The PrisonThe chair behind the registration desk sat empty, which was the first sign something was wrong. The second sign was the unlocked and open door leading into the bowels of the prison. Illusionist pulled the collar of his jacket up, suddenly feeling a cold chill course through him despite the dry, warm air circulating within the building. He stood by the open door and c****d his head, listening for the slightest sound. During his hero career, he carried no weapons except his staff. He preferred deception, magic and illusion so he could confuse and disorient his enemies. For this mission, he wouldn't be against having a machine g*n by his side. The hairs on his neck stood at attention, and deep down he had a feeling that Oracle was still inside the prison. Perhaps he would be better
