I fully awake immediately and suddenly, dirt falling off of me in clumps and dust as I jolt upright, digging myself out of... a garden? Clumps of clothing strung together by solidified grime and well-wishes cling to my body as I take in my surroundings. A few people with rakes, spades, and other garden tools spot me but are lethargic even in their shock at my sudden self-excavation. The two men closest to me bow their backs in fear, looking away in hopelessness even as their eyes search the higher rails and balconies like prey wary of predators.

I slink into the shadow of a tall succulent, green and bursting with inner sap and gay flowers despite the dryness of the soil from which it grows.

"What are you standing around for? Get back to work before I shoot you in the leg again!" A voice shouts from above, startling the gardeners into a shivering sweat. Immediately, they jump into raking and gardening, backs bent in familiar submission, even as they keep a fearful, untrusting eye on the man who just unearthed himself amongst them.

These are slaves or serfs of some sort, all in similar blue overalls being overseen by armed guards in red overalls under dirt-colored armor. I move amongst shadows on bare feet, jumping over railings, climbing up pillars to get to the upper levels, slinking behind patrols like a gust of wind, here and gone in a moment. It is easy to avoid the lazy guards as their own cruelty distracts them from being vigilant, keeping an eye on these cowed and broken sheep. The workers see me amongst them, walking behind guards, jogging through large corridors, sticking under tables, under windows, through airlocked doors.

This place is huge. A fortress encompassing many different manufacturing, smelting, planting, and energy-generating areas as far as I can tell, but none of that interests me as much as getting out of here as quickly as possible. I follow my nose, my skin, and deeper instincts through the wide-eyed labor force of broken men and women to the upper levels. I witness some of the excesses and abuses with a clinical detachment that seems to embarrass the abused as they see me watch them and hide their eyes.

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Eventually, I get to a window with a loose iron grate and push and pull until my arm can easily go through. Surprisingly, an old man with shaking hands and a blind eye helps me with the grate while the other slaves watch silently in apathetic detachment. I get my head then torso through before I'm on the other side with only a few scrapes and bruises.

Our eyes meet, and for the first time since I woke, I find an uncaring gaze sparkling with life unlived from a bent-back, grey-haired, one-eyed old man with the shakes. He smiles a mischievous smile of triumph and shows me his thumb like it’s a gift or a blessing he’s sending me with.

"Thank you," I find myself touched and moving before I can delay any longer. I find myself with a small window between me and freedom.

The world beyond the window is a vast desert landscape with rocky outcrops as far as the eye can see from fifty meters up, offering an expansive view of the horizon. Nothing alive within dozens of kilometers besides the strange glass, metal, and stone fortress I found myself in, which is a slave prison from all I've gathered.

I take a deep, clean, dry breath. The world is beautiful even in its indifferent cruelty. I work at it and get the window open. Looking at a good spot in the sands below, I jump. I'm ready to start a new life.

*

I have no mental memory of who I am or what I was but I know now I'm a human being on a planet human life has colonised and lived 'peacefully' as the dominate species for millenia. Even without mind memory there is a lot I know about myself and my surroundings that makes it a simple thing to survive the vast desert even with the sun unmercifully beating down on my head, the wind and sand trying to cut furrows on exposed skin or the night cold sapping warmth from skin to bone.

I cover nearly 100km of travelling before I stop to sit and wonder. The stary sky glorious in its majesty, a tapestry of past, future and present power splayed on the sky for all the extrapolate truths from. I do just that, learning the age of the world, the shape of the world, why its so filled with dirt and sand. Distance, direction even where water and power is most likely to be is pointed at by the stars if only you will see and hear what it is they say.

I take a breathe, 'eating' the sustenance I inhale with the air to keep my body strong and that inner fire stoked against cutting cold of the desert.

'Such a beautiful place, maybe I can make something pseudo-permanent for myself here.'

The thought comes and I quickly dismiss the fancy, 'I need to hide not build. I need to ascertain the state of this world then entranch myself so deeply it would take an apocalypse to be rid of me. Then I need to spread myself to another insignificant world because an apocalypse will eventually come.'

With the last breath I hold as much energy within as my body will allow without a Core to store it. It diffuses from my lungs to my heart and spreads with blood as I hold it within. The energy from the sun, from the wind, the sand and everything else in the cycle within vicinity. This way I sustain myself and heal what would otherwise ail me in this beautiful, peaceful hostile place.

Getting up I keep going. Following the starts where they point to power.