka?!"

"What's wrong is you!" Daniel struggled to rise from the floor, but his bruised leg betrayed him. With a resigned sigh, he spat on the ground, conceding defeat. "It's you! You gave the order, you bastard! I hope you rot in hell, Sennoy! I hope you'll get downgraded!"

Sennoy, mid-kick, froze, his enraged expression turning to stone. His crew, ready to pound, hesitated, averting their gaze, while only the raucous, eager spectators clamored for more action.

"You son of a bitch!" Daniel rose, dragging his numb leg. "Cat got your tongue? Fine, then I'll talk! You've already been cont..." before he could finish, Sennoy struck him in the groin, sending waves of excruciating pain through his body. Daniel choked on a scream and crumpled to the ground, clutching his throbbing groin. But the fear evident in Sennoy's eyes pleased him, fueling his resolve - he'd still tell everyone that Sennoy had been contacted, that he'd groped him, kissed him in private. There was no way to shake off such accusations, no way to explain it away - everyone would believe it, as rumors had long circulated that Sennoy was too soft on his rooster. He just needed to endure this pain, to find his voice again. Another blow sent him reeling, his lungs collapsing as he let out a scream, followed by another blow.

Daniel was flung across the floor, battered, contorted, and pummeled until everything blurred into a quivering, bloody haze. Dimly, through the fog, he sensed his pants being sliced off and tossed aside, leaving him sprawled on the ground before the onlookers, but he couldn't resist; his energy had deserted him. And the searing agony between his legs - ripping, relentless, consuming - only intensified the fog, granting him temporary release from reality.

The pain surged to the forefront of consciousness - dense, oppressive, spreading throughout his body. Initially, it clenched his temples, eliciting a brief murmur, then, as his eyes reluctantly fluttered open, it cascaded downward. Daniel gazed despondently at the familiar light gray walls, inhaling the nauseating scent of carbolic and chlorine, the cheapest of disinfectants, and attempted to shift onto his side. The effort was met with harsh retribution - Daniel gasped at the searing sensation. Every part of his body throbbed so intensely that it seemed there wasn't a single healthy spot left. Yet, the pain was most acute below the waist, particularly unbearable there. Bringing his legs together was impossible, the sensation akin to a stake between them... Yes, Sennoy's message had been delivered crystal clear.

"You still kickin', huh?" Marina Lvovna wheezed out, breathing heavily. Daniel, lying awkwardly, glanced her way but avoided eye contact, staying quiet. There wasn't much point in responding. Yes, he was technically alive, but what for? He should've just died.

"Why you clamming up, honey?" she continued, pushing herself up from the table and shuffling over in her comfy felt slippers. She set something metallic on the nightstand before settling into a chair by his bed.

"Where's it hurtin'?"

"Everywhere," Daniel croaked, then added, "How long was I out?"

"For a real long time, three whole days," Marina said, pulling out a vape from her crinkly gray robe pocket. She took a big drag, enjoying it for a second before breaking into a fit of coughing, wheezing like an old engine trying to start. Daniel watched her with a blank expression, feeling a flush of irritation as she struggled to catch her breath. If she'd just drop a few pounds, maybe exercise a bit, and quit that damn smoking, she might have an easier time. But hey, nobody made sense around here anyway. You just had to take her as she was, a weird quirk of life.

She eagerly drew from the vape, finally breathed a bit easier, and kept talking, "I could give you some painkillers, got 'em all stocked up for you. Got some Relief too," she added with a wink, her eyes heavy with makeup. "Sennoy passed it on, but let's keep it between us, all right? Can't let nobody else know."

Daniel smirked bitterly: Sennoy had maimed him, and now he was quietly investing in his treatment, the deceitful bastard. Of course, how could he allow the other inmates to know that he cared about the damn rooster he had taught a lesson? His reputation would instantly crumble, no one would respect such a deceitful bastard, and he would never be able to shake off the stigma. Hatred and disgust surged through him, providing him with strength. Daniel pressed his uninjured hand against the firm mattress and rolled onto his side, grimacing at the discomfort. There was no point in declining the royal generosity - paracetamol would scarcely alleviate his current pain.

"Yes, please give me a shot."

Marina Lvovna pulled down his underpants slightly and grabbed a syringe and cotton swab with alcohol from the tray. Leaning in close, he caught a whiff of her stale body odor mixed with cheap perfume. Daniel shut his eyelids, sensing the cool touch of the cotton swab on his buttock followed by the burning sensation of the medicine. He let out a long exhale as the medication started to take effect, dulling the pain and lulling him back to sleep. Only the dryness in his mouth bothered him.

"Can I have a drink?"

"Sure, help yourself, Little Prince, you're not in a restaurant," Marina Lvovna nodded towards the bedside table.

Daniel strained to grab the glass of lukewarm water, his hand steady as he brought it to his lips and sipped cautiously. The water tasted like chemicals, making him feel queasy again, but he kept drinking. He doubted he had been given any glucose while he was out cold for three days. Dehydration would only make things worse, and he wasn't one for unnecessary suffering.

"I'll brew us some tea later, while I'm at it," Marina Lvovna said, placing a tube of Relief with napkins on the pillow. "I've got lemon and sugar, just what you need. Why'd you go after Sennoy, huh? Why'd you do something so stupid, Little Prince?"

"I had to," Daniel grumbled bitterly, squeezing out the thick yellow ointment onto his trembling fingers. He cautiously inserted a finger into the throbbing, inflamed opening between his buttocks, biting his lip as he did. The edges of his anus were swollen and tender, and the inside felt like a raw wound. Thank goodness he had been unconscious for three days; imagining what the hole had been like right after the "punishment" sent chills down his back. Daniel wiped his fingers, smeared with yellow ointment and blood, on a napkin and shuddered at the memory. But what disgusted him the most was what awaited him upon leaving the "hospital": having to act submissive, admitting guilt in front of the pakhan.

A fool, a total fool, blindly naive. He aimed for independence, picked the lesser of two evils, only to find himself in even deeper trouble. It dawned on him only now that his appeal wouldn't make a difference - the illusions shattered completely. All the hopes, all the waiting, all in vain. There's no justice, just a deafening sense of despair in this world.

"Foolish," Marina Lvovna reiterated, her curiosity palpable. "If Sennoy throws you into the gen pop, considering your appearance, it'll be worse for you. Don't you see?"

"I do," Daniel acknowledged, his gaze fixed on the twisted crevice in the drab wall. The crack oozed with layers of peeling paint, unveiling the grim, dark concrete beneath, mirroring the impenetrable and obtuse reality enveloping Daniel. Drowsiness weighed heavily on his mind, cloaking it in absorbent cotton, yet sleep eluded him - anxiety about the future gnawed at him restlessly.

"So, what happened?" Marina Lvovna leaned in, peering keenly into his impassive face. "Why did you lash out?"

"You had a phone for me," Daniel grumbled, shooting her an irritated glance, causing her jaw to drop in surprise, forming an "o" with her flabby lips. "I will make the call."

"Well, I'll be damned! Look at that!" Marina slapped her fat thighs in disbelief, still blinking in astonishment. "You outright declined."

"I was convinced, you see," Daniel gestured to his battered body with his hand, clearly displaying his "conviction". "Eyes wide open now. I couldn't care less about anything. Can I use the phone?"

"I'll charge it now," Marina Lvovna rose with some effort, shuffled to the table where her ugly cherry-colored bag sat, retrieved a black smartphone with a charger, and plugged it into the socket. "Well, don't keep me hanging, Little Prince, tell me what happened. I'm dying of curiosity. Come on, tell your old pal."

"Sennoy set it all up. He ordered to downgrade me so I would beg him for protection," Daniel replied dryly. "And I, the fool, thanked him for it."

"Ah," Marina Lvovna drawled out, not too interested, and Daniel felt a surge of anger: it seemed like everyone else knew, except him. Like he was living in some kind of Truman show. He wanted Sennoy dead, painfully and slowly, but that isn't going to happen.

"Well, happens all the time, honey. It ain't good for a shot caller to make a move on a pretty con, they'll accuse him of being a homo. But if you become a rooster and go to him for protection," Marina Lvovna rested her chin on her fist and let out a long sigh. "All the pretty ones end up like that, not the first time, won't be the last. You just got some bad luck with your looks, little Prince."

"I get it," Daniel muttered, feeling the weight of his own foolishness pressing down on him. He covered his face with his hand, the scent of Relief stinging his senses. A mixture of despair and regret bubbled up inside him, escaping in a half-moan, half-sob. He wished he had just given in to Alexander's demands from the start, rather than enduring this agonizing ordeal only to give in eventually anyway. But he supposed everyone had to pay the price for their own mistakes. Daniel wiped his eyes and took a deep breath, refusing to succumb to self-pity. He hadn't then, and he wouldn't now. Someday, this torment would come to an end. Everything does.

"Let's just have some tea," Marina Lvovna said, flicking on the electric kettle with a loud buzz. "I gotta go to the other wards soon, hand out meds. You just relax for now."

"Are there many sick folks?" Daniel asked quietly, trying to shift his focus.

"Nah, not too many. Just the usual TB patients, plus you, Razin, and Pavlov," Marina Lvovna replied, smirking as she sorted pills into the tray. "Surprised to see Pavlov here too, ain't ya?"

"Should I be?" Daniel made a face. Palka always managed to get into trouble, so why should he expect anything different? Roosters were always parading their bruises and injuries.

"Sennoy really gave him a serious beating," Marina Lvovna said, flipping the switch on the already boiling kettle, casting a foreboding silence over the room. "Ordered to only give him paracetamol. Did Pavlov tell you all?" She put tea into a ceramic teapot and drowned it with boiling water.

"Yeah," Daniel scoffed. "Can't believe Sennoy got all bent out of shape over his innocent mashka finding out what was happening. What did he expect? That I'd stay in the dark forever? Someone was bound to spill the beans eventually. He didn't give a damn about Palka; he clearly wanted to inflict pain. And us roosters aren't allowed to have our own wants, nope, wrong caste, not in this place."

Marina Lvovna approached him and placed the phone within his reach, wagging her finger.

"Only dial the saved number. And don't breathe a word to Sennoy about this, understand?" she cautioned.

"Got it," Daniel gazed longingly at the smartphone. He didn't want to make the call, but felt compelled to. He envisioned Alexander's arrogant, smug expression, which only fueled his frustration. It was a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. Tentatively, he traced his finger across the screen, illuminating a breathtaking tropical sunset. Mesmerized by the surreal image contrasting with the dreary surroundings, Daniel took a deep breath, summoned his resolve, and tapped the "contacts" icon. After a moment of hesitation, he dropped the phone onto the bed, but quickly regained his composure, picked it up, and composed a concise, definitive message, "I agree."

An hour later, the call came. The ring pierced the air, demanding attention, and Daniel startled, pulling back instinctively like a snake hesitant to strike. The phone continued to ring persistently, vibrating near the edge of the nightstand before ringing again with indignation. He knew he should answer - he had made the decision and reached out himself; it was time to face the consequences.

"Hello," Daniel muttered, pressing the phone to his ear and closing his eyes as if bracing himself for a plunge into the abyss.

"Danny?" Alexander's voice came through, listening intently to his breathing. "Hey. I received your message. So, have you made your decision?"

"Hey. Yes, I have," Daniel responded flatly.

"Something's happened, hasn't it?" Alexander's keen intuition cut through the silence, followed by a noisy exhale. "Damn... I was informed that you... that you went through some crap," he paused, his breath audibly rumbling over the phone. "Let's not dwell on that. I'll initiate the process for your release, and ensure your safety while it's underway. You'll be transferred solitary - I've been assured it's possible, but it'll take a day or two. It's not a quick process. Are you following me?"

"I'm all ears," Daniel responded, feeling the tense muscles gradually unwind. Being transferred into solitary sounded like the ideal solution.

"Can you tough it out for a couple of days?" Alexander's voice crackled over the line, a hint of discomfort evident in his tone.

"I can manage," Daniel replied with a wry grin. "I'm already holed up in the prison hospital, and they're keeping me here for a few days."

"In the hospital..." Alexander's voice faltered. "Are your injuries serious?"

"I'll survive," Daniel responded incredulously, wondering if Alexander truly grasped the gravity of his situation. Did he think Daniel was lounging at a five-star resort rather than enduring the harsh realities of prison life? He'd narrowly escaped death multiple times, and his body bore the scars to prove it.

"I see," Alexander replied, sounding uncertain. "I'll do my best to expedite the process, Danny. They've assured me that once you agree, they can arrange your release within two or three weeks. If you need any medication, just let me know, and they'll provide it. Feel free to request anything else you need, my people will make sure you get it."

"All right, thanks, I'll send a message," Daniel responded calmly. "I've got a splitting headache, Alexander, so if you don't mind, I'd like to get some rest."

"Sure, take care," Alexander seemed to hesitate, then decided against saying more. "Hope you feel better soon, Danny. It's a relief you changed your mind - being with me will be better than being stuck in prison."

"I'm sure it will," Daniel managed to utter, his voice strained with disgust and loathing - the emotions were so intense they were almost palpable. His head felt like it was about to burst open. "Bye."

"Talk soon," Alexander sighed before ending the call. Daniel let his hand with the phone fall to his side. Someday, life had to stop testing him, because it was becoming increasingly unbearable. Speaking calmly to his enemy, sensing his eagerness to harm him - it all felt suffocating like the weight of the world pressing down on him. Daniel clenched his nails into his palm, trying to steady his breathing. He needed to learn to control his emotions; otherwise, they would consume him eventually and things will spin out of control, just as they had with Sennoy. Hassan, Shamil, and Vlad were sure to kill him, and it wouldn't be quick. Before, the thought hadn't frightened him, but now, with rage no longer clouding his vision, fear crept in.

He must survive, he must. The worst is behind him, making the rest more manageable with each passing moment. Take it one day at a time, marking off each day on the calendar without dwelling on it, without weakening himself morally.