Pikos (stirring the broth with a broken wooden spoon):
"Listen carefully — we may be wanted by the law, and we may be trapped underground, but I absolutely refuse to die on an empty stomach. Darius! Bring me that bowl, and don't touch it with your dirty hand!"
Darius (laughing as he jumps closer):
"My hand is dirty with wagon grease — that adds a technical flavor to the soup! Right, Nirar?"
Nirar (cleaning the lenses of his tactical glasses):
"The chemistry of grease does not mix well with human digestion, Darius. Leave Pikos alone — he takes cooking more seriously than escaping Rakion."
Ortenos (sitting beside Miron, who had begun to fully regain consciousness):
"Eat, Miron. You need strength. You still look pale as a ghost."
Miron (looking at the plate with contempt at first, then taking a spoonful):
"The food tastes… strange. But it's warm. In my previous cell, bread came mixed with sand to remind me I was worth nothing. These companions of yours… their cheerfulness irritates me."
Nikos (laughing in a rough voice while supporting his amputated hand):
"Cheerfulness is our shield, Miron. If we surrendered to sorrow, Rakion would have caught us long ago. Laughter makes the enemy think you have a secret plan — when in reality… all you have is Pikos's soup!"
While faint laughter filled the cellar, the scene above ground dripped with brutality. Rakion had not only sealed the city — he had turned it into a massive detention camp.
In the central square, General Malkor addressed the soldiers while dozens of bound civilians were dragged forward.
Rakion (walking between the rows, striking his whip against his boot):
"Miron is not a ghost! He is flesh and blood! Every hour that passes without finding him means you have failed to protect Governor Midon. If these rabble will not speak, let the earth drink their blood until it does!"
A citizen (shouting):
"We don't know Miron! We haven't seen him for years!"
Rakion (approaching coldly):
"But you live in the district where the first spark of rebellion began. That alone is enough to make you fuel for the fire of purification."
With a signal of his finger, a soldier stepped forward and struck the man with an energy blade. There was no investigation — only erasure. The military council had issued a new decree called the "Collective Guilt Law," ordering the execution of the family of anyone suspected of belonging to the rebels.
The most dangerous task was going outside to gather news or fetch water. This time, it was Nirar and Ortenos's turn.
Romilius (holding them by the shoulders):
"Remember — you are not warriors now. You are just debris in an alley. Do not look soldiers in the eyes. Proud eyes betray their owners."
Nirar and Ortenos exited through the narrow ventilation opening and slipped between the ruins. In the distance, they saw smoke rising from entire residential districts burned on mere "suspicion" of harboring rebels.
Ortenos (in a sharp whisper):
"Nirar… look. They're executing women too. This isn't a search for Miron — this is revenge against the city itself!"
Nirar (clenching his fist):
"This is the true face of authority when its throne trembles. Belon believed this was necessary… damn him and them."
They returned to the cellar carrying news heavy as mountains. They entered to find Pikos singing an old song from his homeland, while Darius tried to learn the "coin game" from Miron.
Ortenos (cutting off the singing with a firm voice):
"Stop. Krystalis is burning. Rakion has begun random executions in the squares. We cannot stay here more than a few hours. The smell will expose us — or informants will reach us."
Miron (standing with difficulty, his eyes blazing):
"I told you… the beast will not rest until it eats a heart. Rakion wants my head — and I will give it to him… in my own way."
Romilius:
"What do you mean, Miron?"
Miron:
"There is an underground passage connecting this sector to the military council's main weapons depot. If we can reach it and blow up the central reservoir, we will cripple the Red Division and give the people a chance to flee — or revolt."
Pikos (in panic):
"Blow it up?! I barely managed to light this stove without burning my beard! You want us to face an entire army?"
Darius (with sudden excitement):
"Why not? My father lost his fingers, and we're already marked for death. Let's make our deaths expensive, Pikos!"
Nikos (placing his good hand on his son's shoulder):
"That's my boy. Miron… show us the passage. Ortenos, the choice is yours — do we escape like rats, or emerge like a storm?"
Ortenos looked at his companions, seeing in their eyes a mixture of fear and courage. Then he looked at his sword.
Ortenos:
"We will not leave like rats. Pikos — feed us well tonight… it may be our last feast under the sky of Krystalis."