Chapter 4: Relentless Struggle

Hard labor was my whole life now, but it wasn't like any job I'd known. My pen and calculator turned into a pickaxe and a bucket. I was mining, not in some comfy office, but in a dangerous place where toxic fumes could kill me. No more worrying about eye strain or bad posture.

The work didn't make sense, and I watched the other prisoners – some were like humans, some were kinda human, and some, I had no clue. We all listened to those weird mutated bosses.

Every day, I worked hard, just trying to stay alive. Swinging the pickaxe, breathing heavy, hitting rocks – it felt like a bad dream. The sound of the pickaxe hitting the rock echoed in my head like a broken record.

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In all that grinding work, the highlight was when I found a crystal. It was rare and special. I'd find maybe one or two a day if I was lucky. These crystals were like money here – they could get me some stale bread and water. The food tasted terrible, but it kept me going.

The old man, who looked weak, always got more crystals than me. He was smart about it. I tried talking to him and others, but those mutated guards didn't like that. They punished us quick.

Days and nights mixed up in a hard routine – work, rest, work again. Sleep was short, but I guessed we got four hours after every twelve hours of digging, with short breaks in between. Each moment of sleep was a bit of relief from the endless work.

Remembering the old man's sad end, I pushed myself. Every swing of the pickaxe, every scoop with the bucket, was me saying I wouldn't give up. Even though I didn't know what we were doing, those crystals and the hard work were clues. I held onto the idea that somehow, in this mess, there had to be answers.

In the middle of all this craziness, I just kept going. The shine of a crystal meant more than just food – it meant a chance to figure out what the heck was going on. Survival was the game, and I wasn't about to lose.