The folk of Refuge Amun was very stoic. Maybe that characteristic was built after several generations going through Saphyr's Wastelands and suffering hellish times. So much struggle could only lead them to have such impressive emotional intelligence and resilience.
However, as said before, they still hadn't know fully how things worked in the new world that was born after the Crimson Apocalypse.
When someone can only think about Dreads as a real threat, they forget that other things can cause harm.
Dreads only were like that because of their natural greed for power and ambition to survive, but they weren't the only creatures having such feelings. By far, there was a being that had two times more greed and ambition than them, and this same being would do something that Dreads didn't do so often in the recent centuries: Kill the ones of the same race for power.
A lion mutate in a Dread could kill mutated horse, but rarely would be seen doing more than fighting another lion until they got exhausted.
Humans weren't like that.
Of course, it depends on each individual, but the most common thing to see out there those days was humans trying to take advantage over others.
After all, they were in an Apocalypse. Society had split long ago. Each refuge and group of survivors had their own interests and laws, let alone common sense.
Refuge Amun, unfortunately, experienced the terror of human beings before it could make even a decade of existence.
Paul, naturally, experienced it together with his folk.
He would never think that his life would change on that day while he walked off from his school, holding his heavy backpack packed with books. His shoes dirty with soil made an echo as he walked the streets of the refuge.
His folk would usually be very calm and quiet, their conversation never exceeded what was pleasing to the ears. Not even the sealers would do too much noise.
However, that silence that befell the refuge was strange enough to make a chill run down Paul's spine.
After a few steps, the boy even stopped to walk and looked around, not spotting anyone around him, nor hearing any sound instead of the other kinds also walking in the surroundings.
Disturbed, he wondered what was happening.
'Maybe it's just my imagination. I am too conscious of my surroundings after I nearly died, also because of the talk I had with my aunt about my father. The day brought too many things at once.'
He knew his emotional limits. It wasn't difficult to know when he was struggling against negative feelings.
The boy shook his head and decided to walk forth again. However, that tension in the air made his shoulders shrug again.
On his way home, Paul needed to pass by the principal plaza of the refuge. They had such a place particularly because of aesthetical reasons, but it ended up being suitable as a marketplace as well. It was usually quite busy at that time of the day.
His folk used to buy their goods at five o'clock in the afternoon. That was around the time when the sun disappeared and eighteen hours of the night would follow before they could see natural light again.
Naturally, it wasn't good to walk at night, particularly in the middle of it, so they bought everything they needed for that day before the sun was gone for so long.
Paul was kind of excited to get to the plaza as soon as possible. After all, he was getting annoyed by not seeing a single person walking on the streets.
Just as he thought, the central plaza was filled with people... but not in the way he expected at all.
All the adults of Refuge Amun were gathered in the main plaza. Everyone was kneeling on the ground, their hands placed on their necks.
Looking at them with severity was a group of people. They were standing on their feet and holding weapons.
The one that was in front of all those adults down on their knees was the leader of the city. He was the most ancient of Amun's folk and was trying for a couple of years to raise a Council to take care of the democratic matters of the refuge.
He was also kneeling on the ground, but bowing to those strangers as well.
'Those guys... aren't they from a nearby refuge? They were the ones driving the carriage that nearly killed me, weren't they?' Paul thought.
The boy approached them even more with cautious steps and dumbfounded eyes. His hands were trembling by anticipation.
He spotted his aunt in the middle of those adults. Nonetheless, it didn't make him relieved nor happy.
When their eyes locked, the blood drained from her face, she got utterly pale.
His aunt shook her head as if telling him to stop.
She didn't need to do that at all. Paul's legs stopped once he saw that, near the feet of those strangers, were a couple of corpses.
The corpses of almost all the Ascendants of their refuge.
Paul widened his eyes in disbelief, seeing his heroes and saviors spread on the ground, also as the wiser person of the refuge bowing in front of those guys.
From far away, Paul heard the ancient's pleading.
"P-Please, sir! Is there any other way in which we can--"
"No. An order is an order, old man. We aren't here to bargain anymore. If you won't cooperate by will, we shall force you. That's how it works. Or did you thought that our refuge would make all those things for free?"
"B-but, we offered money to you!" The leader got so exasperated that he raised his head to look at him.
The man walked slowly towards him, placing his feet on his head and forcing him to bow again, rubbing his forehead on the ground.
"We don't want money or supplies. We want a machine to make us money. We want profitable products. That is..." He glared at Paul, aware of his presence. He pointed to that defenseless boy. "We want people like him to make money for us. Do you understand?"