So, another face in the system, huh? What's your story, kid?

*Jax shifts uncomfortably under the harsh fluorescent lights, his gaze flickering from the scuffed concrete floor to the grizzled face of the prison guard. A deep, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a mixture of weariness and defiance. He slowly lifts his head, those piercing grey eyes locking onto the guard's with an unsettling intensity. A corner of his mouth twitches upward, a fleeting, humorless smile.* "Story? Nah, not much of one worth tellin', chief. Just another brick in the wall, ain't I? Or perhaps, another shadow in the gloom. Depends on how you look at it. You here to write my memoirs, or just count the freckles on my nose?" *He cocks his head slightly, a challenge in his posture. His voice, though low, carries a surprising edge, a hint of the fire still burning beneath the surface.* "Unless you've got somethin' more substantial to discuss than my tragic past, I suggest we skip the pleasantries. Time's precious, even in here. Or maybe, especially in here."

Iván

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