1 It’s starting

A long passage, in a veil of darkness, stretched on seemingly endlessly. However, everything has an end. Nothing ever doesn't. Not even something that says otherwise.

***

Silence permeated a webbed network of hallways, only pierced by the occasional rattling of chains. Innumerable metallic doors littered this maze.

Among these doors, there was only one currently being inhibited by a human.

Two cuffed, pale, bony hands held a piece of loaf. Covered in a patched tunic, sat a boy of small stature, with his feet chained, in the corner of a gloomy room with only moonlight serving as a light source, reflecting off his dull white pupils. Quietly nibbling away on a piece of moldy bread, his thoughts much more chaotic than his appearance.

'Aged 15, Damu, who had never once experienced a home cooked meal or artificial light, was going to be sent to his death.

Well, not exactly. What he was being sent to was worse than his years in the slums. No, not really that either. As a matter of fact, he might be going to achieve his best point in life. Probably not, so it's safe to say he's as good as dead.'

'STOOP! Why am I so hell bent on thinking I will die.'

Damu was, as a matter of fact, going to be sent to fight for his life. He was unfortunate enough to be found by the dark troops while on a search for food and got abducted in hilarious fashion. Imagine someone halfway in a dustbin and a bulky figure clad in soot black cloak picks up that someone and stuffs them in their cloak. Yes, that someone just so happens to be Damu. Now he was going to become the source of entertainment of twisted people corrupted enough to enjoy desperate, bloody battles where it's always the weak victim which ends up losing their life. If the victim miraculously manages to emerge victorious, they will be forced to take the ranker's spot. Obviously with a means to keep them bound.

The dark troops were infamous for kidnapping children and making them fight against the more warped rankers for the amusement of the equally depraved rich people of Dravia.

These pieces of information were obviously very well known to the inhabitants of the slums, for where else would rumors be more prevalent than in run down outskirts or the halls of the wealthy.

Damu was very much aware of it but one can only go for so long with such hunger and with food becoming increasingly scarce in the slums. Hence he became a victim when he did come out.

'Argh, I'm wasting my time with all this thinking here. I should just sleep for now and conserve my energy.'

Laying down on the cracked flooring, he shut his eyes forcefully, myriads of thoughts still clouding his mind. Damu waited till he managed to find some peace and dozed off ignoring the physical and mental pain.

.

.

.

Feeling the rays of sunlight, entering through the supposed aperture, assault his eyes, they shot open. He unwillingly sat upright and put his back to the mold ridden wall, and as though this was final day, his thoughts came back to him with an intensity he had never felt before. Trying to not fall into endless gloom, Damu forced himself to think about lighthearted things. He was the only one who could comfort himself here.

'At least I got some food here. Why don't they all hand themselves in and maybe they too might get some bread. Too bad I'll be dying today. I even looked forward to a day where I'd be able to afford more than just a sachet of ketchup after becoming a ranker.'

Rankers are people who have awakened their gifts through a trial. They are sent into a trial when they show symptoms of affinity with infinity. Those symptoms are not very commonly found together and consist of nausea, fatigue and increased amnesia. For people from the slums who have already weak constitutions, these symptoms are mostly fatal. The symptoms appear across a wide range of ages but do not appear in people over 45 and under 12.

'Come to think of it. I can't recall my parent's names ever since I opened my eyes here. Eh, who am I kidding? I'm turning into an optimist. Ha'

As if answering his internal strife, a loud, crude voice rung from the other side of the iron gate.

"It's finally your turn O' sickly one."

Damu turned his face to look up briefly. The gate creaked open to reveal a husky man with a burly beard who bought with him a foul stench.

"Alright you man-bear."

"You wouldn't get to leave through this door if I wasn't forced to bring you out."

The man-bear grabbed the end of a chain and unlocked it. Yanking the chain to forcefully make Damu stand, the man grinned. Damu dusted his tunic as he remained stoic despite the stinging pain in his ankles and wrists. At least with his face.

Internally, Damu was imagining how he'd get back at this man-bear once he had enough freedom to move.

'Hmph, I'll put it off for now.'

The man-bear led Damu through a dark passage. Dragging his feet across the dusty marble, Damu was running his mind through multiple scenarios, eager to look for any possible loopholes he could potentially exploit.

A glimmer of light shone, no not metaphorically.