The day was cold and grey and ugly.

The winds howling across desolated plains and rocky ridges with a ferocity that beggared belief. Making it so that he barren landscape whistled maliciously as the air passed over and around the stones near the mining complex.

The darkening clouds dotting the heavens above us certainly didn't help matters either.

Indeed, their presence only served to highlight the dourness of the housing complex that surrounded the mine. The barbed wire fencing and emaciated guards acting as little more than decorations on the periphery.

'Do their guns work, I wonder?'

Perhaps.

Though I didn't see how it mattered in the end.

This remained a place of death either way. The grim reaper's presence clearly visible on all the people toiling in the mines down below.

All of them looked old and tired. Ready to embrace death when it finally came.

But I had read some of Carlyle's files. Folders that included their real names, and the crimes their extended family had committed.

I knew better.

And the knowledge sickened me.

A girl passed below us then. Twelve, by my estimate. Though it was hard to tell due to how skinny and malnourished she was.

She had a matted, tangled mess of filthy black hair on her head. Cut short so as to not impede her work.

Her face was ashen and pale. The only colors coming from the soot she was covered in and the bruises on her right cheek.

Her body was covered in a filthy rag that any sensible person would have thrown out back home. Loose strands of fabric trailing down patchwork patterns that ran down to her stick-like legs and bare feet.

A normal human would not have been able to tell what kind of face she was making from this distance, but such a feat was nothing to me.

She was in trance. Focused solely on her work and in putting one foot in front of the other. Not daring to think about anything else, lest she accidentally drop the sack she was carrying.

Her hands were filled with a motley mix of scabs and open sores and I had to wonder where she got the strength to remain upright under all that pressure.

Her sunken-in eyes regarded our party briefly. Her pupils holding on to my reflection with the slightest hint of curiosity.

Then, a guard behind her jammed the butt of his old rifle into her midsection and any hint of that was gone. The eyes that I saw then might as well have belonged to a sock puppet, for all the life they held.

I felt my fists clench in spite of myself. My magic surging like a typhoon with a deadly mix of rage and indignation.

'Kill him.' A voice whispered in my ear. 'Kill them all. You're, what? Level five? And all these monsters have are rifles dating back to the Korean war. It doesn't matter that [Space] isn't geared towards combat. You could end this entire thing. Right here. Right now. You could save all these people and take them wherever you damn well pleased.'

'No.' Another voice whispered. 'Carlyle knows what he's doing. He's a heartless bastard, but not to this degree. Be patient. These people will be free.'

'When?' The first voice countered. 'When Breaking Day finally comes? When half or more of them have died and withered away into rotting strips of meat? When it becomes expedient for him and his master plan? Can you really afford to wait that long? Can that girl survive that long? Think, Casper. Is this what dad would have wanted? What do you suppose he would have done?'

That was a hard question to answer.

On the one hand, dad always trusted Carlyle unconditionally. To the detriment of most other things in his life.

On the other hand, I couldn't bring myself to think that he would permit this. The dad I knew would have rained down death on anyone who hurt children.

Or so I hoped.

'How odd.' I mused inwardly. 'The angel at my shoulder is crying out for blood, while the devil is urging me to be patient.'

I shook my head and took another deep, relaxing breath.

Unclenching my fists as I did so.

'Later.' I promised myself. 'I will ask Carlyle about all of this later today. As soon as we're done here. Whatever it is that he's planning, it has to be soon. I won't stand for anything less.'

My ears perked up at that moment. Carlyle's voice cutting through the others like a hot knife through butter.

He was laughing with the general and his men. Jovially discussing something in Korean that I couldn't understand.

If the scenery had made him upset, he didn't show it.

He turned to a stout middle-aged man and clasped him around the shoulders as one would a long-lost brother. Welcoming him into a hug and pointing at the trucks parked nearby.

The ones full of the crops Cecil had grown.

The general and his staff all laughed. Carlyle laughed.

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Then they walked along the outer perimeter of the mine until they reached the only relatively nice building within three kilometers.

I followed them in silence. Playing the part of another, less multilingual investor as well as I could.

The inside of the manse was a stark contrast to the world outside.

Here, music echoed through the halls from relatively decent speakers. The tracks intermixed with the usual bouts of nonsensical propaganda.

At some point, the broadcast began proclaiming that fifty odd Olympic medals had recently been won. In English and other languages. Despite the Olympics taking place two years ago and, as far as I knew, no one from the country winning a single event.

'But I suppose that's a bit of an insignificant gripe compared to what's happening outside.'

For my part, I remained as stoic and formal as possible. Nodding along to whatever it was Carlyle was saying half the time and retreating back to the confines of my own imagination when that didn't suffice.

Just like that, an hour turned into two and then into three.

Time flying past me as I tried to focus on my own children and how they might perceive the things I'd seen here.

Then my mind started playing tricks on me. My brain replacing the unnamed girl in the mine with one of my daughters.

I coughed. Loudly.

My magic surging out from within my core in a hurricane. Spreading throughout my body with murderous intent.

But Carlyle put a stop to that soon enough.

Sending a psychic bolt into me that disrupted my core and sent me reeling to the floor.

He waved the scene away. Saying other things I could not understand and all the general and all his staff laughed alongside him.

And then we were off. The nearby soldiers escorting us to our arranged transport with nothing but the most strict politeness.

Even then, Carlyle began talking loudly at me. Laughing about how much I'd drank and warning me not to let myself get carried away like that in the future.

Only when we had travelled for another thirty or so minutes did he allow the mask to drop. Two bursts of magic knocking our driver and the other soldier out cold. Making them as limp as puppets whose strings had been cut.

"That was poor acting on your part, Casper." He said. His voice even and devoid of emotion. Even as he made to grab the steering wheel with swift fluid movements.

Carlyle then pushed the man aside with the greatest of ease and slammed into the breaks. Holding back just enough raw power to keep the pedals in one piece.

"Forget my acting!" I yelled. Rage coming back to me in white hot flashes as I centered myself. "What the fuck was that Carlyle!?"

He gave me a sideways glance. One filled with disappointment.

"Business, Casper. Always business." He sighed dramatically then. Lifting both men off the now still vehicle and dragging the towards the trunk.

"North Korea was not exactly feasting before global crop yields took a nosedive. After the fall of the soviet union, it wasn't at all strange to see entire villages being abandoned due to starvation. Now, well. The camp you saw used to house roughly 400 political prisoners and their extended families. For a total of 1500 or so. Now, there are less than 150 people in total living there."

He shook his head sadly.

"The rural communities are not much better either. That, and the usual allies can't provide the help they used to, due to wrangling food shortages of their own. Neither can they rely on the goodwill of the international community as most other countries are going though the same ordeal. In short, they have a great unmet demand and we happen to have the supply they so desperately crave."

"So, you'll sell them food."

"Of course!" Carlyle guffawed. "What else are we going to sell them?"

I shook my head in incredulity.

"What are they even paying you with then? I mean, I'll admit I don't know much about this place, but I do know they're not exactly swimming in cash."

"Ah, but that is because you are close-minded my young friend." Carlyle corrected. "This whole country is a proverbial goldmine! Think about it! You've got vast swathes of unused land, ripe for terraforming. A group of leaders who truly could not care any less what we do there so long as they get their cut; AND a population used to doing as they're told without asking questions. For pennies on the dollar to boot."

He chuckled. The bastard actually chuckled.

"In fact, a good chunk of people get sent off to nearby countries for cheap labor every year. Or, at least, they used to get sent off. There are a couple of good documentaries on the subject matter, if you care to look them up."

"So, we're relying on slave labor now are we?"

Carlyle made a faux-insulted gesture. Pretending to gasp as if he'd been taken aback.

"My word Casper! Of course not! Quite the contrary! We are here for humanitarian reasons!"

I narrowed my eyes at that.

"Oh don't give me that look you big baby. It's true and it'll become obvious if you stop to think about it for more than a few seconds."

"Why don't you enlighten me?"

Carlyle sighed with exaggerated exasperation.

"Okay. So, first. The country is starving. Even general yummers back there lost twenty pounds in the last two months. Things aren't just bad. This is a trainwreck spanning two entire continents. Now, granted, a lot of other countries are also starving right now, but nowhere else will you get the kind of media blackout North Korea can impose. Again, we can literally do whatever we want, so long as the gravy train keeps rolling and none of it has to be public to the outside world. All while we genuinely save lives."

He finished stashing the two men into the trunk.

"Make no mistake. There are hundreds of thousands of peasants out here who are already effectively slaves. They already don't have any kind of choice as to what they do or what happens to their lives. And their leaders starve them to boot."

He pointed to himself.

"We will be doing none of that. I plan to pay them first-world wages for first world work hours. A grand total of 40 hours a week without overtime. I swear it on my honor. That, and anyone that gets sent to our little projects will get as much food as they can cram down their mouths. All for free. No questions asked. All I ask is that they take the food out of the ground themselves. I mean, you've seen Cecil's magic at work. That's an asset that's too valuable to not use right now and we're short on labor no matter how you slice it."

"Is that really it?" I asked him warily. "Is that all?"

"Well, I will also be asking them to man the Dungeon that's about to manifest around here, but that will be a secondary concern after we get food production up and started."

He raised himself up while puffing out his chest.

"Not only will we be feeding them properly, but we will also be providing them with better housing, entertainment and eventually, societal freedoms they could never have enjoyed otherwise. I mean, come on! We're literally bringing democracy here! We're bringing industry! So what if it comes through early access to Cecil's homegrown monsters or a man-eating Dungeon?"

I had to massage my temple to keep the migraine at bay.

"You... you're telling me there's a Dungeon. Here. In North Korea. And you want to... what? Raise people here to have cores?"

I found myself blinking several times in quick succession. My mind struggling to contain the incredulity I was feeling.

"And why not?" Carlyle scoffed. "I'll have you know that my first wife, James' mother, was from here. We met and fell in love during the Japanese occupation. Back when I was but a simple-minded resistance fighter. The people who live here are good, hard working folks. The kind that persevere no matter the odds and fight bravely for what they believe in. They deserve every opportunity to get magic for themselves and find their way through the incoming apocalypse."

My brain short-circuited for a moment at that.

"B-but! The government! What about when they get their hands on magic!"

"Oh that's a minor concern." Carlyle said. Waving away the glaring flaw in his master plan.

"The great leader is totally on board with making peace and slowly allowing the people more and more civil liberties."

My eyes almost popped out of my skull.

"He is!?"

Carlyle paused to chuckle again. Pulling something out of his right pocket and placing it over his face.

"Well, not right now. But he will be."

His face blurred as the thing made contact. His body transforming into one that was younger. Shorter. Wider.

"After you kill him that is."