A/N: Guys, please express your opinions and let me feel your presence(Ahem, what dirty thoughts are you thinking). Also don't skip the trivia and author's note at the end, as it will most likely improve your reading experience.
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Ishtar's eyes fluttered open in annoyance. And just when she was getting adjusted to her brusque wakening, the cell's steel bars rattled open.
"Hey! Princess! Get set in five minutes and proceed to the assembly hall!"
It was the Orc warden of the day before.
She stood up from the bed, and picked up the dress, tearing a piece of cloth out of it. The fabric had long turned rough and tattered, a shadow of it's original form.
It felt rough against her fingers, a stark contrast to the silks and satins she was accustomed to. The musty smell of the cell filled her nose, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of disgust.
She heard as the Orc repeated the same words to the others and left, and the rustling of fabric followed as the other inmates began to stir in their cells.
"By Bastet's scruff! Keep your voice down will ya?!" She recognized the voice to be that of the one-eyed Lionfolk.
As she walked over to the sink, she couldn't help but take notice of the dreary state of her cell. The hercunium-lined walls were dull and gray, the shine long worn away.
The floor was made of cold, hard metal, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat and despair.
Walking to the sink, she opened the rusting tap and placed the cloth under the running water, wetting it. The water was cool against her skin, but it smelled of rust and had a metallic taste. Ishtar couldn't help but think of the luxurious bathrooms she had at the palace, with their marble floors and scented soaps.
As she proceeded to wipe her body with the piece of cloth, she mused at the speed with which she adapted to prison life. Just a week ago, she'd been bathing in bubbles, and here she was, helpless at the state of her being.
They were obviously left to fend for themselves. Their cleanliness was no one's business.
After wiping her body, she emerged from the cell, and was smacked on the shoulder as soon as she stepped out.
"Morning Princess! Sleep good?"
She kept walking and gave a faint 'mhm', needing no glances behind her to identify the owner of the voice.
The Lionfolk walked to her side, and lumbered along as they joined the others and walked to the hall, the place where they received the large number of gazes the day before.
If Ishtar judged correctly, she was 2 metres in height, overwhelmingly tall for a Feline.
The Feline raised her hand to smack her shoulder again, but withdrew it under Ishtar's stern gaze, and scratched her cheeks in annoyance, faint imprints of her long nails outlining themselves on her bronze skin.
"Why so stiff?"She murmured in visible frustration.
"I believe we're not familiar with each other."
The Lionfolk smacked her forehead in mock formality, as though she had forgotten.
"Oh, Dear me! Name's Sabrina. Yours?"
"Ishtar."
"There we go. We familiar yet?"
Ishtar frowned and picking the pace, ignoring Sabrina. Anyone else in her shoes would be suspicious at an overly enthusiastic stranger.
The distance to the hall was short, but the air was dry and thin, making it hard to breathe. Ishtar could feel sweat trailing down her back as they walked, and she knew that the heat of the day was only just beginning.
They stepped into the hall, and just like the day before, were the recipients of a multitude of scrutinizing gazes.
The Orc warden was waiting for them at the entrance and waved them over, his voice wouldn't be heard as the noise of the hall was overwhelming, with the sound of chatter, clanking of utensils, and the smell of food cooking.
Ishtar's stomach rumbled at the thought of food.
Grrr~!
A louder rumble came from Sabrina beside her, and the Lionfolk shamelessly sniffed the air, irregardless of the stares, carrying a wide grin.
It made Ishtar wonder what memories caused her silence the day before.
"Tsk. Uncivilized beast."
Sabrina ignored the arrogant Kalui's blatant insult and turned to the Orc Warden, the question "Where's our food?" written on her face.
The assembly hall was a large, open space with rows of benches lining the walls. The prisoners were already seated, and the new inmates were directed to a section at the back of the hall.
The air was thick with the smell of body odor and the sound of shuffling feet and hushed whispers.
The wardens were stationed at the front of the hall, armed and alert. They were a diverse group, made up of different races and species, all united in ensuring maximum order in the hall.
The grey-skinned Orc, towering at a height that rivalled Sabrina, led them to the end of the hall, where a nutrient-solution dispensing machine had been fixed.
When they reached the end of the hall, the Orc warden pressed a button, and the dispensing machine started running, albeit with a few sputters here and there. After switching it off, he presented the nutrient solution to them in disposable cups.
For the first few moments everyone–except Sabrina–was seemingly confused, as they expected to be served food.
The Kalui frowned, with a face of "How dare you?"
Ishtar took hers and saw as it sloshed around in the cup. It was watery and had particles of unknown origins floating around inside, this solution was most likely nearing it's expiration date.
She raised it to her nose and quickly withdrew it. The smell of rot was overwhelming, making her stomach turn.
Even the state of the machine increased her reluctance, as it was dust-covered and rusty.
While all the inmates held dissatisfied expressions. Sabrina, merely gave it a cursory glance, threw her head back, and took it in one gulp, slamming the cup back on the dispensary machine, and crumpling it as it was, well—disposable.
"Ah. That hits the spot," She smacked her lips together, "Tastes fishy, what flavour is this?"
Everyone:"..."
What flavour?! This stuff is expired!
At this point, the Kalui's face was deformed out of anger, and he stepped out arrogantly, with his silver hair disheveled and his formerly rich-blue skin taking a pale hue. The ink-blue tattoos peeking out of his prisoner overalls indicated his Noble origins.
With a sneer, he opened his mouth,"What form of low-quality nutrient-solution are you presenting before me?!! Do you kno-!"
Smack-!
The Orc warden, didn't allow him to finish his statement, as with a swift movement, he had already backhanded the Kalui, sending him crashing to the ground.
He went down with force, holding his bruised face in disbelief and horror, too surprised at the fact that an Orc dared to touch a Kalui.
The warden knelt down to his face level, and grabbed his chin in a vice-like grip, with a sinister grin plastered on his grey face, the two oversized tusks making him look even more ferocious.
"Listen here Inmate #12-A459. In this penal colony, you're just a prisoner, nothing more, so—"
Bang-!
The Orc's large hand slammed the inmate's head into the ground.
"—your racial or family status is essentially non-existent. Keep that in your fragile skull."
His voice wasn't loud, but it was audible in the large hall, and the ruse had obviously caught the interest of everyone.
The other newbie inmates looked on in shock, not daring to intervene. But there was no show of surprise among the regular inmates or other wardens, as though it was an everyday event.
"Pfft-Hahahaha!!"
With Sabrina being the first, numerous peals of laughter erupted in the hall.
The Orc got up with a refreshing smile, and his gaze swept over the rest of the new inmates.
"Any more complaints?"
Virtually everyone shrank back in fear, but one person stepped out. Ishtar.
"Hmm?"
She looked at his name-tag.
"I have a question. Warden Grondar."
He sneered, but it was obvious that his sour mood had lessened to some degree.
"Oh? And what may it be?"
The rest may have been surprised at the subtle change in the warden's attitude, but Ishtar wasn't.
Calling him by his title, she had acknowledged his authority, and acquiesced to her status as the lower person on the pedestal of their conversation.
The illusion of control had made him subconsciously let his guard down.
She motioned to the other end of the hall that was clearly a cafeteria where the regular inmates were obviously being served edible, truly nutritious food, and asked what conditions she had to fulfill to join them.
"Why is it that the regular inmates are being served edible food, while we, the new inmates, are being served this expired and clearly inedible nutrient solution?"
Grondar's expression hardened, and he took a step closer to Ishtar, towering over her.
"Because, Princess," he said, emphasizing the title with contempt, "you are the lowest of the low in this colony. You are the new inmates, the ones who have yet to prove their worth and earn the privilege of better food and living conditions. Now, drink your nutrient solution and be grateful for what you have."
His emphasis on 'Princess' was no doubt mockery.
Ishtar's expression remained neutral, not falling for his provocation. It would no doubt do more harm than good if she received more attention than she currently had.
As she raised the cup to her mouth, a single word, forbearance, was chanted in her head in a loop, like a mantra.
Her hand went up to pinch her nose, and the disgusting solution went down in one gulp.
Words couldn't describe the taste, and it nearly had her bending over to puke, what had Sabrina gone through to be able to swallow it like it was some regular fluid?
Warden Grondar watched in curiosity. But still, there was no change in her expression. Ice Princess indeed, at least she didn't whine like a certain vainglorious Noble, as for Sabrina, he had no comments, she was the Captain's problem.
The unusually short Namekian beside Ishtar followed suit, and it went down his throat. His brave facade was broken by the frantic trembling of his antenna.
And at the sight, everyone else resigned themselves to their fate, and swallowed it too.
Blergh-!
Except for a few who vomited, and the Noble Kalui still on the ground trembling in indignation, everyone else followed the Warden outside.
The sun was already above, glaring down at them and making the stuffy overalls even more uncomfortable. And bizarrely, it was just a few minutes before four in the morning.
This was one of X-542's absurdities.
Three Felines, including Sabrina—who didn't strike as a religious person—stopped for a moment, and bowed to the sun, murmuring under their breaths.
Ishtar who walked without stopping, vaguely heard "Bless the Eye of Ra" among other chants, and thought, what use was praying to the Pantheon? Would Sekhmet and Bastet save them?
As they moved to another building that seemed like a mix between a watchtower and a warehouse, Ishtar channeled her senses to the extreme, knowing that understanding the layout of the entire complex would be crucial for any plan she later made.
The watchtower-warehouse had a tall structure, rising like a sentinel with windows that offered a view of the area. Inside, the Orc warden went straight to a large, black chest that resembled a cheaper version of the Space-3Z3 Chest, a dimensionally expanded storage.
He entered a code into the latch, and with a bang, the chest opened, revealing rows upon rows of pickaxes.
He also opened a smaller compartment of the chest and what was inside was storage bracelets, but these were different from the normal ones as they were bronze, a colour gained as they were tweaked and modified to detect and automatically store ores.
The Orc handed out the pickaxes to each of the prisoners, and Ishtar noticed that there was a mix of old, worn-out pickaxes and new, shiny ones. She selected a new pickaxe from the pile, noticing how rough and unbalanced it felt in her hand.
These individuals were truly devious.
As the prisoners waited in the scorching heat for their next set of instructions, Ishtar took the opportunity to observe the other inmates. There were Namekians, Felines, Wolfkins, Humans, and other races she couldn't identify. Most of them were big and burly, with muscles rippling under their overalls, clearly having done physical labor for a long time.
Some of them had scars on their faces, evidence of past fights and violence. Others seemed to be lost in their own thoughts, defeated and resigned to their fate. A few glanced over at her and the other new inmates, their expressions hard and unreadable.
The ones who stood out were the Kalui who was still biting his lips and murmuring vows of revenge in the name of Seth, Apophis and other evil gods, Sabrina, who was scrutinizing her pickaxe, and the dwarf-Namekian, his green skin nearly had her mistaking him for a Goblin at first.
As they waited, a loud beep echoed throughout the compound, and the gates of the complex swung open, revealing a large group of prisoners exiting the assembly hall. They were holding pickaxes of various shapes and sizes, some with modifications that Ishtar couldn't discern.
The Orc warden quickly distributed the bronze storage bracelets to each of the prisoners, explaining their importance. His voice strained over the din of the approaching noisy procession.
"Remember! You'll receive Credits proportional to the amount of ores you mine! And these Credits are your everything! Without it, you won't get food, shelter, or even a replacement when your equipment is faulty! Are we clear?!"
There was a reluctant murmur of affirmation from the prisoners, and Ishtar noticed that most of them looked resigned to their fate.
One of the inmates, a wiry, scrappy-looking Wolfkin, spoke up. "So it's a currency?"
The Orc's face turned grim, and his voice dropped low, but with the application of Mana, it was was still audible amidst the noisy procession.
This was his first and most likely last show of sincerity.
"Soon enough, you'll understand that Credits are your LIFE in this hellhole."
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Trivia:
Mana, is a metaphysical energy that—according to ancient records—is said to be gifted by Pantheon—the gods—after the Chaos Era. It's said to diffuse through the entire Andromeda's Galaxy directly from the Spiral of Ennead, a blackhole existing in the centre of the galaxy.
Not all beings are given the priviledge to manipulate Mana, but those who do, and finally form their Mana core are called Transcendents. There are ten steps to elevating your state of existence as a Transcendent, and the first nine steps are called 1st-9th rank, while the last and highest step is called Zenith, the peak of Transcedency. The presence of Mana also caused the manifestation of a supernatural characteristic unique to each race. These Characteristics are called Traits.