Clang! Clang!
Hitting metal against stone constantly reverberated in the dark capacious cavern. As slaves in ragged clothing share the scantily spread light to aid their sight, searching on the rubble they made.
Zyro put his rusty old pickaxe over his shoulder as he wiped the sweat on his forehead. Panting and gasping for air - that was far from pleasant, filled with a stench of sweat. Even the clothes he wore smelled like accumulated poison.
The mine enclosed temperature added to the hardship, he always feels like being wrapped in multiple layer blankets. Causing sweat to constantly drip.
But comfort was the least of his worries.
After hours of digging and searching in the rubble.
'Finally.' He rejoice.
Under the torches dim light. He picked up a piece of red stone.
It's the size of pebble colored in red with a smooth and lustrous surface that makes it look like a rare precious stone. However, unlike ruby, it doesn't have a transparent body, but metallic and hard.
Due to the unbreakable language barrier and unfriendliness of the humanoid aliens around that look more human than him. Asking for guidance was a waste of breath. Fortunately, his not a reliant person and can learn by observation. Judging the slaves work, it's obviously mining for minerals but not for iron and gold or any other known minerals. But a strange red metal he doesn't have any recollection of.
Zyro didn't actually know what it is or what it's used for. But noticing every miners search and pocketed these things, he guesses that it may be their prof of work contribution.
"Grumble..." His hunger protested.
Ignoring his stomach shout of hunger, Zyro lifted his sore arm and continued mining.
Thinking about the explosion that killed the old slave to keep exhaustion at bay. His been wondering about the cause as it may endanger his life, and hope to avoid it early. Considering the surrounding people's reaction as if it were a normal occurrence made him more wary. Zyro has analyzed the surroundings and didn't encounter any possible explosives like dynamites. And upon recalling the earlier explosion itself. He realized that there was no fire involved, just shockwaves and sound. His no stranger to sonic bombs but such bombs cannot release a powerful shockwave enough to send someone flying to death. Let alone, in this ancient world era.
After hours of contemplating in vain while working, he noticed the slaves leaving. Zyro stops and looks at his dirty palm, where 5 red pebbles lay.
Feeling his hunger becoming unbearable, Zyro followed the departing slaves in hope for food. He has not eaten anything since arriving in this world.
Following the backs of his peers through the maze of cave tunnels with the aid of warm lights clinging in the wall. He can't help but feel a sense of pity and dread. Seeing their malnourished and frail bodies with tired eyes. Yet, despite the hardship they face, smiles can still bloom in their faces.
Zyro sighed.
Unexpectedly feeling envy. But it didn't last long as he cut his daze and focused his mind on the last STELLAR mission, putting on a serious expression.
For him, living was of no more importance after losing everything. However, he'll at least try his best to complete the STELLAR one and only mission.
The question is. Is he even in the right place?
The STELLAR tracks the source of catalyst using state-of-the-art technology which he no longer has. And due to STELLAR being destroyed, scattering the grand vessel remains.
He survived, but God only knew where he got dumped to.
Although Zyro miraculously found a habitable planet full of aliens, it wasn't his goal.
Firstly, he has to find the specific source of the Catalyst which is somewhere in this solar system or elsewhere. Without any tracking device and low chances of luck dumping him in the target.
Secondly, he doesn't have anything but a battered exoskeleton armor and a drowned starship that cannot handle space expeditions. Its condition - probably broken.
And lastly, Catalyst is made of almost indestructible material. Even high grade weapons of destruction cannot scratch the damned thing.
In summary, it's impossible.
It's like ordering an ant to kill a tiger. Added, the ant don't even know where the tiger is located in the wide jungle.
Feeling his eyes getting tired at staring at the slaves back. Zyro looked up, and saw an old wooden frame supporting the tunnel, illuminated by warm dim light. Then shifted his gaze sideways, following the source of light.
He blankly stares at the blinding torch ahead as he walks nearer.
Zyro frowned. And rubbed his eyes.
He just realized that these torches weren't fueled by normal means. Unlike regular torches that burn with gas, it's flame was powered by some unknown black stone.
'Argh, My head hurts'
He didn't even wanna think how this thing works anymore. After seeing bird men and all kinds of unearthly things that twisted the laws of physics he knew of. He won't even be surprised if pigs could fly.
Not bothering to stop, Zyro quietly walks forward. Soon seeing a door of light ahead, getting bigger and bigger. Its rays stretch forward, chasing the shadows at the opening side.
Zyro never liked the sun, but right now. It feels like his trapped in a world of darkness for so long, longing for his mother's warm embrace. And finally meeting her.
He felt blissful. Subconsciously a faint smile appeared on his as the warm rays of light scan his body as he walks forward. Steeping from darkness to light.
After a second, Zyro expression reversed. He halted and suppressed his urge to scream.
It didn't feel like a mothers warm embrace at all. More like being burned by highly concentrated lasers scanning his pale skin.
Zyro hastily back off into the shadows.
He had been frozen in hibernation for god knows how many years before arriving in this world. And being imprisoned under floating lands shadows before escaping into the night.
It was his first time directly experiencing the sun after so many years. Not used to it, made it feel like acid.
Zyro hesitated for a moment, watching his fellow slaves treating it like nothing.
'It's okay, I won't die, I won't die...'
Gritting his teeth, he charges. Constantly cursing internally while walking forward.
'Argh! F*CK!...'
With eyes closed as he resisted the sun's panging heat, Zyro slowly lifted his eye lids to adjust to the blinding light of the outside world.
At that moment, as though all pain was gone. What behold in front of him made him hold his breath.
In front of him, a grey wall of fog towered above the horizon. As if ashen clouds had fallen to create a colossal wall.
Zyro had seen a crude ring of fog surrounding the evergreen land below the root lifted island of Gricks during his early imprisonment. But seeing that ring up close was completely different.
Speechless for a moment, before being taken aback by the acidic pain endured by his poor skin.
Gritting his teeth, Zyro looked around and saw the nearest building far ahead. A wooden, third story mansion. Slaves line up near it in four. At the end of it, a covered, receptionist table stood. Offering a trade for food.
Zyro lined up in the shortest line and waited while cursing the sun in his mind. Although it felt like bathing in acid. It won't kill him. He glanced at his skin which had already turned red.
Without anything to do but wait in line, Zyro took the time to rest his mind.
However, as time passes. He can't help but notice the unnatural number of glances being thrown at him. As though a quality of his was drawing them - slave and guard, men or women.
Zyro sighed.
'Of course they'll notice'
Everyone he encountered since arriving in this world. The Gricks and the Mine slaves and guards have colored hair and eyes. Only he, Zyro of Earth possesses jet-black hair and eyes.
Which is a bad thing.
Zyro turned his head up, and saw the Gricks floating land in the sky afar. The colossal roots lifting the island seems small, but Zyro was not fooled. As someone who's been there, and escaped.
Although, Zyro didn't know what crime he committed to be imprisoned. That doesn't change the fact that he ran away and now a wanted criminal.
The Gricks will hunt him wherever he goes.
But Zyro was already prepared. Back then, when his armor died, becoming nothing but a burden. Zyro persisted, carrying its weight until the end. Hence, the Gricks knew him as a mischievous black knight. But oblivious to what's behind that dark armor.
'I hope this works.' he thought, grinning.