Excavation

Amidst the darkness of the endless metal corridors, sunlight streamed through the narrow alleyways. A very young boy with brown hair walked along them as if he had every path memorized. With a backpack on his back, he held onto the straps in an innocent manner.

Two men cornered a defenseless homeless man lying on the ground. They wore dark blue police uniforms and matching spiked helmets. They kicked the elderly man — who had long, unkempt hair and wore tattered clothes — while shouting incoherent phrases and pointing a pointed, gold-and-light-blue instrument at him.

What is that? the innocent boy wondered. I'll ask Dad.

He ran and turned the corner. Suddenly, a loud, thunderous sound echoed through the alley, leaving the boy deaf for an instant. He looked back but decided to open a door in front of him and step inside.

He wasn't smiling, but it was clear he was neither sad nor irritated. It was simply his usual expression. He quickly crossed the small rooms and opened a door, revealing a room that looked rusted. An elderly man was resting his head on the wooden table, visibly tired and dozing.

"Dad?" the boy called out as he closed the door behind him. The man woke with a start, putting on the glasses that were on the table.

"Oh, it's you, son..." he laughed nervously. "You're back from school?" His gray, short hair kept tidy even after he rested his face on the table.

"Yeah..." the boy confirmed, looking around. "You slept in your suit again?"

"Oh, this is just..." The man rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up. His suit was gray and slightly dirty. "Yeah, I haven't been able to rest properly these days..."

"Why not?" the boy asked indifferently. "You're back from work, aren't you? Can't you just go to sleep?"

"Not exactly..." the father replied, looking away. Then he lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret. "There’s something I’ve been working on, and... you know, since the guards sometimes come into our house, I can’t let them see it."

"Why not? Is it confidential?" the boy suggested in his usual voice. His father motioned for him to lower his voice.

"Speak softly; don't let them hear us," the man warned. "Listen, Cliff, never let the authorities hear you talking about them. It's disrespectful."

"Why?" The boy tilted his head, confused. "Aren't they on our side?"

"They are, but..." the old man left the sentence hanging. "You know, they could always break into our house and..."

"Can't we just say no?" the boy suggested.

"Not when it comes to the government," the father denied.

They remained silent for a few seconds, amidst a somber atmosphere.

"Dad, are the police bad?" Cliff asked, looking down at the ground with concern.

"Not always, son," the old man replied, smiling serenely. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I saw two guards beating up a homeless man..." the boy confessed, with a heavy heart.

"Don't think too much about it, son." The man stood up and walked over to his son; he knelt down and patted him on the head. "Never put yourself in danger for someone else, okay? Especially if you don't know them. You could make the situation worse."

"I know..." the boy murmured. "I would have stepped in, but you always tell me to ignore other people's problems... and I was scared..."

"It's okay, son," the father said as he hugged his son, stroking the back of his head, "it's okay. Never let your emotions get the better of you; you'll regret it later."

Cliff hugged his father, feeling comforted. "The guards were pointing a tiny spear at the beggar," he continued. "What could that be?"

"A spear...?" The father looked into his son's eyes, alarmed. "They didn't point it at you, did they? What was it like?"

"It was gold and..." the boy rested his finger on his chin, thoughtful. "It glowed blue, I think? I’d never seen anything like it before."

"Cliff, stay away from that," the old man warned. "Never let anyone point that at you, understood?"

"What does it do?" the kid asked innocently. "Is it dangerous?"

"Yes, it's very dangerous." The father brought his face close to his son's. "That's why I'm telling you not to provoke the guards."

"I see..." Cliff murmured, concerned.

The father smiled and hugged him again. "That's my boy."

Cliff and Troyka flew together in the small plane. The shield around the machine made it easier for them to relax and not be overwhelmed by the wind or the sound.

Troyka: "Do you have a destination? I don't know where to go."

Troyka looked back, seeking confirmation. Cliff frowned, confused. He pointed at himself. Troyka nodded.

Troyka: "Yeah! It's my first time leaving the islands, so I don't know Siffren very well! Look, right here."

He pointed to a map on the aircraft's interface. There were many points of interest marked on the map, as well as a compass. 

Troyka: "We must be..." 

He kept his index finger hovering over a seemingly random point, trying to find something.

Troyka: "...around here! Because my home used to be here, and we're flying north."

Cliff brought his head closer to the interface, carefully analyzing the map.

I don't know much about this continent either...

He pointed to a city that was apparently important, as it was highlighted. Its name was Siffren.

That must be the capital... Ugh, just thinking about that filthy place makes me sick...

Troyka: "Siffren? I've heard good things about that city. After all, it even bears the name of the continent!"

It was probably just propaganda...

Troyka: "Then, let's keep heading north! We'll probably have just enough fuel to get there."

I don't know the exact location of my home... but it was west of the capital. We can start there.

Troyka continued piloting the aircraft with a smile on his face, unbothered by the strange situation they found themselves in. Cliff felt guilty.

Damn... I just killed this boy's entire family and now I'm using him as a taxi? Am I the villain? Did I really deserve to go to hell?

He kept his thoughts to himself, as sharing them might make the situation worse. He didn't know how others felt, since he didn't interact with many of them. His father was always saying he shouldn't meddle in other people's problems, so as not to put himself in unnecessary danger. This lack of empathy made him similar to Troyka. Well, at least when it came to strangers.

They continued flying, enjoying the view. Cliff’s body was slowly returning to "normal," with his demonic form receding to a minimum. He now had only one small wing, so he couldn't fly until he transformed again. After leaving the infirmary, he forced his other half to cooperate by temporarily taking away his freedom and conceding him powers.

This constant shifting between forms, however, was causing him to slowly lose his identity. It was an endless cycle of multiple souls vying for his place. Well, at least he was "alive."

It was a relatively smooth journey. Nothing could go wrong, unless the aircraft suffered a malfunction or ran out of fuel sooner than expected. However, the machine was working as intended. Halfway through the trip, the shield began to fail.

Troyka: "Looks like I need to switch the power cell. We're going to land for a second, okay?"

Troyka initiated the descent until they landed on the surface. He put on the goggles that were in his hat and the mask from his backpack and jumped from the aircraft, landing on the grass. He stumbled and fell on his stomach, his balance completely off. He felt his limbs heavier. He stood up quickly, shaking the dust off his uniform and backpack, and then stretched his body, which was stiff after sitting for so long.

Troyka: "Come on, breathe some fresh air!"

Cliff hesitated, but then jumped from the machine, landing safely on the ground. The wind brushed through his human hair as he took in the view. It was exactly as he remembered: plains with mountains in the distance. It was a landscape very similar to that of his home.

Troyka: "The surface is much denser than the sky... There is so much land everywhere..."

He gazed at the horizon, filled with wonder.

Troyka: "It almost feels like there's no end to it..."

Cliff enjoyed the view, as he had missed that kind of landscape. Now, he could simply exist, without being constantly pursued by demons.

Troyka: "So, have you ever been to Siffren?"

The boy stretched his back, making it crack. Cliff knelt and wrote in the dirt with his finger: "The capital was my first home."

Troyka: "Really? I heard it's the most advanced city on the continent — maybe even in the world!"

Cliff: "It’s disgusting, to say the least. I don’t miss anything from there, except for my dad and my school friends."

Troyka: "Eh? Seriously?!"

Troykapaused to think, rubbing his forehead.

Troyka: "Wait a moment, I thought you missed it there..."

Cliff: "I hate that place, but it's still the capital. It's a good reference point."

Troyka: "You want to use the capital as a reference point...?"

The boy stroked his chin thoughtfully.

Troyka: "And then? A reference point for what?"

Cliff: "My second home. My wife and daughter might be there."

Troyka: "'Might'? Did something happen to them?"

Cliff: "It's a long story. Anyway, maybe we could also buy more of that fuel you have."

Troyka: "Bysteen power cells? Do they have those there?"

Cliff: "Before I moved, the city was incorporating a glowing blue component to create new, more powerful weapons. They're probably negotiating that with the source."

Troyka: "Hmm...?"

The boy gave one last stretch, ready to go.

Troyka: "Sounds great! About the grass..."

He pointed to the ground, which was covered in messages. Cliff quickly scooped up handfuls of dirt and covered the area around them. The grass was gone, but it was discreet enough. Troyka was surprised.

Troyka: "Eh...? Did you really grab dirt with your bare hands?"

Cliff shrugged, indifferent.

Troyka: "Well, an engineer like me shouldn't be getting dirt in the gears, so I get a pass. Shall we?"

He removed the nearly depleted power cell and then inserted a new one. They took flight again. They traveled for a long time until they flew over a massive mountain range. The eager boy pointed at them with more enthusiasm than when he was with his family.

Troyka: "Oh! Are those mountains?! I've always wanted to see them in person!"

It's been a while since I've been to one...

Troyka: "But let's leave the vacation for another time. We don't have much fuel."

They continued flying until something strange appeared on the horizon. It looked like a huge, invisible wall.

Troyka: "Is that..."

The boy squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. As they approached the strange phenomenon, everything became clear to him, but not to Cliff, who didn't recognize it.

Troyka: "I can't believe it..."

His eyes widened in shock.

Troyka: "Hey, Cliff, is that the Lucia Crater?"

The boy turned his head to confirm.

Lucia Crater...?

Cliff looked confused, as if he didn't know what that meant.

Troyka: "You don't know the Lucia Crater? Well, I think it's time for a little history lesson. My dad used to bring me books from the surface, so I would read them when I was bored. Do you know why the five continents have such a diverse distribution of humans and monsters?

Monsters...? Until I went to hell, I'd never seen anything like it. Except... animals, maybe?

Cliff shook his head.

Troyka: "Our planet used to be dominated by monsters on all five continents: Siffren, Ucathia, the Abyss, Azareth, and Netherith. Do you remember any of those names?"

Ucathia...? I think I learned about the disaster that happened there in school. But I don't know much about the other continents besides Siffren.

Cliff waved his hand, signaling that he knew more or less.

Troyka: "Well, that makes things easier. Hundreds of years ago, humans and monsters waged an all-out war, where the deities were on the side of the humans and the demons and devils on the side of the monsters. But they were far more numerous than our race."

Cliff pointed ahead to warn the boy about something. Troyka saw the crater approaching.

Troyka: "Oh, thanks for reminding me."

He turned the steering wheel to navigate around the immense void. Everything there was total darkness, with some distorted waves outlining the shape of the wall. It seemed endless, no matter which way they looked.

Troyka: "It may not look like it, but this crater is round."

What...?

The invisible wall was so large that it appeared straight, but in reality it was slightly curved.

Troyka: "In short, it's the product of a cosmic explosion."

An explosion did that...? What kind of weapon did they use?

Troyka: "Lucia was a minor deity who fought in the war between humans and monsters. She couldn't control her power well, so, fighting to the limit, she died in an explosion that destroyed both factions."

A minor deity did that? Wait a second, I think I remember something about this...

Troyka: "It's the largest known divine crater outside of Ucathia. Well, we humans still don't know much about Netherith, since it's dominated by the monsters that survived the war. And the Abyss, well..."

It's a fairy tale! They taught it in school so that children would learn self-control. And... maybe to despise deities...

Troyka: "Well, it's ironic, isn't it?"

Hm?

Troyka: "Ucathia was once the center of humanity, until it vanished from the map. But Siffren is mostly dominated by humans, right? How come humanity didn't lose to the monsters, even though they were stronger and more numerous?"

When you stop to think about it... it's strange.

Troyka: "The deities! They have always been on humanity's side. So, even when we were about to become extinct, they protected us! Then, humanity began to grow again for hundreds of years, until we reached where we are now. There you go, did you enjoy my history lesson?"

Wait... the deities...?

Troyka: "Is something wrong? Didn't you understand something?"

They are the reason we are alive, but... what about the crater? And the Ucathia disaster? It doesn't make sense...

The boy smiled when he realized Cliff was tense.

Troyka: "It's tragic, isn't it? Humanity wouldn't exist without gods, but what about the other way around?"

Huh? What do you mean?

Troyka: "Maybe... they're our allies for a reason. I'm just saying I wouldn't ally with someone if I had nothing to gain from it."

The gods, they...

Troyka: "So humans are just as important as monsters, demons, and deities. History wouldn't exist without them all; we are all necessary."

Humans and deities I can understand, but monsters and demons...? What purpose do they serve other than to cause suffering? I've lived my whole life without encountering any, so they've never been necessary.

Troyka: "Hey, Cliff, what do you think about monsters and demons? Are they like us? Do they have lives like ours?"

Of course not... they suck the souls of the damned as if they were food... Wait, what if they need it to survive? What if I need it to survive now?!

Troyka: "Cliff?"

The half-demon was stressed and nervous. Troyka wasn't scared, but rather confused.

Cursed be the god or goddess who cursed me! If they didn't exist, wouldn't the other races exist either? Would hell never exist if they hadn't created it?!

Troyka: "Are you okay, man? Calm down, I don't want to see your other form right now."

You're right, I'm sorry...

Cliff calmed down. As they circled the giant crater, it seemed like it would never end. The circumference was so absurdly large that even a plane would take hours to go around it. The boy was starting to get anxious.

Troyka: "Argh, you can't be serious!"

He snapped impatiently.

Troyka: "Cliff, I have bad news. We won't have enough fuel to reach Siffren. However... there's a city nearby. Should we land there and search for more power cells?

Cliff nodded.

Troyka: "Sorry, Cliff. I didn't remember that the Lucia Crater would be in the way..."

Why are you apologizing? I am more than grateful to have someone by my side... Huh...? Wait.

Cliff pointed to a spot on the surface. The boy tried to see what it was. It was a huge hole, but this time, man-made. There were many layers leading down to the deepest point.

Troyka: "If memory serves... that's an excavation site, isn't it? What do you see there?"

The man pointed to the aircraft's interface and made a hand gesture indicating the action of removing and inserting something.

Troyka: "Do you think there are bysteen power cells down there?"

Cliff made the "so-so" gesture, as if there were some connection.

Troyka: "Digging to find bysteen...? Wait, do you mean the raw material? The bysteen itself?"

The mute man nodded, giving a thumbs-up. The boy laughed.

Troyka: "Wait, I think there might be a misunderstanding here... Bysteen can only be found in the Abyss."

Wait, really?! Then how is it everywhere, even in the capital?

Troyka: "Wait, you've given me an idea."

He pointed to the excavation site.

Troyka: "We can mine some valuable ores, then head to the city market and buy some power cells. What do you think?"

Cliff nodded, giving a thumbs-up again.

Sounds great. But wait, how long is this going to take?

They landed on the sand, nearby. The air was thick with impurities, which the boy managed to avoid thanks to his mask. However, that wouldn't last forever.

They started walking toward the dirt ramp, until Cliff stopped, thoughtful. He pointed at the aircraft and made the gesture of someone starting the engine. The boy tried to understand him, which took him some time. He thought and thought, his mind racing.

Cliff wrote something on the ground: "What if someone steals it?"

Troyka: "Oh, so that's what you meant! Sorry, I'm still new to human interactions. Well, half-human ones..."

The boy took a key from his pocket and waved it in the air.

Troyka: "No one will be able to start it without the key. And if they try to break it down and steal its components... Well, let's just try not to take too long."

Cliff gave a thumbs-up. They went down into the huge crater and saw many people moving about with small carts and loads of rock and ore. They were carrying pickaxes, too.

Wait, I don't have a tool...

Troyka stopped when he saw a sturdy, middle-aged man with an magnificent mustache. He was bald and exuded confidence. He was standing at a table cluttered with tools, right by the entrance to a mine. Troyka pointed his thumb toward him, a smirk playing on his lips.

Troyka: "Shall we?"

He approached the man with a friendly smile.

Troyka: "So... how does this work, exactly?"

"You mine some ores," the man said promptly, "and then you sell them to me. Sounds simple enough?"

Wow, straight to the point.

Troyka: "Yeah! But how will we know how much they're worth?"

The man took a chart from under the table and placed it on top. It was a list of various types of minerals and the value in coins of every 100 grams of each. Troyka examined it more closely, squinting. The most valuable one was reddish-brown. It resembled bronze.

Troyka: "So there's besterith here..."

Besterith...? Another name I don't recognize.

"This excavation site focuses primarily on besterith," the man confirmed. "Do you mind if I ask you a question? Aren't you too young to be here?"

Troyka: "I'm not the one doing all the work."

He patted Cliff on the shoulder.

Wait, what?

"Your friend?" asked the sturdy fellow. "Isn't he a little quiet?"

Troyka: "He's just shy; don't worry about it."

"If you don't mind me asking," the man continued, "what happened... to his body?"

The man kept his hand hovering over his own body, indicating which parts of Cliff were strange. His left arm was covered by a red carapace, and his heart — red and black — was clearly visible. The left side of his head was scorched.

Wait, this is bad... the inhabitants of Siffren aren't used to seeing this... kind of stuff...

Troyka: "Oh, this? He's just wearing armor so he doesn't hurt his fragile arm."

The friendly man stared at them for a while, with an unreadable expression. "If you say so," he said after a long pause. "Before we begin, please sign here." 

He held out an open notebook and a pen. "As for the terms of the agreement, you must bring all the ores you find to me and trade them. If you hold anything back for yourselves or manage to leave the cave without coming to me first, you will be permanently banned from doing business with me. Please sign if you agree to these terms."

Sounds professional enough. Just like that cursed capital...

They signed with their real names: Justin Troyka and Cliff Cypher.

"Then, you can start whenever you're ready," said the bald man as he put away his notebook and pen. "You can each take a pickaxe, but make sure to return it when you're finished."

Troyka: "We won't be needing those. I have a better tool in my backpack."

The boy refused the offer with a wave of his hand.

Wait, really? I wonder what it looks like...

"I don't mind what tool you use," the man replied, "as long as you let me inspect your backpack after you finish."

Troyka: "S-Seriously...?"

"I'm sorry, but the procedures are necessary," the supervisor emphasized. He stood with his arms crossed, like an impassable wall. Troyka finally gave in, after trembling at the mere thought of someone messing with his things.

Troyka: "You know what? I'll wait outside. Go on, Cliff — do what you do best!"

Me?! You're not going to do anything?

The boy brought his mouth close to Cliff's ear to whisper something.

Troyka: "You still owe me, remember? And remember not to use any tools — just your hands."

Just my hands...? And how am I supposed to do that?!

The boy stepped back with a venomous smile.

Troyka: "Good luck, friend!"

Cliff hesitated but stepped forward, eyeing the pickaxe that called out to him. He looked back; the boy was still there, watching him. Finally, he gave in and entered the mine.

It was very dark inside. His eyes hadn't adjusted yet, so he was effectively blind for a few seconds, until the rocky walls finally became visible. It was narrow, just like the alleys of his hometown. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, as if his heart were about to explode. He sank to his knees, clutching his chest with one hand and his head with the other. Because the difference in lighting between the inside and the outside was so stark, no one could see him suffering.

A million voices flooded his mind, vying for his consciousness. He saw multiple lives in the blink of an eye, as if he had lived them himself. He tried to focus on his goals and push those thoughts away, but they were too intense. He had to endure them for a while, until the intensity gradually subsided. It was still uncomfortable, but now he could finally stand up and walk.

There were many torches fixed to the wall, dimly illuminating the path. But he thought of Troyka's words. He shouldn't use any tools. He could certainly do that, but doing so would tarnish his honor — especially since he needed to repay, in some way, the debt he owed the boy. Besides... if he had to face those thoughts every time he plunged into the darkness, it would be quite problematic. He needed to win the battle against his inner demon.

He took heavy steps, one at a time. He was in a hurry to see his family, but it would all be pointless if he transformed upon meeting them. His eyes were now adjusted to the darkness. As he ventured further into the darkness, something began to call to him. It was a strange energy. He felt... drawn to it.

It lay beyond the rocky walls. He paused to try and listen through the surface, but absolute silence reigned. He touched the rocks — nothing reacted. He was now standing before two tunnels, between which he had to choose. He took the one on the right, as he sensed a stronger presence there. Now, he could hear a ticking sound.

Something was glowing there. Upon entering the chamber, he saw lights of various colors. It was a relatively large cavern, filled with shimmering crystals. Many miners were striking the rock with their pickaxes and gathering ore. One of them noticed Cliff and squinted, trying to make out what he was seeing. Then, he recoiled in alarm, pointing at him.

"A demon!" he shouted, alerting the other miners. They turned to look at Cliff, who stood there in a trance. He could barely hear or see anything, as his mind was clouded by that strange energy — which was far more intense there.

What is this...? I feel strange...

He took a step; the other miners backed away. "S-Stop right there, demon!" one of them shouted, pointing his pickaxe at him. Cliff’s body didn't stop. He approached a blue crystal on the wall and touched it, feeling an intense energy flow through him.

Ugh! What is this doing to me?!

He clutched his chest, feeling pain, as all the energy flowed toward that single point. The crystal slowly lost its glow as he regained consciousness. He stared at the miners, who were still frightened and furious. The strange energy did not cease, but now Cliff could clearly see what was happening. He saw a reddish-brown crystal that resembled bronze.

Is this besterith...?

That crystal appeared to be the most abundant ore in the region, as listed in the price table. Although common, it was the most valuable.

Come to think of it, could this be a geode...?

He looked around, trying to recognize the place.

There are plenty of other crystals here... But something tells me I should get more besterith.

He approached the brown crystal and touched it. He felt an instant surge of energy within his body, as if he were about to explode. It wasn't the same energy as before — it hurt far more. He clutched his chest again and fell to his knees, fighting to stay conscious. The miners looked at each other, frightened. One of them slowly stood up, while the others nodded.

A demon cannot steal what is ours by right! — he thought.

He crept up behind Cliff and swung his pickaxe at his head, attempting to kill him. The tool’s tip snapped upon impact, shattering into pieces. The miner fell back onto his haunches, startled. Cliff could no longer control his own body — the demon within him had taken command. After what seemed like the blink of an eye, he was once again standing before the fork in the path.

Huh...? What am I doing here...?

He had the feeling he had seen those tunnels before. He looked at his hand: he was holding a besterith crystal, but it no longer glowed. It looked like an ordinary stone. He gazed at the right path, deep in thought.

I’ve been there before, haven’t I...? I should look for more besterith...

He turned left, walking slowly and feeling dizzy. For some reason, he felt a strange attraction to that ore — the kind that made him lose his senses. It was almost like a drug. As he moved through the darkness, he finally found the miner who was excavating the tunnel. Cliff was still in a trance, so he kept walking. The man was terrified but had no way to escape, as the corridor was too narrow.

Cliff instinctively extended his claws and pointed them at the innocent worker. The miner quickly slipped between his legs and fled. The half-demon struck the wall with his claws, carving a path. They were far more powerful than a regular pickaxe, so the cave began to shake as the ground beneath his feet split open. He fell into a new cavern, teeming with besterith. 

The next thing he remembered was an intense light searing his eyes. He dropped to his knees, shielding his sight with his hand. Now, he was out in the open. The bald man was watching him intently but said nothing. Troyka was sitting near the entrance, resting. Cliff screamed as if his skin were on fire. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally regained his senses.

Troyka: "Cliff? What happened?"

As the half-demon slowly rose, he clutched his head again. He opened his other hand, revealing several pieces of besterith ore; none of them emitted any glow.

"What is that?" the bald man asked, confused. "Stone?"

Cliff pointed to the image of the besterith on the chart.

"Besterith?" the man said, indignant. "What are you talking about? These are just some worthless pebbles."

Cliff handed the stones to him, gesturing for him to examine them more closely. The man picked up a monocle and examined them for a few seconds. He frowned, puzzled. He placed them on a scale to measure their weight.

"Strange..." he said, trying to make sense of the situation. "This is drained besterith. It shouldn't lose its luster before undergoing a lengthy mana extraction process... How did you find it?"

Cliff shrugged, as if he didn't know. 

The bald man sighed. "It's not that I want to be an asshole or anything like that, but..." he warned, "drained besterith isn't worth much. It needs to be glowing to have value."

Troyka: "Seriously...?"

The boy had an exhausted voice, even though he was sitting down. He didn't look well.

"Yeah..." the trader confirmed. "So, either you go there and find shiny ores, or this job won't earn you more than a few copper coins."

Troyka: "You can't be serious..."

Cliff took a slow breath and, after a few seconds, nodded. He entered the mine again. He felt lucid once more, but was beginning to remember what had happened. 

Upon reaching the fork, he chose the path to the right to find the answer he needed. He caught a very strong scent that made him feel nauseous. The colorful lights became visible as he entered the cave. There was no one there anymore. No one alive, at least.

Cliff was dumbfounded. He could do nothing but stare in disbelief. His body and mind felt heavy as he recalled what had happened after touching the besterith crystal there. His memories were jumbled and intermingled with someone else's, as if he had experienced the event from that person's perspective.

Did I...

He stepped back slowly, trying to compose himself. He knew that shouting wouldn't help, so he tried to get away from the scene.

Wait...

He couldn't change the past, but he had a mission: to collect crystals. Trying not to make any noise, he approached the ores and picked them up one by one, except for the blue one and the besterith. It was those that made him feel strange, so he avoided them.

He emerged from the mine again, the sun burning his eyes and skin once more. But now, he had a goal in mind. Troyka tried to stand up but stumbled and fell.

"Geez, what is wrong with you guys?" the bald man asked, concerned.

Cliff’s eyes hadn’t yet adjusted, but he poured a handful of crystals onto the table, determined to shake off those negative thoughts. The dealer placed the minerals on the scale and weighed them. Troyka waited beside Cliff.

"2 kg, eh?" said the man, impressed. "That’s equivalent to about two gold coins. Congratulations, adventurer."

Troyka: "Wait a second..."

The boy leaned against the table, nearly falling. Only then did Cliff notice his friend wasn't wearing the mask. He was breathing heavily, struggling to stay on his feet.

Troyka: "Would you mind explaining your calculations to me...?"

"Hm?" the bald man murmured, confused. "Sure." He pointed to the scale, which showed the same weight he had announced. Then, he showed the chart again. The scale specified the price and weight of each ore, calculating the result.

Troyka: "The scale is not the problem... neither is the chart... Did you think I wouldn't notice just because I'm not feeling well...?"

"I'm not sure I'm following," the man with the mustache remarked. "Could you explain it to me, please?"

Troyka: "The weight of the crystals might vary, but not that much... I just took a quick look at what Cliff was holding; it wasn't just 2 kg!"

"The scale says otherwise," the man reaffirmed.

Troyka: "You're hiding another two kilos or so!"

The man stared at the boy with a blank expression. "I am offended that you accuse me of being a thief," he said, incredulous.

Troyka: "Cliff, inspect him."

"Wait a second, you can't do that!" exclaimed the man, feeling cornered.

Troyka: "See? You wouldn't resist if you weren't hiding something."

"How can I be sure you wouldn't try to mug me?!" he snapped.

Troyka: "Well... you could call a guard."

Nervously, the man glared defiantly at the boy. Troyka gave a smirk. He sighed, finally giving in and placing the rest of the crystals on the scale. "I have a family to feed too, you know?" he said, trying to elicit some sympathy.

Troyka: "That doesn't excuse theft, you know? What a shame... just when I thought you'd be friendly..."

The scale finished calculating the weight and the value. The man shoved four gold coins into a pouch and tossed it onto the table. "There you have it, four gold coins," he announced, sounding a bit irritated. "Are you happy now?"

Troyka: "More than happy. It was a pleasure to make business with you, my friend."

The boy grabbed the pouch as he offered a handshake, which the man accepted reluctantly.

Cliff and Troyka climbed the sand ramp toward the aircraft. Cliff was still traumatized, so he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. The boy, however, was growing more exhausted with every step. Upon reaching the plane, he stumbled and fell to the dirt ground, coughing.

The man, startled, snapped out of his thoughts and reached out to help the boy. He also kept his hand hovering near his own mouth, mimicking a mask. Troyka accepted the help and slowly stood up.

Troyka: "You're asking why I'm not wearing the mask...?"

He took a deep breath, his mind a bit sluggish.

Troyka: "It's not that the breather is out of power... I just wanted to train my lungs to... you know... breathe properly on the surface, without needing a device..."

Cliff looked concerned.

Troyka: "I know, I sound crazy, right? But I forced you to train your body... it’s only fair I do the same... I don’t want to be dead weight, you know...?"

Cliff grabbed the boy's mask, which was attached to his backpack, and put it on his face. Troyka took a deep breath, feeling much more relieved. The man wagged his index finger, signaling him not to do that again.

Troyka: "I was being selfish, wasn't I...?"

The boy jumped into the aircraft's pilot seat, waving to his friend.

Troyka: "Shall we?"

They flew toward the nearest town. The boy pointed to a specific spot in the town.

Troyka: "A fair! There must be energy cells there!"

As soon as they landed on the flat grass, he jumped out.

Troyka: "Same as before: we can't leave the aircraft unattended for too long. But I can't let you go alone, because, you know... I'm your translator and all..."

They walked through the bustling town. It was nowhere near as large as the capital, yet it boasted all the kinds of establishments one would expect to find in a town. They headed straight for the open-air market. Dozens of people were milling about, but something — or rather, someone — caught their attention more than anything else.

Everyone stared at Cliff and Troyka. The former, well, for an obvious reason. But the boy drew attention because of his outfit and the gigantic machine he carried on his back. There were many fruit stalls. "Come and try some!" said one of the vendors, inviting passersby — especially Troyka, who looked wealthy. "I'm sure you'll like it!"

Cliff felt uneasy, as if he were being judged — especially after what had just happened.

Was it really my fault...?

Troyka: "This reminds me of my old home. Chaotic and..."

Catching something out of the corner of his eye, the boy ran toward a random stall, trying to get a closer look. There were many devices on display, ranging from...

Troyka: "Power cells!"

Cliff brushed aside the negative thoughts and followed the boy. "Oh, so you're after these?" the shopkeeper asked. He was a middle-aged man — ordinary-looking and slightly overweight. He smiled at the boy. "We have all kinds of power cells — small, medium, and heavy!" he said, as he grabbed a large one from under the counter.

Troyka: "A heavy one?! How much does it cost?"

"Since you're still a child, I'll give you a special price," the shopkeeper announced cheerfully. "It's five gold coins!"

Troyka: "Five gold coins?!"

The boy's smile faded. He looked at Cliff as if he were his father.

"Since you seem so eager to get it, how about a discount?" the man continued. "For you, it'll cost four gold coins!"

"How long are you going to let him pull a fast one on you?" a female voice was heard behind them.

They turned around. It was a beautiful woman, wearing a black suit and a top hat, and holding an elegant cane. Her hair was rainbow-colored. Her smile curved upward in the middle, like a cat's.

"W-Who are you?" asked the shopkeeper, confused.

"I am a messenger of the great Cabbit," she said, spinning around like a magician. "What was I saying again? Oh, right — the power cell. Hey, you, kid — looks like you know how this works, don't you?"

Troyka pointed at himself, confused.

"You're the only boy here, aren't you?" she teased, lightly touching the tip of his nose. "You should know better than anyone how much a heavy bysteen power cell costs."

Troyka: "Well... this is my first time buying something, so..."

“And you announce that out loud so that scumbag shopkeeper can hear and take advantage of you?” she blurted out, shrugging. “Listen, the market price for a heavy power cell is just one gold coin.”

They looked at the merchant, seeking confirmation. He stepped back and looked away, nervous. An awkward silence fell.

Thanks to her help, they bought one heavy power cell and many small ones.

Troyka: "Thank you, ma'am!"

She took something out of the pocket of her suit: a very thin object, resembling a card. She handed it to Cliff. "As I announced earlier, I am a messenger of the great Cabbit," she said. "We are recruiting monstrosities to participate in the Tournament of Horrors, taking place soon!"

Monstrosities...?

Cliff examined the information on the card more closely. It was sleek and black, with rainbow-colored accents that gave the impression of a connection to circuses and magicians.

Wait, she's talking about me?! I'm not a monstrosity!

"You must be thinking, 'Why are you looking for monsters in Siffren?'" she added, then playfully stuck out her tongue. "Because it's more fun that way! The rarer they are, the more unique!"

Troyka: "Where are you from, miss?"

"I, just like the great Cabbit and the tournament, am from Azareth!" she replied cheerfully.

Troyka: "Azareth?! The land of the half-breeds?"

"Exactly!" she confirmed as she turned around and showed off her colorful cat tail. Troyka stroked it as if hypnotized.

Troyka: "So how do you manage to speak Siffren's language?"

"Messengers are also translators!" she announced proudly.

Troyka continued stroking her tail, since she didn't mind. Then, he refocused on what mattered.

Troyka: "What is the tournament about?"

"It's a competition where all the abominations fight for first place!" she replied promptly.

I'm not an abomination...

"Then..." she added, "the winner earns the privilege of meeting the great Cabbit herself and asking her for a favor!"

A favor...?

"Money, fame, connections..." she continued, "answers, illusions — perhaps even blessings or curses!"

Blessings...?

Cliff finally saw a chance to cure his "illness."

Troyka: "Is she really that powerful?"

"Absolutely!" the cat-girl confirmed. "Humans and monsters from all over the planet come to Azareth to watch the tournament! She isn't just an illusionist or a magician; she can also forge contracts with entire nations — including churches and centers of devotion!"

Does she know what's happening to me...? Can she speak to the goddess who did this to me...?

"Well, I'll be staying in this town for a while before I leave," she said, "so you can find me if you have any questions. The card has contact information, too. I'm going to look for another monstrosity. See ya at the tournament!"

She left, releasing a cloud of smoke and transforming into a black cat that vanished into the crowd.

Troyka: "She was a real cat?!"