As the three moons slowly obscured the night sky, Tello remained wide awake. He observed the people who had abducted him Joey, and Rollin.

Rollin lay in a pool of his blood, while Joey slept peacefully, securely bound and tied.

They sped through the arid air of the wastelands. Ways in which he might escape raced through his head. At best, he could escape and leave Rollin and Joey behind.

Putting cowardly thoughts away Tello thought about life in such a harsh environment. "To think the scattered tribes of the wastelands must contend with these brutal savages. It's astounding they've endured for so long."

In the distance, lights gradually became brighter, casting eerie glows across the barren landscape. The sleds sped forward, drawn by the same automatons that had dispatched Rollin.

As they approached the source of the lights, Tello could hear echoes of metal hitting stone. Soon, a colossal excavation site came into view, bordered by an imposing structure.

Outside the structure were five men assembled. They awaited the arrival of the four sleds. The two parties swiftly converged.

"You folks are quite skilled at your trade," remarked one of the men who had emerged from the building.

Unmoved by the compliment, the marauding leader got right down to business. "We've captured three wanderers in the wastelands: an archer a seasoned fighter and a mage. I demand a 20% increase in our payment for these three."

She fixed a cold, unyielding stare upon the man, who chuckled before pausing. Seeing she wasn't looking to negotiate he ultimately agreed, handing over a pouch filled with what Tello presumed to be gold coins.

The men, unmistakably in control of the mining facility gestured to one of their workers who strode toward Rollin and Joey. Gripping their hair tightly, he dragged them, jolting them awake. Rollin realizing he was bound tightly, could only respond with an enraged, pain-filled roar.

Joey, too yelled in pain. Yanked by their hair they were hauled away. Meanwhile, Tello extended a cordial greeting to the men before willingly stepping out of the sled, following his companions.

With no further words exchanged, the seven marauders pivoted their sleds and vanished into the night.

Rollin and Joey endured a hair-pulling journey until the men who had bought them approached a collection of dilapidated, battered buildings.

The man dragging Rollin and Joey knocked on one of the building doors. After a brief pause, a tall, muscular man swung open the door.

The man picked up Joey and Rollin by their hair and grumbled. "We've got three more recruits for you."

Without ceremony, he tossed Rollin and Joey inside the building, while Tello watched, awaiting further instructions.

The men departed, striding back to the only well-furnished building they had passed. Rollin and Joey lay inside, their eyes straining to discern the features of the man who had opened the door.

Callously the man kicked dirt and dust into their eyes, then turned toward Tello.

"If you want to avoid kissing the ground like them follow my orders," he snarled, "do exactly as I say. Now, get inside!"

Tello complied without hesitation, stepping into the dimly lit interior.

Inside, were twelve other prisoners, shackled to beds. Some were sharing a single bed. Their collective gaze fixated on the trio of newcomers. Alongside them loomed three imposing figures, resembling the muscular man who had ushered Rollin and Joey.

"We only have eight beds, so you'll have to share," one of the three men grumbled. Before untying them another man secured metal chains around Rollin, Tello, and Joey cuffing their hands and feet.

The trio glanced around, choosing the nearest bed despite the annoyed expressions of the occupants. Rollin, still bloodied from his ordeal, was denied access to one bed, occupied by a weary individual who sprawled out to block him.

"Move along and lie down; your shift begins in three hours," the muscular man ordered. Suddenly, a barrage of insults rained down upon Rollin, who now stood as an obstacle to everyone's rest.

"You've got to be kidding me," Rollin thought. With calm determination, he approached the man blocking his way.

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"Find another bed; this one's mine!" The chained man asserted. There was only one other available bed. Rollin anticipated that the other man occupying it would also object similarly.

Ignoring the man's kicks, Rollin closed in on him, both of them nearly the same size.

"Didn't you hear me, you," the man began, but before he could finish his sentence. Rollin's strong hands clamped around his throat.

Panic flashed in the man's eyes as he struggled against Rollin's overwhelming strength.

The rest of the prisoners watched in sheer disbelief; they had never witnessed a newcomer display such an overbearing presence. The man who had taken them in produced a whip from his desk and viciously lashed it against Rollin.

The crack of the whip echoed in the air, mingling with the sickening sound of flesh tearing as blood spattered from Rollin's back.

"Release him! You're going to affect our bottom line!" the man bellowed. But Rollin remained resolute, his unyielding grip on the prisoner. His eyes were fixed, unblinking, as he choked the life out of the gasping man.

Suddenly, the three other men in charge of the prisoners lunged in, desperately attempting to pry Rollin's fingers from the unfortunate captive's throat. Amidst the chaos of screams and shouts from both guards and prisoners, one voice cut through the turmoil.

"Rollin, enough! He's not the one at fault here." Joey's voice pierced through the turmoil, reaching Rollin amidst the cascading shouts and screams. Slowly, Rollin seemed to register Joey's plea.

Rollin released his grip on the man's neck, leaving behind purple handprints. The victim's face was a ghastly blue and his bloodshot eyes were bulging like a goldfish out of water.

One of the guards seeing the condition of the man dragged him away, while the other three guards huddled together, debating their next course of action.

"We can't afford to kill him. Our employer paid a premium for these three," the muscular man stated emphatically. He approached Rollin, cautioning him that any future actions like that would result in losing one of his hands.

After that, the lights were extinguished, and everyone, except for the guard on watch duty, settled in for the night.

Rollin and Tello slumbered like logs, but Joey remained vigilant, one eye always open.

In what felt like a few minutes of peaceful rest, Rollin awoke to the beat of drums and the sudden illumination of the room.

"Damn it, this isn't a dream," Rollin muttered under his breath. Tello roused from his deep slumber, blinked away the remnants of his dream.

Joey on the other hand wasn't surprised by the abrupt intrusion of light and sound. He had observed one of the guards grab a drum and approach the light switch.

"Alright, rise and shine. Time to start working," one of the men declared, the groggy prisoners gradually stirred from their makeshift beds.

Rollin, Joey, and Tello mimicked their fellow captives, planting their chained feet onto the ground.

The guards approached, interlinking the prisoners' chained feet, creating a binding all 14 together. Subsequently, one of the guards opened the door, revealing the night sky.

The prisoner closest to the door stood and began walking, the chained group followed suit.

Guided by the dim light of the guard's lanterns, the chained line of men moved forward. As they stepped into the cold night, one of the guards stationed outdoors distributed pickaxes to each of the prisoners, the metal glinted faintly in the darkness.

The chained 14 continued their silent march through the inky blackness of night until they reached a colossal chasm, hundreds of meters wide. Echoes of steel striking stone grew deafening as they realized the grim reality: hundreds of chained individuals like themselves were toiling relentlessly in the heart of the chasm.

A serpentine road wrapped its way down into the abyss, and the group began their descent.

Along the way, they passed a weary group of sixteen prisoners ascending, two members being dragged by the party. Sweat and wrinkles of toil were etched onto their faces.

After a few minutes of descending, they arrived at a section of the mine unoccupied by any prisoners.

The lead guard halted, then turned to the group, barking, "Start working!"

With that command, the group began swinging their pickaxes at the unforgiving rockface. Rollin, Tello, and Joey remained uncertain about what they were meant to uncover but followed the others' lead.

The unyielding stone wall chipped and cracked as the prisoners relentlessly swung their pickaxes, especially Rollin whose strikes easily cut into the stone wall.

With no protective gear for their eyes, hands, or mouths. The airborne particles polluted their eyes and invaded their lungs. The handle of the pickaxe peeled the skin on their palms.

"Holy shit, look at that one go! Despite his blood-soiled clothes, he's working like a machine," remarked one guard to another, gesturing toward Rollin. His pace was unmatched, effortlessly hacking away at the stone.

"Fetch Alfred; we've got a natural talent here," the astonished guard urged, hastening to summon 'Alfred.'

Within moments, Rollin's pickaxe struck a stone that emitted a burst of intense sparks, revealing a viridescent, veined interior.

At once, the guard rushed toward Rollin, pulling him away from his workstation with forceful aggression. Caught off guard, Rollin's initial instinct was to drive his pickaxe into the guard's skull, but he refrained from acting on his impulse.

"Just you wait you bunch of meatheads, soon I'm going to be sticking this pickaxe into your stupid heads." Rollin thought calming himself down.

The guard then turned his attention to the elderly prisoners, who were toiling at a slower pace compared to the others. He snapped his fingers, gesturing toward the green-streaked stone Rollin had exposed.