The atmosphere was horrible.
Coal mines were often the grave of many inexperienced young men. The trend of recent decades had undoubtedly increased the growth of this industry. It was not a dream job, but it put bread on the table, and that was enough.
A not particularly picturesque group headed toward their daily labor, advancing through the excavated tunnels.
"Are you sure you want to keep doing this?" a young man with rough features commented jokingly. Another, carrying a pickaxe over his shoulder, replied in annoyance without turning to look at him.
"Didn't they teach you not to waste the air you breathe?" He continued walking without hurry and went on, "The military would be a good place for you. At least you'd be useful as someone else's shield when the bullets start flying."
No one said anything. It was neither a joke nor an excessive criticism, it was reality. They currently found themselves in a tense period that anyone who was not illiterate and had a bit of common sense could see. Armed conflict was nothing unusual, but the small skirmishes between nations always provoked bitterness between them, and that bitterness had only escalated over the years.
The rough-looking young man sighed and calmed his breathing as he thought.
"Certainly, I'm no exception. We often overestimate our abilities. After all, I'm just another poor bastard like everyone here."
After that internal conversation, he resigned himself to continuing his work.
The group advanced timidly while the tunnels became increasingly narrow. The clanging of tools, along with the accumulated dust and filth and the occasional conversations, created a heavy atmosphere.
Carefully striking the rock, the rough-looking young man slowly entered a trance-like state: strike, throw aside, gather, continue. It was exhausting, and the lack of space would stress anyone forced to stay there too long. He spoke to himself then.
"This week is payday. I'll get myself a good bacon omelet, put on my trousers, and finally say goodbye to this tedious place."
As he continued, he accidentally discovered a naturally formed cavern illuminated by natural light. He was surprised.
'There shouldn't be...' he thought, but stopped abruptly when he saw what lay before him. His pause caught the attention of the others around him, and the abnormal current of air coming from the opening made several call out to him while they watched him disappear through the hole.
The nearest miner grabbed a torch and quickly illuminated the area. His mind immediately recognized a gigantic pattern beyond the opening.
"!Stop everything, come look at this!"
Hearing him, most of them gathered around his call. He took the lead while the others watched him proceed through the opening. Lowering his head, he saw a mural, and his eyes instantly captured the most crucial and almost magical aspect of it.
An immense sensation of submission coursed through his spirit, causing powerful aftereffects that urged him to spread the message conveyed by the stone mural. He walked around it, analyzing every aspect of its composition, language, and design, every detail burned into his mind.
"This is... fascinating."
His words perfectly described the feeling that ran through everyone present. None of the symbols belonged to them or should have been understandable, and yet they could still comprehend them. He quickly found words to describe the message.
"Beginning twenty revolutions around the star this planet orbits from now, living organisms shall extend their hand toward the primordial essence of existence, seizing for themselves all that they desire to obtain. In forty-five revolutions around the star, the realization of this planet shall reach the zenith of absolute control over the universe, and thus the heavens shall fall."
An uncomfortable sensation suddenly gripped his thoughts. Just like him, everyone there had read the same message. Its magnetic sensation, almost tangible, would undoubtedly leave anyone who came upon it with no choice but to believe it. But if its effects spread too quickly, they could all be dismissed as drugged lunatics, or worse, a heretical religious sect. The Church would certainly involve itself in this matter.
His gaze fell upon his pickaxe, and he made his decision.
And he was not the only one.
What followed was a horrifying display of human nature. Blows, stabbings, strangulations, the entire cavern filled with screams and groans of agony. Desire and greed flashed in the eyes of everyone present before they themselves were struck in the head with a rock by someone else and collapsed dead to the ground.
"!No one leaves here without stepping over my corpse!"
"!Move aside, I always hated you!"
"!With you dead everything will be easier for me!"
All of this unfolded while being secretly observed by the rough-looking young man. Despite always being mocked and cast aside, he was clever enough to know that something like this would happen the moment the others saw the stone mural.
'I just have to get out of here while they kill each other. !Inhuman beasts!'
After a while, only a few remained alive. The massacre had claimed nearly everyone, and the survivors were suffering from heavy bleeding or crippling wounds that would prevent them from escaping quickly. Taking advantage of this, he ran with all his strength.
He stepped forcefully out of the mine.
That day, the rough-looking young man learned a single truth: in the next forty-five years, no one would be safe.
The news of the disappearances, the eventual discovery of the corpses inside, and any possible survivor would undoubtedly attract the owners of these vast empires, and they would try to cover it up for themselves. Such things were nothing unusual, and he knew it.
'I'll be killed if it's discovered that I was here. I need allies quickly. The government won't believe a word I say without proof, and their control over this place is practically nonexistent.'
He cursed his own misfortune. He was alive, but they would soon come for him once they discovered what had happened. A greeting distracted him then.
"Gerhman, what are you doing outside so early?" An empathetic old miner looked at him. His astonished expression made it clear that something had happened.
"I quit."
"What do you mean? You're nobody outside this place—" He was interrupted by the young man walking away without hesitation.
The old miner thought to himself.
'No one really knows who stands beside them these days. Perhaps the Albanian temperament was always harsh toward foreigners, but that is little compared to having something to eat.'
He ignored it and continued on his own way.
That same day, hours later, the massacre was discovered.
That same week, the news spread like lightning through newspapers and gossip alike.
That same year, among the circles of great influence and power within the Country of Dawn, preparations began for the arrival of something greater than human will.
—19 years later—
"Karl, you truly are an old fox. You need to leave this city and explore the world. In fact, I offer you the goodwill of all our agreements and extend an invitation on behalf of Houston Active pa—"
"I don't need your crumbs of compassion. I'm an old man at this point."
The recipient of those words, seated on an armchair, merely smiled and extended his hand to Karl. His word was worth more than anything.
"My offer will remain open whenever you wish. Until then."
He proceeded to leave the apartment under the old man's gaze.
Karl was a resolute man. Through the years, he had demonstrated unmatched capability in resolving certain conflicts. His reputation had become a burden now that he was old. He could no longer run or strike as before. His face was marked with scars, and a patch covered his left eye. His muscles had begun to deteriorate, though he still maintained his bulky frame.
He had never let himself go despite his age, and his Border Collie, Pit, accompanied him in his solitude. He never had children nor devoted himself to womanizing, and senility slowly crept closer.
He stopped atop the rooftop to observe the twilight.
Life had undoubtedly been harsh. Ambition had died within him long ago. Nowadays he worked as a dealer in a casino, and his shift would only begin at night.
'And to think I was once a man filled with unmatched resentment and greed.'
Perhaps he had already died long ago. He merely waited for his flesh and bones to enter the coffin on their own someday.
Karl adjusted his suit and put on his felt hat, barely aware of what tomorrow would bring.