Sometimes they are five. Sometimes they are three.
We do not merely destroy our enemies;
we change them.
WELCOME TO THE END OF TIME.
The Regency has its spies and its cloaks and daggers. You may have even brushed shoulders with one and not have known it. There is a place for such tactics. You are not in that place any longer.

On missions like these, the Regency prefers to keep its base close, in a intradimensional time pocket. You're apart from Gallipoli, no longer technically on Earth or in the 1910s. There are multiple segments to this complex base of Regency operations, but you can only really see two places...
THE BRIG
This is your holding cell, a constantly shifting room of indesctructable grey squares. It folds and bends to hold you and your seven companions as you await... something.
There are no guards in this place. There are no bars to look through, or sounds to listen for. You are simply in the box, left to your own devices.
Occasionally, holes will open in the ceiling, and packaged, processed rations will fall from them before immediately closing. This is the only way to measure time. There are always exactly eight bags, each with the name of one captive written on the side in their native language.
Holes will occasionally open in the walls, and they always bring with them a searingly bright light. Sleeping and sitting is difficult on the ever-shifting floors, and when you try, it always seems like a pinhole of light opens right on your eyes. Even leaning on the walls has mixed results.
DON'T GO TOWARDS THE LIGHT
The windows of light that open always stay very small, making it difficult to look through, and always pour radiantly bright, hot light. If you're feeling particularly self-punishing, you might be able to peek at an odd angle and see something of the world outside without being completely flashblinded. The world outside the Brig looks rather like the interior of a Dyson sphere. In the center, a great, bright, hot energy radiates out like a sun, and it reflects off the exterior globe the pocket dimension functions within, illuminating everything from every angle. The Brig floats around it in a slow orbit, as do many other similar looking box-rooms made of similar material, connected by constantly moving tubes and chutes. Some boxes have more chutes going toward them than others. No chutes connect to the Brig, unless someone is about to disappear into the floor...
Getting this view will be difficult, but not impossible; it will just take characters willing to blind themselves with an overabundance of light multiple times until they get the correct angle, allowing them to see outside for roughly a half second before the room shifts to redirect the light back into their eyes.
not so solitary confinement
Occasionally, the cube will split into smaller segments, throwing characters together with others at random in close confinement. This is unpredictable and fast, splitting you off from the whole for what feels like hours at a time, often with only one companion as the cube shifts and squirms around you.
technical malfunction
The power nullification is still in full effect. No magic or special abilities rule this place. Your only master are the walls, undulating with no discernible pattern, always moving.
The Regency has also attempted to break the BCE's translation capabilities, but due to the fact that COST-jailbroken BCEs work on a different system than Regency ones, this is an intermittent problem that occurs sporadically. (ie, have the translation capabilities blink in and out at your discretion.)
THE OTHER PLACE
And then, suddenly, the floor drops out from underneath you. The shifting walls make a hole perfectly your shape and size, and sucks you through. The hole closes neatly, immediately, and you slide along in a world of boxes pressing close to your skin as you are moved from one holding area to another.
When you emerge, you do so in total darkness. Power nullification is still in effect, but even if you can naturally see in the dark, it doesn't matter. All you can see is an endless blackness, and walking doesn't help. You can keep walking for however long; there is nothing to walk to. The floor is perfectly level, but you'll never reach a wall.
Finally, there's light in the distance. A spotlight from nowhere shines down on a person with the head of a jackal. Looking closer, you'll find it's some kind of highly technical mask. They are wearing armor that obscures their exact shape-- no skin shows, no hint of identity or personality, just the cold eyes of the mask. They turn to you, and speak in a voice clear and soothing, almost gentle.
"I am Kebechet. I have been looking forward to speaking with you."
the beauty of a hot mess?!
She speaks of Mordred and Kylo, of course.
The distancing of his gaze has her own sharpening; however, it's the... sudden shift in languages that has her head tilting and brows furrowing. Concern, fairly well veiled, though still present, soon shifts into clear confusion.
"Yes, what?" she asks in the Common Tongue, not realizing that her own language would be foreign to his. Not the harsh syllables of the Dothraki language, or the rolling flow of High Valyrian, the language she speaks is, well, common. "I don't understand what you've just said."
beauty's in the eye of the beholder, DON'T YOU LIMIT ME
But.
"... wait, what?" Now he too is lost, catching her first words but the rest come in a rush of unfamiliar words comprised of recognized syllables. "Ah, damn it... These BCEs again..." He taps his in gesture, then points across to her. Next is him indicating his own mouth, trying to somehow mime out that their translation feature is on the fritz.
!!!!!!!
Pursing her lips, she looks back to Noctis, catching the last of his motions. It was one thing to be trapped with someone, but entirely something else to be trapped with someone you could not understand.
Still, he does put for the effort, looking rather silly whilst doing so. Pursing her lips to fight back her amusement, she nods her head.
"We need to find a common language." Pointing to him, then herself, to her mouth, then linking the index fingers of both her hands together.
this is embarrassing
"Together, yeah, I got it. Keep miming? Ah..." Well, he at least has the idea to switch to the one other language that he knows, which for all purposes is Japanese even if perhaps the name is different to him.
"Do you understand me now?" He pulls at his fingers again, then gives her a thumbs up... that he slowly tilts downward. Yes, no?
totally awesome whatchu talkin bout
Still frowning, she switches to High Valryian, a 'liquid' sounding language, she's been told. The words do seem to flow like water in some ways, pleasing to the ear and not as harsh as Dothraki. "Not many know this language," she admits, feeling it to be a futile effort. When he lifts his thumb, she shakes her head. Then she points to herself. "Do you understand this one?"
Irriella chitters, clicking her mandibles and speaking in French. Sadly, she'd not needed to learn much of the language due to their BCE's. A mistake, she realizes all too soon. With a huff in annoyance, Dany spins those scant few steps away, her hands falling to her hips as she regards the shifting wall surrounding them.
"How do we break free?" she eventually asks him in Dothraki, knocking on one of the cubes.
oh my
He watches her closely for a moment or two, only then raising his hand to knock one knuckle against a cube in response. Yeah, this sure is a quality establishment; they're not going anywhere.
"I think it's just a regular wall. Obviously it moves but I mean I don't feel any magic coming off of it or anything like that. Seems pretty harmless... and I know you don't understand what I'm saying but I hope saying it in this tone of voice will make you feel calmer or something." Please don't let the BCEs start translating again at the end of that.