When called upon, the collars of Pit slaves would warm up. Letting them know to report to showcase themselves where potential buyers could see them. It was a warning that they had three days to appear before the collars would shrink. Were it not around her own neck, Amari believed it to be interesting in a macabre way. Magic had once been a thing of wonder, fulfilment, and dream-like innocence of hers at a young age. Now though, she despised magic. Mages were always the first to die on the battlefield if she could get to them. They were arguably the most dangerous combatant to deal with. But she found a sickening satisfaction watching them realize that fancy fireballs and bolts of lightning from their fingers couldn’t save them.


    A sudden movement of rocks caused her to draw two knives, looking down another tunnel. Flint followed her movements, raising a torch up high while raising a small hand crossbow. They waited for a moment, watching as a set of two small eyes watched them from said tunnel mouth. They waited for a moment before lowering their weapons. “Wasp, you can’t sneak up on us like that.” Flint said with a heavy sigh.


    From the tunnel mouth came a young human, he couldn’t have been more than sixteen winters at most. His hair was disheveled and long, covered in dirt, dust, and dried blood. His brown eyes searched Flint and Amari, while his scraggly arms scratched at open sores. His dried lips seemed painful and cracked, but he barely noticed as he cleared his throat. “Just keeping an eye on you, someone said you heard info,” the boy started.


    “Well of course, that’s why you-” Flint stopped as Amari marched past him towards Wasp.


    The boy seemed confused before taking a step back. He seemed fearful and gasped as Amari raised a hand towards him. He shut his eyes, waiting. No matter the bond, in the tunnels it was eat or be eaten, and Wasp was ready to be struck for sneaking around any spying. Yet instead of the pain he was used to from others, he felt a gentle hand upon his head. It stroked his hair and caused him to slowly open his eyes. He was greeted with the sight of Amari now trying to straighten his hair with both hands. She frowned at a patch of dry blood keeping some clumps together. “Yours?” She asked.


    “Uh… No. Water thief. Don’t remember his name, ma’am.” Wasp stuttered out. He cleared his throat and coughed. “I-I’m ok, promise.”


    Amari clicked her tongue in annoyance before shoving an old dusty water skin into Wasp’s chest. “Drink, or else.” She stated. Even as Wasp slowly took the water skin, Amari continued trying to straighten his hair. Her tired eyes scanning for clumps of debris from the tunnels, or dried blood, and carefully removing them.


    “You don’t have to do-” Wasp started before shutting up. Amari’s glare was enough to keep him quiet and drinking instead. The cool refreshing taste was a godsend. Even if the water came from deep in the tunnels, it was better than the water rations they got elsewhere.


    “I keep telling you, Wasp. You can’t tell her not to. Now how’d you hear about me hearing things?” He inquired.


    Wasp hungrily drank every last drop, coughing loudly and gasping for air when he was done. Upon realizing what he had done, he sheepishly handed Amari the water skin back. “I’m sorry I… I was thirsty and-” her hands moved to gently take the water skin back, and with the grace of one fluid movement she placed it back on a rope belt keeping her rags on.


    “Good. I told you, it’s fine.” Amari said with a more gentle tone before stepping away. It was in no way pretty, nor presentable, but Wasp’s hair was at least better than before. No clumps of dried blood, or less at least, and much less debris from the mining tunnels.


    “I will still never get used to that.” Wasp looked to her before returning his attention to Flint. “I heard things in the Nexus. Lots of others, mostly Rank and File, were talking about how you were buttering up the Magus and his guests. They think you’ve gone soft.” He added with a playful smirk. Though he quickly panicked as he heard Amari tightening her first. “B-But it’s all talk of course! You know how we Rank and File are. One starts a rumor because they’re jealous, and suddenly everyone heard something worth a ration bar or sip of water. Not me though, absolutely not!” Wasp added, relaxing as he saw Amari calm down.


    “Well, I wish the Rank and File luck, but this is Specialist business.” Flint stated before starting to leave. “Stay outta trouble, Wasp, and don’t take jobs with Boomer anymore.”


    “What? How could you tell?!” He yelled as Flint had already left.


    Amari reached up and rubbed Wasp’s head. Even if he was taller than her, she performed this gesture with a practiced hand, like that of a caregiver so few down here even remembered having. “You have bruises on your arms, Wasp. Boomer is a bad man. Work for Agatha instead. She likes you.” Amari said. Even with the usual absence of emotion, Wasp could hear something close to care in her words.


    “It’s just… Boomer pays better. I get a ration bag every other day.” Wasp sheepishly replied before Amari removed her hand. It was an involuntary twitch as he moved his head towards her hand if only by a centimeter, but then he quickly pulled back.


    Amari nodded. “I know. But you can’t eat if you’re dead. Please, for me. Work with Agatha instead.”


    There was a moment of silence before Wasp nodded. “I’ll… Look into it.”


    With that, Amari left Wasp who returned back to the tunnels he’d come from. She caught up with Flint, her fiendish eyes easily able to see in the dark and find the light of his torch. Once together, they made their way through quite a journey of tunnels. Every now and again other slaves would be passed. Patrol groups getting their training in to stay fit, mining crews or excavating crews searching for valuable ores, gems, or lost relics in the vast ruins. This place of slavery had been around for nearly three hundred years, Amari had been told, and yet still these ruins stretched ever further underground. Maybe they went on forever. Or maybe the monsters underground killed crews too quickly so they hadn’t made nearly as much progress.


    Every interaction was different though. Not all these slaves had been raised from childhood. Some were war criminals, convicted, or simply unlucky. Some threatened them, some made crude comments, one even tried their luck to rob them. He lay in two pieces now, as food for whatever creature would skulk through the tunnels. His friends merely left him, not wanting to fight any further. It was survival of the fittest, and thriving of the cruelest down in these winding paths. Still, Amari was grateful for the strange flora that grew along the tunnel walls. Glowing patches of fungus and moss made it easier for Flint to see, and gave them both a better chance at making it to the Nexus.


    But you can see in the dark, can’t you, demon?


    That voice again. Amari pondered for a moment if it was a real voice. She’d told Flint of the voice about a year ago. He was smart, the Master invested in his education to ensure he was valuable. Flint told her that so many years alone meant it was a fake voice. She didn’t remember the condition, but she did recall that over a decade alone in this hell forced her brain to make up a voice. That’s what he told her. A fake voice.


    Am I fake?


    Of course it was. Flint knew better. But then again, why did she remember this voice even as a child? Too many questions filled her head, but thankfully ceased the moment Flint whistled softly to get her attention. Amari perked up seeing a great deal of light coming from the end of the tunnel they walked through. “We’re here,” he said while moving to give her room to stand with him at the tunnel entrance.


    Sin. Excess. How fun.


    Indeed it was. Here at the center of it all where new slaves arrived. Where the rich friends of the Magus came to view merchandise, and where many survived. The Nexus. A large open area deep underground. High above the rock ceiling were a maze of tunnels and stone bridges leading elsewhere. A large hole above was blocked by machinery that allowed only a trickle of light to breach through. This great machinery was a lift, a way down into the stone city beneath it. Tons of lights burned fuel down in this otherwise darkened maze, with dozens of buildings making a rudimentary city of the poor and oppressed.


    More of a town, really.


    What was the difference? She didn’t care to humor the voice. It was a city as far as she was concerned. As Flint and Amari walked through its congested streets, hundreds of slaves offered up their contraband, their finds in the ruins, a brothel even had a few offering their bodies. A small number of wealthy nobles wandered with heavily armed guards. Every now and again they would reach out and grab a slave to examine the merchandise, causing Amari to pull at the patchwork mask on her rags. She had to cover her face. Food arrived here, and work crews traded their finds for the chance to eat, drink, and find comfort in the arms of those paid to give them a night away from the pain. To her it might as well be the capital of the world.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Contraband of weapons, drugs, small pieces of armor, there were many things to be found and bought down here. All approved by the Magus and his Overseers of course. You wouldn’t find thunderstaves or magic wands here. But a decent axe versus the shivs Amari had on her person could make all the difference. Deep in the alleyways she saw many crimes that were simply the norm in their subterranean home. Murder, extortion, worse. All she could do was look away and follow close behind Flint, her mind preoccupied with ignoring the stench of sulfur, human waste, and the fires of forges down here; Forges that churned out ingots and materials for the Master above them on the surface world. There were a few vigilantes that roamed the streets, hoping to make the Nexus safer than it was. There were also many vigilantes rotting away in corners, or even a few hung from the buildings of those with power.


    Fools. Heroics are so overrated.


    No they weren’t. Heroes were… Well Heroes were something. She couldn’t quite recall what, and sighed as the thought slipped away from her. Flint and Amari soon stopped in front of a decent looking stone building. It had an actual wooden door on the front of it. “Velvet’s Tea House,” Flint said as he read the sign up front. Amari looked up at the scribbles on the sign, kicking herself for not being able to read it as well as she wanted. The Magus had cultivated her fighting abilities. She could read a map, fight a troll, or carry heavy things. Reading signs and books had not been one of these skills, and though Flint tried to teach her, it proved difficult with a lack of resources.


    “V…E…L,” She started sounding out the letters. “Vel…Vet… What’s that one after that last T?” She asked.


    “Apostrophe, you don’t pronounce it.” Flint nodded. “You’re doing great.”


    Just then, the sound of fighting erupted from the place. Flint moved to grab the door handle, opened it, and moved out of the way. As if on queue, a large green skinned man was flung out. He slammed into Amari, who was barely pushed back a centimeter or two at most, and the man hit the ground with a hard thud. Amari looked down and blinked as the sight of this large Orchish brute on the ground seemed quite absurd. She looked up at the doorway to see a human man, extremely well built and probably more muscle than anything else. He patted the dust off his hands and scoffed. “Mind your manners next time, you oaf.” His voice and accent flowed like a Northern princeling. Rural with just enough sophistication it clashed together like something absurd.


    A Pig in a clean cape?


    The voice said, causing Amari to snort audibly. She would have to use that one later. She saw as the human moved aside to make way for another person. A middle aged looking woman, with a curious pair of fox ears sprouting from her head. Her garb seemed nicer than the rags many wore, but was quite revealing. Her hair and ears both had a silvery white color to them that stood out amidst the dark stone building. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at the man at Amari’s feet. “Next time you show your face here you better bring more to trade you ingrate! I’m running a business, my girls ain’t free!” She shouted. She then looked up at Amari staring at her, and suddenly brightened up as if she’d seen the sun for the first time. “Amari dearest is that you?!”


    Oh great, she’s going to hug you.


    You? Wouldn’t it be us? The voice was far too active recently. The Orchish man slurred his words and began to rise up, but was soon pushed back into the mud and stone as Amari stepped on him, walked forward, and approached the woman. “Hello Velvet, are you well?”


    The woman jumped passed a step or two and pulled Amari into a warm embrace. It wasn’t unpleasant, but Amari didn’t care for physical touch from many people. Velvet got a free pass, if only because she never stopped trying. It was simply easier not to fight it. She felt the woman’s hand stroke through her hair, and heard her hum happily. “Oh I’m doing well, it’s so good to see you again! You never visit. We still need to finish our game, I have some rare teas we can try as well. Oh and there’s so much to talk about, did you know-” It was already overwhelming.


    Suddenly Flint cleared his throat. Velvet turned to see him and frowned, sighed exasperated, and looked him up and down. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t come to the Nexus on your own. Amari darling you have got to get away from this vagabond. Come live with me, you could work here!”


    “I’m not a whore.” Amari stated bluntly.


    “Escort, darling, escort. Whore is such an ugly word. Besides I’m afraid with your strength you’d snap half my clients in… Well… Half. No, no, come be a guard for me! A bouncer! Lance here could use the backup.” Velvet continued. Though she pulled away, she kept her hands on Amari’s shoulders and looked her in the eye hoping for a good answer.


    “No. I don’t like it here. Too many people. It’s too loud.” She said bluntly yet again. But then quickly shook her head. “Sorry. I mean… No thank you, I appreciate it.” It took effort and she sighed after correcting herself.


    “Oh sweetheart,” Velvet clapped her hands together lightly. “You’re learning manners so well! Who’s teaching you?”


    “That’d be me,” Flint said with a grin.


    “Flint darling, why don’t you be a dear and go pick up some pickled goods from Vincent’s little grocer?” Velvet asked cheerfully.


    “That’s half way across the Nexus.” He folded his arms as he watched Velvet stare at him with a smile. As if it was obvious.


    “Yes.” She finally stated.


    Amari cleared her throat. “Be nice. He gave you running water. He’s my comrade.” Friend was still an ugly word down here. Comrade worked better. They were both soldiers after all.


    Velvet nodded and smiled warmly at Amari. “Oh dear how could I deny you. What brings you both here anyways?”


    “Flint.” Amari stated before rubbing her throat. Talking too much was annoying.


    “There’s an auction coming up more than likely. We’re aiming to get a little sunshine away from here.” Flint replied.


    “Oh Amari, you need to talk more and get used to it. You can’t go relying on Flint to speak for you forever.” Velvet said with a honeyed voice. It was sultry by her vocation, but was sweet and warm to the ears. She spoke while looking at Amari with a bit of a pout. Amari simply blinked and waited in silence for Flint to continue. “Ha, and they say you can’t tell jokes.” Velvet turned away to look at Flint and then nodded towards the inside, not noticing as Amari raised a brow at that remark. She could tell jokes, she was funny. Right? “Come on in. Tell me all about it.”


    As they entered the establishment, Amari took in the sights. Three barely clothed human women dancing proactively. Their collars loosely jangled around their necks as a dozen or so men hollered and whistled, throwing dried food or metal ore at their feet. Money wasn’t used in the tunnels, but people always found a way to pay something. The stone tables, stone chairs, stone everything. Wood was such a luxury that the fact Velvet had a wood door was something impressive all its own. She didn’t understand why Rank and File seemed so interested in nakedness. Specialists like her and Flint usually had it, and their personalities, trained out of them. There were anomalies, like Flint’s more laxed personality, but for the most part the concept of sex was foreign and uncared for.


    Velvet led them to a backroom, whispering something to her Bouncer who nodded. He turned and let Amari and Flint pass before returning to the show room floor. Amari caught sight of the man Lance’s brand, marking him as a Specialist, but couldn’t see his numbers. She guessed he was also a Seven like her. Or maybe he was a Two. Two’s usually wore the heaviest armor and carried massive shields. He looked strong enough for the task.


    He’d be a good kill.


    Amari shook her head and focused. The room they were brought to was more of a small office. A metal desk, some holes in the wall carved out for some trinkets and a handful of books. Candle light kept the room bright enough that Velvet and Flint could see. They all sat together around a small metal table where Velvet poured some sort of alcohol into three dirty glass cups. It was the height of luxury, and Amari thanked whatever God watched over her for the chance to drink again. “So tell me, what’s the plan this time?” Velvet started after getting comfortable.


    Time passed and Velvet, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol they’d all been drinking for at least an hour now, chuckled. “That’s your plan? Get hired to guard a little pig of a Count, and then break your collars and run? What about the Catchers the Magus uses? Bounty Hunters? Do you even have a map of the world yet?” She inquired.


    “One step at a time Velvet. Count Odvos probably has a map at his estate. I’ve been perfecting the method too. I can crack the collar off.” Flint said confidently.


    “Perfecting? How?” Velvet raised her brow.


    Flint shrugged. “Find a dead Rank and File, practice taking it off before the collar snaps the neck.


    “Oh? And how fast are you going? Any success?” She further inquired while sipping her drink.


    “It’s our best shot.” Flint retorted before leaning back on the dusty cushions of the couch Velvet had no doubt paid a lot for.


    Sex Sells.


    That damned voice again. Since when did it talk so much? Every word was like a headache in itself that suddenly sprung up. “I don’t really care either way. I’m tired of these tunnels. Anywhere is better than here.” Amari said softly before sipping her drink again. Her mutations, her enhancements, her body was barely its old self anymore. She didn’t feel the warmth of the alcohol for more than a moment. Tipsy and drunk were foreign concepts she’d never experienced. Maybe she just needed to drink more? There wasn’t much to drink so it wasn’t worth trying.


    “Oh honey, I know you wanna go anywhere with him, but you know the world isn’t some fairytale. It’s hard out there. I spent decades traveling before I got captured, trust me. It’s awful.


    “Is this any better?” Flint asked, annoyed at her response.


    Velvet thought for a moment, then sighed. “No I suppose not. I just worry you’ll both get yourselves killed.”


    “Blessed are those that perish to the sword of their choosing, than the sword of those that have chosen for them,” Amari said, her words flowing with a trained response, causing Velvet to roll her eyes.


    “You let Kriv train you too well. Specialist or not, him and his War God are no good to you, Amari. Carrathus isn’t the way to go.” Velvet sighed before leaning against the arm of the couch she was on. “Though I suppose there’s no real place for any of the Gods down here. Just… What do you plan to do after? Let’s just say it’s the best case scenario. What then?”


    Flint shrugged. “I suppose Tinkerer. Blacksmith. Maybe get a job in a city.”


    “Uh huh, and you, Amari?” Velvet turned to her.


    We don’t have a plan.


    Shut up. Stupid voice. “I’ll figure something out. I can work security, be a guard, or something.”


    “Uh-huh.” Velvet nodded along before downing the rest of her drink. “You two have no idea what you’re doing, you have no plan other than to run. You expect this to work out? You don’t even know how money works, do you?”


    “I know a bit,” Flint argued. “I was educated.”


    “And what about Amari?” Velvet frowned before looking at Amari. “No offense, of course.”


    “It’s fine.” Amari shrugged.


    But it was true. What was the plan? Escape sure, but after? Jobs? Money? Shelter? They couldn’t just camp in the wilds and survive. That’s not the living they dreamed of. It was just the tunnels all over again, albeit with more sun. Amari wasn’t educated on money, on the day to day of normal people. Neither were trained to build shelter, nor deal with the world. She knew to wake up, scavenge, work, train, and maybe steal if she had to.


    “We’ll figure it out, please Velvet. The auction is in a few hours. We just need a place to sleep for now. Something to eat. I’ve got some gems stashed away, I can trade for it.” Flint requested before placing his glass down on the table.


    Velvet couldn’t stop them. She knew it. They had discussed freedom for years. Many had. But these two had the skills to maybe make it happen. There were no guarantees in this life, and she really didn’t want to bury another friend or two. With a sigh Velvet placed her glass on the table. “First floor, behind the bar. Take the private room. Get what rest you two can. Just please be careful, and swear to me if you can’t guarantee your safety… You’ll abandon this plan.”


    There was a tense pause in the air, but Flint capitulated and nodded. “Only if it''s guaranteed.”


    With that their time proceeded with both Amari and Flint laying on the rough stone floor behind the bar. There was makeshift bedding, and even two straw pillows. It was comfortable by the standards they were used to down here. Amari’s back ached as she lay on her side. Painful scars on her shoulders where something had been ripped out. She didn’t care to recount the memories of losing something so precious as a child. Her eyes were heavy, her feet ached from walking through the tunnels on rough spun sandals. Exhaustion, but with a mind still sharp and ears listening for any sign of someone opening the cloth door to their room.


    It would never happen. Velvet’s place was respected, and rule breakers were usually hung by their feet till they died just outside of it. Still, Amari never could feel comfortable. She waited, staring at the dark stone wall in front of her before finally the weight of her eyes forced them shut. She drifted back into the dream once more. This time she saw her fathers eyes were missing, just skin covering where they should have been. What color were they again? She couldn’t remember.