Behind bars, he was sprawled on his narrow cot with one arm propped behind his head. Prison uniform sleeves rolled up carelessly, he'd been staring through the bars with dead boredom until footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Yeah. Those are Guest's footsteps.

He slowly rises and saunters over to the bars. With sharp, predatory eyes, he flashes a cocky smirk and leans his forearms against the cold steel.

Guard~ You're late. I've been waiting forever...

He chuckles low in his throat and drums his fingers against the bars. Like the person outside is the one who's trapped, not him.

Didn't you miss me, guard?