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The Toymaker
Level 2: Bread

Level 2: Bread

Miles sat and reflected on his life over the past two weeks. Well, he assumed it was about two weeks anyways given the amount of times his circadian rhythm had prodded him into sleeping. He rested in the corner of their cell, in as close to isolation as possible. Being crammed into a room the size of his hometown that was filled to the brim with people didn’t exactly allow for much privacy.

After the war...no you couldn’t even call it that. There hadn’t been a resistance. Everything and everyone that even attempted to fight back was dealt with before they’d even known what they were fighting. The rest had be herded like cattle and put on some kind of transport ships as best he could tell.

Some of them had decided that they weren’t too happy with their situation, but anyone who spoke up was never seen again. Who knows if they were killed or simply silenced, but he wasn’t in any position to be a rebel regardless. Neither his will nor his prosthetic leg would’ve allowed him any sort of success.

The first couple of days were full of fear and trepidation. Mothers begging to see their children, those lost children crying without end, and the less stable amongst them losing what little sanity they had. Slowly the noise died down however, and soon the only interruption in their dull passage to wherever they were being taken was the daily feeding provided to them. Slots in the wall opened to reveal tables made of dark polished metal. In fact the whole room seemed to be made of the metal. On the tables were simple looking loaves of bread; bread that somehow seemed to complete satiate one’s appetite.

Miles had always been a large man. Broad shoulders and an athletic frame met with an intimidating looking beard. All he’d had to do was walk without a limp and no one had even realized that he was a cripple. That had been enough to secure a daily food provision for himself. It also afforded him the luxury of being able to examine the situation in more detail and realize that they were intentionally creating a hierarchy amongst this group of survivors. Not pretty when all that’s left were the strongest of the weak. So he’d taken to getting a few extra scraps of bread for a few of the lost children who hadn’t been taken in by any of the other groups yet, but other than that he’d kept to himself.

In his isolation he thought about what exactly was happening to them. The creatures that had taken them were very large. At least a few feet taller than the biggest human he’d ever seen. Alongside the strange metal that their transport was made from and the bread they’d been eating, it was all undeniably alien. The fact that it had sunk in so early for him was the only reason he hadn’t panicked like so many of the others. The realization that he truly had no power acted both as a calming agent and a paralytic for him.

Dragging himself back to the present, he got back to his thoughts on the strange metal that the ship was made from. He was no metallurgist, but his family had long been in the work of making custom children’s toys, so we was something of a tinkerer. Never having planned on going into that line of work, he’d fallen a bit behind the rest of his family, but when that damn accident happened...he shook his head. “Best not to go down that rabbit hole, bud.” He murmured to himself.

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It seemed by all accounts to be steel at first glance. The color was all wrong though, and so was the hardness. He’d been able to bring his toolbag with him, just another reminder at how little his capturs feared his ability to escape. He had some steel implements with him, and when he’d taken them to the wall near his corner he hadn’t even been able to scratch it.

“Who the hell are these people?!” He sighed in exasperation.

He suddenly noticed the presence of one of the children he’d been feeding standing in front of him. A small redhead, probably not any older than five or six years old. Cute freckles and green eyes, well at least now that she’d stopped crying and the redness had receded.

“Ummm, Mr. Reed…” She stammered, “Wha...what are you doing to the wall?”

Miles smiled, his inclination towards children because of his profession shining through his introverted nature. “Come and see Mary. Isn’t this metal weird? This needle is hardened steel, which is one of the hardest metal alloy on earth, but I can’t even scratch it!” He said as he held up the small needle he’d been scratching at the wall with.

The shy girl came over and reached out her hand. He handed the needle to her and she tried to scratch at the wall as hard as she could, her face scrunching up and turning red with exertion.

Miles stifled a laugh at the small girl’s antics, but ultimately failed and he flushed with embarrassment as the people nearest to him scowled at him for laughing.

“What’s so funny?!” She said as she hit his shoulder.

“Nothing at all, it’s just that you remind me a lot of my younger sister when she was your age.”

Mary smiled and giggled a little. Mr. Reed was always really nice to her and the other kids, she didn’t know why the adults didn’t like him. “Do you know where your sister is now?” The small girl asked.

Miles collected himself as he stopped laughing and with a small smile that betrayed his emotional state he answered, “Ahh, she passed away...a few years ago. I suppose it’s a good thing though, I wouldn’t have wanted her to go through this.”

He looked up and saw that the young girl had a frown on her face and tears in her eyes. “You damn idiot, look what you did now.” He thought to himself.

He brought his hand up and ruffled her hair, leaning a little closer to look her in the face. “You listen up, nothing bad is going to happen to you. I swear I won’t let anyone hurt you, ok?” He attempted to lace as much sincerity into his voice as possible. His motivation being that it would be better for her to have some positivity in her life than the truth.

She rubbed her eyes and coughed before showing him a small smile. “You Promise?”

“I pro…” He was cut off by the loud groaning of the gears that held the the door imprisoning them opening.

Mary reached out and grabbed his hand, clearly terrified. He slung his bag over his shoulder and leaned against the wall the stand himself. They began to walk towards the door together, with a few other children trailing behind them. He stumbled a bit, but steadied himself quickly as they walked to the door. He had no idea what would happen next, but it wouldn’t do him any good to show his weakness...yet.