Dead and born anew, a soul ventures to a new vessel with its memories intact. Peter Johnson, a former professor of architecture and an avid learner of the past has joined the angels above. Why does this matter? Because I am Peter Johnson, with a quick transfer process, I am rekindled and risen from the ashes like the phoenix. I’m born again into the body of a lowly slave.

My eyes flutter open as the metallic head of the pickaxe bangs against the rock and a sudden urge of fatigue besets me. I immediately lost my footing and slipped on my behind, wary of my surroundings. “What? What’s going on?” I muttered, my head bouncing around in several phenomenal ways as the memories surge and connect into one interconnected body.

A body joins me at the ground, as a concerned face grabs me up quickly without saying the slightest word. He gestures for me to continue working and banging away at the rock, not because I was slacking, but not wanting to draw in unneeded attention. This short fellow with brown hair and burn marks along his cheek was known to me as Hibe. He had no last name, he was just Hibe.

In between each crack of the earth, “Tylor, you should know better than anyone that the slackers get beaten to death.” Bang. “Are you trying to get us killed?” Ching. The sweat rolled off his dirt mask, as powdery dust bursted into the air with each explosion into the ground.

“Of course not, I suddenly just got dizzy. That was all.” I said, still trying to gather my bearings. This was much more pain than I was used to. The work was brutal in comparison to my previous scholarly life before. I really missed the old life all of a sudden, but the things here had me burning with passion on the inside. My curiosity had enlightened a hellish flame.

According to the person I had just ascended into, my name was Tylor Justifix. I’m the lowest level slave, which is considered by far the worst position in society. Slaves are apparently categorized into four positions: slave worker, slave guard, slave overseer, and slave nobleman. These four make up the working society known as the slave society which presides underground.

Slaves are born into slavery, just like Tylor and Hibe were, as they were not blood brothers, but best friends. Slaves had relatively little knowledge about the outside world, and most couldn’t even read or write. The threshold to become a slave guard was high, and you had to be somewhat literate to even qualify.

As a former scholar, I’m confident I can learn the language, but I’m not so confident in the other areas. Such as opportunity for growth. A society with a force so large working these labyrinths is undeniably in a very production-esque age. Meaning it needs more workers and less management.

A loud siren churned throughout F Block, and the workers immediately crumpled to the floor in an exasperated sigh of relief. “Break time! Eat up, you Quags!” The overseer said, as the guards came in and began throwing food on the bare ground like we were dogs. It wasn’t far from the truth in their eyes. Like rampant wild beasts, the slaves darted over toward the scrap food from the higher-ups, and stuffed it down their throats, dirt and all. They swallowed it like a life-line.

It was only now that I realized how malnourished my body was. Were the luckiest to survive, or was it the strong? Apparently Tylor here was strong, he had been a slave from birth, but had heard the stories of the surface lands. A small break was a great gift every day to these people, as they knew no other happiness than this. They were satisfied with this? How disgusting.

The person who I was in the past would not allow for my second life to be wasted in these confinements of hell. It was simply the biggest disregard of all the knowledge I had previously attained and worked for, for countless hours on end!

“Hibe, tell me. What is the fastest way to become a slave guard?” I asked, looking at him with a new-found determination in my eyes that brightly resonated my yellow colored eyes and brown hair.

He looked at me perplexed, “Why the sudden interest in such unimportant matters?” He asked.

“I was just wondering...how much better fed they are than us. The standard of living must be leaps and bounds better than this!” I exclaimed.

“You’re overreacting, all slaves will be slaves. Even the noblemen aren’t treated as anything more than peasants in the surface world, and getting by on the surface for them is harder than living down here in abundance. You should forget about that life immediately, you have no noble bloodline to your name anyways.”

I became silent, as I realized this fact. If I were to escape these confinements, first I would need to hold some value to people higher up, rather than just a tool for their garments. I put my finger on my lip, and brainstormed.

“Break’s over! Back to work you Quags!” The overseer said, as we picked up our tools. Then it hit me. Quags, a derogatory term to shame the lowest of the low. A staple statement to call those born into slavery at the lowest point of the slave society. This would be a perfect bargaining piece for me with the slaves around me. First and foremost I would need manpower to undertake this first operation.

The overseer had a fat belly, and the guards weren’t malnourished, so it was an obvious fact that they were eating a fair amount of the share, and giving us the dog food basically. With all of this in mind, there was little left to do. I just started planting seeds.

“Hibe, why do you think they call us Quags in such a hostile manner? Why is the overseer heavy-bellied like that? Why do we only get his leftovers?” I threw a bundle of statements at Hibe at once, overwhelming him.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“You sure are a talkative one lately, what’s gotten into you Tylor? First of all, I’d rather not talk about such things. Second, you know talking badly about the overseer is forbidden! If he hears us, we’re good as dead!” He said.

I had no prior knowledge of this, meaning my suspicions were confirmed as true. I didn’t retain Tylor’s full memory, it was still blanketed by my own consciousness somehow. I never thoroughly knew how the brain worked, nor would I ever.

“I’m going to suck up to the overseer, and gain his trust. Then, when he makes me a guard, I’ll pilfer my way to the top and claw my way to the surface. Just you wait Hibe, and when all is said and is done, I’ll take you with me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He chipped against the rock. It seemed I had finally gotten to the soft part of his feelings, and unveiled his true desires. He had his reasoning, but he was also ambitious much like how I am now.

A sudden shake of the rock resulted in a collapse. The rock tumbled over some slaves, and definitely killed one. The others were emasculated under the rock and crying for help as they clawed at the dirt. A few of the guards tried to pry them out from under the large canvas of the rock, but to no abandon did they find success. My enriched senses told me this was a golden opportunity to present my good fortune ahead.

“Move aside!” I forcibly began to lift the rock with the help of the others, Tylor being naturally strong. The other slaves were left in awe as the slaves from underneath crawled out. My forehead was visibly strained as I clenched my teeth to withstand the sheer amount of weight I was holding.

The guards and slaves took note of this, as the ever present Overseer simply bit through a slab of meat in his comfortable leather chair. He had a beautifully decorated room behind these cavern walls. It had everything in it, from a matt to sleep on to a nice area to sit.

The blaring alarm sounded as I dropped the rock. I had saved a few lives on that day, and people took note of it. The F block was dismissed for the day and we would report back to our room. F block had a single room which housed every individual that worked there in it. Around thirty men worked in F block.

The room had a green canvas carpet and nowhere to sleep. The slaves never washed, never changed, and never sought their eyes above. The motto we learned was Work, Thank, and Live. That is all our lives meant to our superiors. The overseers were gluttons, and the noblemen didn’t even visit the working blocks. They lived in the underground slave city, managing everything and sending supplies up to the surface kingdom. The nameless kingdom we work for. The evil empire we served.

Hibe and a few others came up to me, looking happily toward me like I was some kind of hero. “Tylor you’ve done us a great deed today, and Hibe has informed us of your motives. We support you.” One of the men said, plopping a squat beside me.

The three men and I formed a circle as we spoke. “I’m Lincoln, pleasure to meet you, and thank you for saving me.” The talkative one who had spoken before introduced himself. He had blonde hair and was rather tall.

“Oh and this is Reynolds, he’s a bit shy though.” The other man I had saved waved, he had black hair than ran down behind his back and a beard that scruffled his face into the posture of a man. “Anyways, you have our full support, and as a token of our gratitude we are willing to do anything for you. We follow your leadership.” Lincoln said as Reynold and Hibe nodded.

Completely flabbergasted, I put my hand into the center of the group, “Okay, thank you for supporting me in this endeavor. I’ll now brief you on the plan. First, we need to amount to something. Scrounge together all of our belongings and gain favor among the higher ups. I know we have very little to give, but even so, we have weapons! Our mining picks will be our greatest ally if things turn south.” I said.

The men nodded, they lingered into their pockets and grabbed out what they had. A few slave society coins dangled to the ground and a purple stone came from Lincoln’s pocket. “It’s my heritage from my father.” He said, rather painfully.

Reynolds grabbed out an entire metal knuckle, in where god’s name he got it, I have no idea.Finally, Hibe unfastened a knob from the handle of his pickaxe and revealed a pouch of slave coins. It was enough to buy his was to be a slave guard, but not enough for the four of us. Everyone eyed him with suspicion.

I took initiative, “Why the hell do you have that many coins and not move up the ladder? With that, the Overseer would practically have to give you a status of a guard!” I whispered hysterically.

“I’ve been trying to save up enough for the both of us since we were kids Tylor, I’ve been stealing tiny parcels of money from the overseer every now and then. Of course he notices the missing money, why do you think he beats us so regularly!? If I come up to him with that sack of money, he’ll immediately verify me as the thief and have me decapitated at once!” He explained passionately.

I grew quiet, and thought about how we could escape this situation. The Overseer would never allow us as guards because of Hibe. We’d instead have to fully incorporate myself as the leader of F block and then forcibly coup the Overseer into giving me his personal belongings and then assuming his position as Overseer. It’s possibly the best plan I have.

“Say we do take over F block or try to...will our pickaxes be enough against their swords? How many guards are in F block? Maybe fifteen?” I asked.

They nodded in agreement, the number was probably around fifteen. “This is what we do. We give word to the slaves in the F block, and propagate their support under me. When we have most of the block vying for rebellion, we will strike, and begin our march toward the surface!” I said, valiantly.

Putting my hand toward the center of the group, we made the deal on that day, that we would become men of rebellion, unshackled by society. Our hands met on top of one another, and in eyes of ambition we declared ourselves in pursuit of freedom, so that we could unveil the secrets of this world and live a life more prosperous than the last.

I smiled internally on the inside, an adventure had just begun, and I was ready to make it last until I was at the top of the world itself.