Journal Entry 242:

It occurs to me that I appear to have an abundance of free time on my hands now that I am in a cell in Atlas custody. It's kind of a refreshing reminder of how far I've come in a strange turn of events. When I started out as a mook in Atlas, I barely would have rated a personal guard to my cell; now apparently an entire Atlesian airfleet is needed to ensure I don't escape, flattering.

It also occurs to me that should all go according to plan that I will retire to some luxurious fortress and live out my days in paradise. It would behoove me to ensure that I have some groundworks for an autobiography; after all, if I'm going to write a best selling novel on my life, I need to remember all of the facts so that I can exaggerate them better.

I suppose I should start from the beginning… this is the part where I know most people would gloss over their idyllic childhood and get to the meat of the story. Most people seem to describe their childhood as though it were out of a fairy tale.

I became a sociopathic; albeit devilishly stylish and handsome crime boss. Most of my early childhood was spent as a slave in an illegal Dust mining operation. I'll skip over most of the unsavory trauma; and I barely remember my parents, other than they got on the bad side of a very powerful Atlesian crime lord and my mother particularly liked to pinch my cheeks.

I, Rowan Laisren, shall instead skip to the good parts; as they were…

"Alright you miserable urchins!" roared the big surly man in charge of the section, "grub's hot, so get tucked in… you know the drill! You got ten, and if you aren't back to work by then; I'm taking it out on your hide!"

I groaned in relief and pressed the release on the harness to the exosuit I was piloting; I'd heard somewhere that the average exosuit pilot takes about thirty seconds to exit their suit. It's amazing what a motivator hunger can be, because I had gotten it down to about ten; the trick was to get out while the drill had just started to whine down. If you timed it right then you could override the safety mechanism and get that much coveted head start to getting into the food line.

"Alright, c'mon, one at time there, keep it tidy or you'll get none!" he rapped at a few of the children who were out of line with the wooden cane he carried at his side. Out of habit I kept my arms and legs tucked in; old Eight liked to go for elbows and knees, and it didn't take long to learn that it was a competition between you and the children in front and behind you for who could tuck in their limbs the closest to their body.

A few precious minutes later I was at the front of the line; I groaned inwardly as I saw that it was Club who was serving the food today. When he saw me he gave me a toothless grin, "'Ey there Rowan, how's my favorite little scamp today?" he made a show of looking disgusted at the gray slop in the bowl that he had been about to give me. He took the spoon and took a taste, and recoiled a little, "Ugghh… you don't want any of this do you scamp? It's truly disgusting it is." he looked me dead in the eye, and then began slowly pouring the bowl's precious contents onto the ground.

I stood there, trying to keep my face calm as despair, anger, and hunger raged in equal amounts inside me. Finally, he handed the much diminished meal to me, a cruel light flared in his eyes, "there you go scamp; now you don't have to force yourself to eat as much." I took the bowl and sadly looked at the slops at the bottom, Club's face turned ugly, "'Ey, scamp, I did you a favor… what do you say when someone does you a favor?"

"Thank you Club…" I forced past my lips, and bowed my head to the swarthy man.

He leered at me, "See, that's why you're my favorite scamp, always so polite… off with you then, you're holding up the line."

I darted off to the side and desperately began to shovel the meager meal into my mouth; soon the bowl was completely empty, my hunger only slightly abated. I scuffed my arm across my face to wipe away the tears of anger that burned there, and my fists clenched. The warning whistle for the end of lunch blew and I joined the rush to turn in my bowl and spoon and pelted back to my exosuit.

I clambered into the harness and strapped in, kicking the drill release as I did so. Within seconds, the drill was spinning lazily. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Club pushing the grub cart away, and a madness swept over me. My drill began spinning faster and faster, and I took a single step toward him, then I saw a glint of light out of the corner of my eye. My gaze shot up and I saw a tall man gazing down at me from the catwalk; my heart sank as I recognized Spade.

Spade was a living, walking nightmare for the slaves… he wasn't cruel like Club or Eight… but he was the enforcer of the Wildcard Gang that operated these mines. I had seen him take down a mob of slaves armed with mining tools with nothing more than his bare hands. One moment there had been an avalanche of slaves running at him and we had all watched with a glimmer of hope. The next, they were all writhing on the ground, screaming from shattered bones and open wounds that spouted blood. Spade stood untouched in front of them; our hearts had sunk as we watched him casually walk up to each and every survivor and put a single round from his gun right between their eyes; his gaze locking on to each and every one of us as a message. Don't ever try to escape; their word was law.

I took a step back and turned to walk back down the tunnel, sighing as the hunger bit at my core. It was going to be a long day.

I sighed in relief as I settled down in my favorite sleeping spot; it was an alcove right above the repair shop, which meant that the cooling vents below kept the stone nice and cool at all times. Also, I had always found the rhythmic pounding of the hydraulic hammers to be relaxing; sending me drifting off to sleep.

Tonight though, sleep would not come so easily, and I tossed and turned; my stomach rumbling slightly. I sat up and reached under a stone and pulled out my prized possession, a small tattered book, the last remnants of my old life. I had just opened it and begun reading when there was a commotion over where most of the kids slept; I watched with detached interest from my secluded corner.

Douglas stepped out into my line of sight, shoving at a smaller figure. "C'mon Dihex… show us what you got." I frowned at the unfamiliar term; Douglas was one of the alphas among the children. A good for nothing blowhard that I personally tried to avoid; now it appeared it was shoving around someone who I didn't recognize; which probably meant they were new.

The smaller child crashed to the ground roughly, and the kids closest scampered to their feet and backed away with a murmur; forming a rough half circle. I grunted, losing interest, and was about to turn away when I caught a glimpse of her face and I stared.

She looked like no one I had ever seen before, her hair was half pink and half brown, with streaks of white flowing down the pink side. However, what caught my attention was her eyes; one was brown and the other a pale pink… and she was on the verge of tears, her eyes hurt and full of despair.

I gritted my teeth and snapped my eyes shut; trying to turn away; but that face flashed before my eyes… hurt and confused. I stood up, telling myself that I was an idiot, and walked into the light.

Douglas was the first to notice, "Oh look… if it isn't Rowan…" he turned to me, a smug grin on his face. "I was just showing this squirt how things work around here." he gestured to the girl on the ground. "Besides, Dihexes are bad luck; maybe we should just toss her off into the Pit and be done with it." he nodded his head to the side.

The Pit was a large cliff that was adjacent to the sleeping area; usually it was used for trash and refuse; but occasionally a kid would throw themselves off of it too… it was called, taking the Leap. Some whispered that there was a lake at the bottom and that the kids who had either fallen or jumped off were still alive down there; free from the supervisors. Yeah right, I always thought, maybe there are gumdrops and teddy bears down there too.

I looked him dead the eyes, "Alright c'mon Douglas, leave her alone."

The boy sneered at me, "What, you gonna take me on over a squirt?"

I sighed, "No, I'm going to take you on because you are reprehensible reprobate and have a singularly miniscule intellect." I stood casually with my arms folded as his brain worked overtime. Finally, he gave up and with a roar, ran at me with his hands outstretched.

Okay, so I lied before… I also remember that my father was a powerful martial artist and insisted that his young son learn some of the arts as well. I swayed to the side, grabbed one of his outstretched hands, and pulled, in the same movement, I kicked his legs out from under him. He went crashing to the ground, and before he could get up, I grabbed him by the hair and hauled, dragging him behind me before thrusting his face over the edge of the Pit.

"Say 'uncle'," I said, holding his face over the void.

"Uncle! Uncle!" he screeched.

"Are we going to talk about throwing people into the Pit?" I asked sweetly.

"No! I swear I won't!"

"Okay that's good, now are we going to apologize to the nice girl?"

"Alright, alright! I'm sorry! Just let go of me!" he sobbed.

I yanked him back and kicked him away, and he lay there, crying in the dirt. The rest of the children watched in complete silence. I ignored them, and walked up to the strange girl, who was staring at me with wide eyes, and offered her my hand.

She took hold of it, and I helped her up. I didn't know it yet, but that night I had made life long friend; that girl's name, was Neo.

My life in the mines changed quite radically after meeting Neo; mostly for the better. However, I had attempted to stay isolated from the other children for a reason; now, by beating up one of the alphas of the group; I had essentially jumped into the shark tank.

It didn't take long for the other dogs to come sniffing, and I was forced to send each and every one of them with their tails between their legs. It happened the same way every time; after all, if geniuses think alike, then the same can be said for neanderthals. They would bully Neo, knowing it was the way to get a rise out of me; and I would step in a let them know what it meant to get said rise out of me.

These attempts slowed and eventually ceased; which I was perfectly fine with, as it left me more time to talk with Neo. I learned her name a few days after the incident with Douglas, Neopolitan; though she said I could just call her Neo; she didn't know her last name, she had been abandoned at an orphanage when she was just a baby. When I had looked shocked, she had given a resigned shrug and uttered that word, Dihex.

I learned from the whispers that I overheard from the other children and even some of the adults when they thought no one was listening. That those that were born with eyes of different colors were viewed as bad luck, and were thought to bring curses down on those that displeased them. Which explained why my mother had abstained from teaching me about them in my education; she had been a woman of logic; scoffing at superstitions as trappings of an unreasoning intellect. The end result was that adults were wary around her; and often passed her over when they were in the mood for their petty cruelties.

As for the positives… well… I have to be honest; it changes your whole life when you have someone you're responsible for… that you have to look out for. Hunger still bit at me, the aches in my muscles still pained me, and the casual cruelties of the supervisors still bit into my mind. However, they had lost the ability to hurt my soul; pardon the poetic phrasing. It all simply didn't carry as much weight as it did anymore.

Then one night I collapsed from a particularly difficult day and retrieved my book, settling down to read. I heard a small gasp and looked up, Neo was staring at me, her mismatched eyes wide. "You…" she pointed at the book, "you can… read?" I had nodded. She had sat back, biting her lip, finally she looked up at me, "Can you…" she swallowed nervously, "teach me?"

So it was from that night on I would teach Neo from what I remembered from my mother's schooling. The alcove was our classroom, a worn stick was our chalk, and the dirt at our feet was the chalkboard. It wasn't ideal, but Neo was seemed to enjoy our lessons, her tongue sticking out of her mouth slightly as she copied my crude letters. She was a natural at penmanship; my mother had always despaired of me; tossing my work at my feet, "'Just how do you expect people to read this… scrawl?'" she would cry; "'another fifty times… neatly this time.'"

Despite everything, despite the hunger and the general the indignity of being a slave… those nights with Neo are some of the fondest memories in my entire life.

Several weeks after Neo arrived, there was a definite shift in the atmosphere of the mines. The adults became tense; whispering to each other in hushed tones; and angrily snapping at the slightest infraction.

I wasn't quite sure what to make of it for a while… then I overheard Club talking with the supervisor of our section.

"So… whatcha reckon? We on the safe side of it?" the supervisor asked nervously, his beady eyes darting back and forth.

Club snorted and leaned forward, "Look here, I've been in more scrapes than I can count… the Wolf Pack? The Hell Riders? You heard of any of 'em?"

The supervisor scratched his stubbly chin, "Err… not really to be honest."

Club nodded, a conspiratorial grin on his face; "Exactly… that's because they all decided to bet against the Wild Cards and Ace… not to mention King. This Red Snow gang? They'll be beat down and they'll either die or fall in line; just like the rest… now get back to it."

I quickly ducked my head down and got back to work. Ace was the leader of the Wild Cards gang; the group of thugs that ran the mine. I had caught glimpses of the man as he inspected the mines. I had never seen King, from what I had gathered from my time there; King was a high ranking crime boss in the city. He technically owned the mine, but kept his hands clean of the operation itself, and so he contracted the Wild Cards gang to kidnap children to work the mines; as well as run the day to day operations.

It sounded like someone was encroaching on King's turf; and despite Club reassuring the supervisor; an undercurrent of fear was still spreading throughout the mine. I told Neo about what I had overheard that night; she looked up at me, "What will happen to us if this other gang takes over?" she asked.

I frowned then shrugged, "If that happens, then I doubt much will change on our end. We'll just have new people in charge; there might be some different rules, but for the most part they'll just want their cut from the mine."

She tucked her knees under her chin and thought about that for a moment, "I hope that happens," she said finally, "then Club won't be around anymore." she leaned in close and whispered, "he smells funny."

I smiled a little at that, but inwardly I sighed, things could be better with different people, but they could also be a lot worse. If this 'Red Snow' gang showed up, then I was depressedly certain it would be the latter.

If you're reading this journal, you should be fully aware that I'm very rarely wrong. It kind of comes with the territory of being a handsome genius. Well buckle up, because in this fatalistic presumption, I was going to be absolutely, emphatically incorrect.