The day was slow and torturous. The boxes filled with screws and metal parts were heavy, and he had to carry them from one floor to another without breaks. The work was exhausting. Every morning he had to wake up without eating anything and work until sunset without resting even for a moment.
And the worst part… if he made even one mistake.
No — he didn't even want to think about that.
The pain in his ribs reminded him very clearly what happened to anyone who made a mistake.
"Hey… Mike."
He heard the voice and turned his head. He saw James's familiar figure beside him. He quickly glanced around to make sure no one had heard them, then he turned back sharply.
"Are you crazy? If they catch us calling each other by names, we're both dead."
In a world where slaves existed, they had no names — only numbers. Mike had given himself a name, but it was his secret, something he kept only for himself… until he met James.
James was an orphan who had come from the outside and ended up becoming a slave. He was the one who told Mike what the world outside was like and what it was like to be free. Over time, Mike began to trust him and shared his small secret.
"Don't worry, no one heard us,"
James said in a somewhat carefree tone.
"But how are you? Does it still hurt?"
"I'm better,"
Mike said, though he didn't believe it himself.
James's face suddenly changed into an expression Mike couldn't read.
"What is it?"
James quickly shifted back to his usual relaxed look.
"Mike… do you trust me?"
Mike looked confused.
"What do you mean?"
"If you trust me, meet me tomorrow in the bathrooms."
James grabbed a box full of screws and walked away quickly, just before a guard could notice they were talking.
Mike felt uneasy after that conversation. As he reached for a box to carry, a gunshot suddenly echoed through the room.
He flinched and froze for a moment.
But this was normal here.
He already knew — the old man with the broken arm was dead.
"Hey! Don't just stand there! Get back to work!" a guard shouted.
Almost automatically, Mike picked up the box and continued working.
<
That was his thought every single day.
And it was his greatest desire — after freedom.