The night brought no rest.
It only brought less noise.
Ryuji sat against the cold wall, his arms resting on his knees, eyes lost in the darkness of the mine. Around him, figures slept or pretended to sleep, curled up in exhaustion and resignation. Breaths came unevenly, some deep, others ragged, as if each exhale was a struggle.
His body still ached. Every breath pulled at his ribs, every movement reminded him of the dungeon.
But that wasn't what occupied his mind.
His eyes moved slowly, scanning every face in the dim light. Watching. Analyzing.
Who is still watching the guards? Who lowers their eyes? Who grits their teeth?
— "Are you planning to stare at people until they rebel?"
Aeryn. Leaning against the wall, in the shadows, as if she had always been there. Fatigue hadn't touched her yet, or she hid it well.
— "No."
A pause.
— "I'm looking at those who haven't given up yet."
— "And you think there are many?"
— "No… but I don't need many."
Aeryn let out a slight sigh, a sound betraying both weariness and worry.
— "Then do it right."
---
The next day, work resumed. As always. The sound of picks striking rock, chains scraping, shouted orders. The slaves moved like shadows, slow, resigned.
But today… Ryuji moved differently. He worked, yes, but he spoke. Quietly. Like a whisper in the wind, careful not to draw the guards' attention.
---
Three slaves, exhausted and silent, dug side by side. Their skin was covered in dust and sweat, their hands marked by chains that had bound them for months.
— "Are you planning to die here?" Ryuji asked, his voice low but firm.
Silence. The only sound was the scrape of pick against stone.
— "Shut up," one of them replied, head down, eyes avoiding his.
— "Interesting response."
— "We have no choice."
— "Yes, you do."
— "…and what? Attack the guards with this?"
— "No… we choose when to die."
Silence.
— "…you're insane."
— "Maybe."
They exchanged fleeting glances. No words would cross that invisible barrier built by months of fear and resignation.
— "We can't… no one survives here."
— "We've already tried… and no one came back."
Ryuji lowered his head. His words felt powerless against this rooted fear.
---
A young man, thin and nervous, darted glances everywhere, shoulders trembling. Every sound, every clink of chain made him flinch.
— "You're afraid."
— "What?! No—"
— "Of course you are."
— "…everyone is afraid."
— "Me too."
— "…then why are you still standing?"
— "Because I decided I'm not dying here."
— "…if I tell you we could escape…"
— "…no. You're crazy. No one would survive outside."
— "…I just want to get out."
— "You'd be the first to die."
The young man stepped back a few paces, shaking his head.
— "Sorry… I can't follow you."
Ryuji sighed. No hands would reach out. The little sparks of rebellion he had hoped for extinguished one by one.
---
Aeryn watched silently from afar, attentive but not intervening.
— "Some refuse."
— "Normal."
— "They're right… they'll die."
— "It's their choice."
A heavy silence fell. No gesture, no word, no hope.
---
Ryuji and Aeryn spoke quietly, eyes lost in the mine's darkness.
— "We tried… and they did nothing."
— "Fear is too strong here. We can't do anything as long as it stays like this."
As they exchanged words, a sound behind them made them turn.
A man approached. Tall, muscular, a scar marking his face. His piercing eyes cut through the darkness. His presence demanded respect and caution.
— "We've heard that two people were trying to recruit slaves to rebel."
Ryuji and Aeryn exchanged surprised glances.
— "And you are…?" Ryuji asked, hand instinctively tightening on his belt.
The man said nothing. He studied them for a moment, silent, before simply saying:
— "Follow me."
---
They followed him through narrow, dark tunnels, until they reached an unfamiliar place. Light filtered through small cracks in the ceiling, revealing a wide, natural space, almost a cavern.
At the center, a group of burly slaves stood, chains still visible on their wrists. All bore the marks of long years of oppression: scars, tense muscles, hardened gazes. The air was thick with tension, restrained fear, and determination.
In the middle, seated on a crude stone throne, an imposing man. Muscular, long hair falling over his shoulders, wrists adorned with broken chains. His gaze swept over Ryuji and Aeryn with an intensity that was unsettling.
— "My name is Roy, and these are my men. We are a group of rebels who want to bring down Marcellus."
Roy stood slowly, every movement deliberate, every muscle tensed. His men nodded, silent but threatening. The cavern seemed to hum under the weight of their presence.
— "You… are serious?" Aeryn asked, voice trembling but curious.
— "As serious as Marcellus is cruel," Roy replied, a rough, almost predatory smile stretching across his face.
---
Ryuji felt a mixture of fear and excitement. These rebels… they were an opportunity he had never imagined. For the first time in a long while, he felt he could do something.
And so, as they had just failed to recruit their first allies, a brutal and unexpected chance opened up before them.
Their eyes met those of Roy and his men, and for the first time, the prospect of fighting for freedom felt… real.