I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

As the flying cart soared through the air, Steele shifted in his seat, his gaze fixed on the horizon. After a moment of tense silence, he cleared his throat.

"Since we're... gonna be stuck together... in enemy territory," Steele drawled, his words measured and slow, "might be good... to know each other better."

Mazikeen's eyebrows shot up, her surprise evident. 'Well, well, the statue speaks,' she thought, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Oh?" Maze replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "And here I thought we'd just communicate through grunts and glares. How disappointing."

Steele's jaw tightened imperceptibly. 'This woman...' he thought, suppressing a sigh.

"Simple question... you married?"

Maze leaned back, crossing her arms. "Why, Steele, I didn't know you cared. Trying to gauge your chances?" She batted her eyelashes mockingly.

'As if,' Steele thought, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Just answer... the damn question," he muttered.

Maze's smirk widened. "No, I'm not married. Turns out, most men can't handle a woman who can outthink and outfight them. Shocking, I know."

'More like they can't stand your incessant yapping,' Steele mused internally.

"Your turn, big guy," Maze prodded. "Got a ball and chain waiting at home?"

"No," Steele replied curtly.

"Friends? Family? A pet rock, perhaps?"

"No... to all of the above."

Maze's eyes narrowed. "Why? Find people beneath you or something?"

For the first time, a ghost of a smile flickered across Steele's face. "For once... you got something right... about me."

'Arrogant bastard,' Maze thought, her irritation spiking.

"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine," she quipped. "Must be a real party at Casa de Steele."

"I manage," he replied dryly.

The cart hit a pocket of turbulence, jostling them. Maze gripped the side, while Steele remained unmoved.

"So," Maze continued, determined to crack his stoic facade, "what do you do for fun? Polish your gun collection? Brood in dark corners?"

'Anything that doesn't involve you,' Steele thought.

"I read," he said instead.

Maze snorted. "Let me guess, 'How to Be a Better Hardass' and 'Scowling 101'?"

"Classical literature... actually," Steele responded, his tone neutral.

'Great, he's pretentious too,' Maze thought, rolling her eyes.

"Fascinating," she drawled. "And here I thought your entire personality was 'grumpy cowboy with a badge'."

Steele's eyes narrowed slightly. "And you? What thrilling hobbies... occupy your time?"

'Besides being an insufferable pain in my ass,' he added mentally.

Maze grinned, all teeth. "Oh, you know, the usual. Kickboxing, knife throwing, outsmarting smug men who think they're God's gift to law enforcement."

'So, professional annoyance. Got it,' Steele mused.

"Charming," he muttered.

The silence stretched between them, filled only by the hum of the cart's engine.

"You know," Maze said suddenly, "for someone so tight-lipped, you sure picked a chatty profession."

Steele's eyebrow quirked. "Law enforcement... isn't about talking."

"No?" Maze challenged. "Then please, oh wise one, enlighten me. What is it about?"

"Justice," Steele replied simply.

Maze's laugh was sharp and bitter. "Justice? That's rich. And who decides what justice is, huh? You? The empire?"

'Here we go,' Steele thought, bracing himself for another tirade.

"The law... decides," he stated firmly.

"And who makes the law?" Maze pressed, leaning forward. "The powerful? The privileged? Where's the justice for those who can't afford it?"

Steele met her gaze steadily. "That's why... we're here. To uphold... the law. For everyone."

'Noble words from a lapdog,' Maze thought sarcastically.

"Right," she scoffed. "And I'm sure you've never bent a rule, never looked the other way when it suited you."

A muscle in Steele's jaw twitched. "We all... make choices."

"Some choices more than others, it seems," Maze muttered.

The tension in the cart was palpable, both of them bristling with unspoken accusations.

"You know," Steele said after a moment, his voice low, "everyone knows... about my magic. My phantom gaze."

Maze's eyebrow arched. "Fishing for compliments, Steele? Yes, we're all very impressed by your spooky eyes."

'As if I'd need validation from you,' Steele thought dryly.

"Since we're partners," he continued, ignoring her jab, "what's your... trick? Magic? No magic? Or just... running your mouth?"

Maze's eyes glinted dangerously. "Oh, Steele," she purred, her voice honey-sweet and razor-sharp, "you'll just have to wait and see who the weak link is."

'Probably the one who can't shut up for five seconds,' Steele mused internally.

'Let him stew on that,' Maze thought, suppressing a smirk. 'He has no idea what I'm capable of.'

The cart began to slow, descending towards a vast expanse of sand stretching as far as the eye could see. The harsh sun beat down mercilessly, creating shimmering heat mirages on the horizon.

"Looks like we've reached the drop zone," Maze observed, squinting against the glare.

Steele nodded, his hand instinctively moving to check his weapon. "Remember... we're on our own... from here on out."

Maze rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the reminder, Captain Obvious. I thought we were on a pleasure cruise."

As the cart touched down, kicking up a cloud of sand, both Steele and Maze tensed, their senses on high alert. The vastness of the desert stretched before them, holding untold dangers and secrets.

'Great,' Maze thought, eyeing the desolate landscape. 'Stuck in the middle of nowhere with Mr. Personality. This should be fun.'

'This woman will be the death of me,' Steele mused, his face impassive as he surveyed their surroundings. 'If the desert doesn't kill us first.'

As the cart touched down, kicking up a cloud of sand, both Steele and Maze tensed, their senses on high alert. The vastness of the desert stretched before them, holding untold dangers and secrets.

The other two carts landed nearby, and the six gatekeepers descended with an eerie grace. Despite the scorching heat, they seemed unaffected, their masks gleaming in the harsh sunlight.

One of the gatekeepers stepped forward, his voice muffled yet clear behind the ornate mask. "We proceed on foot from here. The drop-off zone isn't far, but we must be cautious. On the cart, our senses are dulled. We don't want to accidentally stumble into the prison itself - getting out would be... problematic."

Steele and Maze exchanged a skeptical glance.

'All-powerful my ass,' Maze thought, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. 'If these "mystical beings" can't even pinpoint the prison or guarantee an exit strategy, what good are they?'

Steele's thoughts mirrored hers. 'Some gatekeepers. Can't even find the damn gate.'

Nevertheless, with the carts now grounded, all eight began their trek across the dunes.