Chapter 5: The Old Man's Reflection

As I watched the ugly, mutated beings drag Randy into the neighboring cell, I couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. Another pitiful soul tossed into this wretched place, a sight I'd witnessed too many times. It stirred something within me, like an old fog lifting from a forgotten memory. Had it been fifty years? Felt much longer.

Back then, when I first awoke in a cell similar to this one, I found myself next to another old man. He would become my mentor, a man I'd be eternally grateful to and yet despise with all my being. If only he'd kept his mouth shut, never informed me of our grim reality, perhaps I could've clung to hope. I was destined to be a legend, but all those dreams were shattered by that old man. Now, it was my turn to meet my fate. The arrival of a new candidate only meant one thing – my time was up. My usefulness had come to an end. However long I lasted from now on was a bonus.

My mentor, a genius in his own right, had pieced together the truth over his decades here. This place, this desolate prison, was not about mining crystals at all. "No," he'd say with that grating laughter, "we're producing crystals. The rocks are just rocks, nothing more. We're conduits, Randy, from our previous world to this one. Through us, the world essence is siphoned off bit by bit."

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According to him, our laborious toil was a training regimen, meant to push us to directly produce these crystals through our physical exertion. He believed our world wouldn't even flinch at such a minor loss, but it would trigger its defenses if it detected a larger leak. People here thought they were walking paths of glory, destined for legend, dedicating themselves wholeheartedly to survive and produce. And in return, they received the highest quality world essence for their operations. It was a win-win, except for me.

My hopes and dreams had crumbled when I learned the truth. I was just a pig for slaughter, a conduit, a battery. My existence had never felt as inconsequential as it did now. I discovered that the old man was over a hundred years old, seventy of those spent here. He was practically an ancient among us, one of our ancestors. Their lives had been filled with harsh day-to-day conditions, and they were accustomed to hard labor. I, on the other hand, had lived in a bustling city in the 1970s, a time of growth and development. Luxuries abounded, and life hadn't been as demanding. I could only imagine the kind of life the young man before me had led and the hardships he was about to face.

My mentor knew all of this and still didn’t lose hope, he went out with a bang quite literally, he would die trying rather than give up, he gave me the opportunity, an opportunity that I failed to make full use of, the opportunity I never asked for and that is why I resent him so much, only if he discussed with me, told me maybe we could do something better, maybe find a way for both of us to escape.

I know now he was right and that convincing me would be nigh impossible, not a day goes by I regret that time and think if I would be able to make that sacrifice in his place.