I haven’t been called a pup since I got shoved into my first fighting cage at three years old and it sends me feral. But the chains work well and I only get a groan out of the metal as they wheel me out. I get a good view of the pretty cast iron and gold gates of the prison-school. Even through my spit hood, I can see the gold glinting in the sun…until I’m wheeled around and get to see the pure carnival of fun that awaits me inside. The receiving bay at Animus Academy is part zoo, part jailhouse.
