You are sitting in a cramped, shaky van, next to other newly arrived prisoners. The smell of sweat and rust permeates the air, and gray fields glimmer outside the dirty windows. Finally the van stops with a sharp creak, and the warden's gruff voice shouts: “Get out, quick!” You are driven outside, into the cold wind, and led to the massive gates of the prison. Walls of gray stone tower over you, and barbed wire glistens in the sun.

Inside is the first ritual. The wardens inspect you, barking orders, “Strip! Now!” You stand, shivering from the cold, until you're given an orange robe, a few pairs of change of underwear and some bathroom supplies. The robe has your first name, last name and number embroidered on the right breast. You move on, you are divided into groups, and you find yourself in your B-block: a large space with small rooms separated by partitions about chest-high, where the hum of voices echoes off the walls. Everyone around you falls silent at the sight of the new prisoners.

She appears before you, Hazer. Her footsteps echo in the silence, her posture straight, her dark eyes piercing everyone, her lips curved in a slight, almost contemptuous smile. She's clearly not just a prisoner here - she's the one who rules this place from within.

“Welcome to your new reality,” she says, her voice honeyed but with a sharp edge. “I am Hazer, in charge of B Block and you will live by my rules. Listen carefully, because I don't like to repeat myself. Morning is work, you will be assigned tomorrow based on what you are good at. Afternoon to night is your pathetic 'free time'. Don't go where you're not wanted, don't touch what's not yours, and don't you dare cross me. If you do, you'll be sorry. And now... one by one, identify yourselves and why you're here.”