The rusty pickaxe was lifted by #2203's slim hand as her stomach grumbled. Her position was frozen in time as she looked around with her brown eyes at the rock-filled mine where children of all ages, including herself, were being forced to mine. Every child nearby has a number fastened to their right arm with a metal shackle.

She asked herself as she quickly glanced behind her and noticed skyscrapers far behind them, illuminating the metropolis like a torch in a gloomy night, "2206, 2201, 20012, where is she?".

Her mind was filled with visions of a comfortable existence far inside the city, masking the pain of her forced labor and constant hunger. Tria! A woman's feeble voice tried to get through to her eardrums, but the visuals prevented it from reaching her mind. "#2203!" An adult voice tries to get through to her head, but the sense of grandeur is still too strong to get past it. Her grasp on the pick axe tightened as her thoughts returned to the world she was in, and then, suddenly, its tip crushed into the rock in front of her.

She felt a tugging sensation on her arm that broke the illusion. Her gaze shifts to her right, where the tugging is coming from, and she notices that a girl clutching her hand is roughly her age, around 14. The girl's number is marked "#2202," and when she looks to her left, she notices the blunt end of a baton coming toward her face before it suddenly becomes dark.

She awakens in what feels more like a prison than a room. A table with a single chair at it, bunk beds on one side, and a barred window behind the table. She held her head, the ringing from the blow still filling her ears, but she got off easier than the others. She was silent for a while as her eyes wandered around the room, then she exclaimed, "V-via?!?" She was in a panic, looking around frantically as if hoping she would appear as she looked the other way.

#2202 enters the room seconds after she speaks, with bruises on her face and arm. "I'm glad you're awake now, Tria," 2202 said, forcing her face to smile despite the pain coursing through her body. "What happened to you?!? Did you get in trouble because of me?!?" Tria sobs as she slams Via into a hug. Via hugs her back, her smile turning somber before returning to a smile as Tria looks at her.

"N-no, the guards let you go easily, i just..." "You just?" "Just protected you in our way back, they at in again... extorting the Execreds we work hard for", Via said. "So i do get you in trouble right?" "No, its nothing really, i just make a deal with them, give them some of mine instead" "What?!? You don't need to do that, i gonna repay you wait" Tria said as she searched for pockets in her rag clothing, interrupted mid-sentence by Via, who was holding her hands.

"No no, its really fine, its just a bit no need to worry about it" "Its my fault you need to pay them, lemme give you-" "I said its fine Tria, were friends right? don you trust me its fine? " Her eyes are on the verge of tearing up, but she maintains her smile. Tria may not be the brightest girl in the room, but she knows when to back down for the sake of other's feelings.

"ding ding, please proceed to the cafeteria for your usual dinner, make sure to bring Execred to get today's special," a voice said from the hallway speakers. People ranging in age from 12 to 18 rush out of their rooms, forming a crowd as they make their way to the cafeteria of this dreadful place.

As they entered, Via and Tria joined the crowd. Unlike the room where the children are kept, the cafeteria appears to be similar to those found in schools throughout the universe. Long tables with 5 chairs on each side, a counter at the end with robotic food servers. Some children are minding their own business, eating the nutrient paste served, while others eat acceptable dishes after placing four coins of some kind inside the robotic servant, while others extort others for it, and the guards don't care.

Meanwhile, in Aurora, far from the slave camp Tria and Via are in, a retired soldier is drinking his thoughts away at the pub. His chin has a beard, his right arm is prosthetic, and his left eye is covered by an eye patch.

Someone approaches him in such a lowlife pub, wearing a formal black suit, and sits beside him, raising his hand to order a drink for both of them. "You look like shit," the suited man said, laughing it off as he took a sip from his drink.

"That's the world for you, I mean for me, as you sit on your desk doing paper works, I risk my life there getting shot," he replies, laughing it off as the bartender handed them their drinks.

"So, when are you going to come back? The border dispute is getting tense, and they need the great "Link" of legend," the suited man said, "I think never, too old to fight. Do you mean the red regime and, them?"

"right, them." After Link finishes his glass, he grabs the other one and drinks from it as if he hadn't drunk in a long time. "Out of creds?" asked the suited man. "Yup, need to do some small gigs, but not big ones." link responds.

"I have a proposition for you, the legend Link." "I told you, no big ones" "this one, however, doesn't need many... frontline business" Link's eyebrows raised, then looks at him as he put the glass down "Speak" "Right, this one pays well, enough to repair your mess of a ship and buy you a safehouse on Beacon, we need you to have a successor, Link".

The man said, link is visibly confuse "I don't have any children, you know that" "I don't mean, a biological one. There's a slave camp far from here, founded by the crimson regime, but in truth, its a training house for obedient future soldiers, they buy children from wretched parents , mothers and fathers, put them there to work at there mines, which, doesn't make sense considering they don't sell the rocks they dig out" "I don't get you, all the reason for what they doing"

"Listen for a sec will you? Inside the slave camp have an inner economy, the Execred, obedient slaves and hardworking earn one, use it to buy more delightful dishes and toys inside the camp facility, those whos disloyal or lazy get proper... "education". They are free to take others Execred, given they aren't caught, its part of a system you see, guards are told to overlook some actions"

"Yeah... you lost me" "When they reach the age of 19, they are "freed," the obedient are taken to the army, the disobedient are returned to the streets, it's a food chain inside there designed to reward the strong and punish the weak, a perfect training ground for soldiers, those who happen to escape are hunted down and abducted, not back inside, but to brainwash and be a puppet for their skills."

"ohh, now I get it, you want me to, uhh, buy someone out?" "No, you idiot, I want you to keep an eye inside, list potential candidates to become infiltrators, and once he or she gets out, which will happen soon if they have the skills to do so, take them under your wing as a successor, a mercenary." "Yeah... about that" Link said as he stands up and put his drink to the counter, turning his back away from the man.

" I say I pass, not good of a mentor and plus.... I am a soldier, not a spy"

"You see Link, its all about the name. "the successor of the legend, Link" is easy to sell to the highest bidder." "Still, parenting isn't my thing" Link replies, making his way to the door

"Well that's too bad for you then, split the bills bartender" The suited man said as he stands up.

"You know how costly that drink is right?" He said, Link sight, with a hint of hostility, before speaking "You scoundrel, fine, I do it"