The rain hasn’t stopped since the machines took control. The Gods have turned their backs on us. Disappointed and heartbroken. The Machinest scoffed at our beliefs. “ Gods do not control this world. “ He commands. “ We do. “ But they can’t explain the unrelenting tears from the now, dark sky. 

As the Sunset alarm blares, we are herded to the flood shed, like cattle. A tall, metallic building made of steel , built to withstand extreme wind and water with automatic flood gates at the bottom. Dragging my feet after a long day getting berated down by the pounding, ice cold water. I can’t help but look up at the gloomy , gray sky and still saying our evening prayer of recognition for another day of life. I offer up another prayer for sun tomorrow as I always do, holding out on some hope they will answer. 

I fall into step with my sister, Gretale. She wipes her eyes from the water hitting it and smoothes the hair out of my face, giving me a small smile. I’m too tired to return it. She gently puts a hand on my back and steers me with the rest of our sector as we split into two lines ; one male and one female. 

As we reach the entrance we are scanned by the barcode imprinted on our arms from the Bio Trackers. They input our data, somewhere at CO, to keep track of our overall health and strength. It detects signs of illness or significant weakness before we even show symptoms. Whatever data it gathers, it goes through an algorithm, created by the Machinest, to determine if we are statistically worth providing treatment. If we are, then we are taking the Health Center and cared for by the Medics. If we are not.. we don’t truly know what happens. Just that you are taken away. And you don’t come back. 

We have lost over 20 people this month. One of the Bio Trackers comes closer its unsettling humanoid face ready to scan me. Gestures for my arm, “Scan, Please” It commands. I hold out my arm, whole body tensing, my heart races. Those eerie eyes scan it over, blinks at me. “ Complete. You may enter. “ as it steps aside allowing me through. I let out a sigh of relief. 

The Escorts further guide us through our safety building to the kitchen and we are given our rations of food for supper. It is always the same. Bone broth with small chopped carrots, cabbage, and a potato. Farmed by our own hands. It is what we are used for. 

Slave labor. We are also used in the mines for our rare minerals, deep into the earth. Minorium. The main product of the Machinest to create these abominations. Allows them to be humanoid and capable of thought and efficiency. What ruined us. Funny enough they cannot mine this mineral themselves due to the deep pressure and moist environment in the earth. They somehow jam their communications and the Machinest can’t have that. We are also the only ones to withstand the weather as the machines try to avoid it. The Machinest, of course, likes to protect his “children”.So, we actually have some purpose.

Agriculture to keep us alive. Mining to keep them. 

As I sit down, feeling the deep ache into my bones, I still breathe in the familiar stale broth. A chorus of quiet murmurs of prayer echoed through. Thanking the Gods for this food. I then take a slow, steady sip. Savoring the warmth.Gretale nudges me. Reminding me we don’t have the luxury of a leisurely dinner. The clock is up for us to see and the timer started as soon as the kitchen opened. 26 minutes. Once we have offered our spirit, the large auditorium-like room , is quiet. Almost no one is speaking, as per usual. I look over to my gentle sister. She is trying to quickly finish her meal. Her pale face looking sunken, her dark brittle hair falling out of its bun sticking to the sides of her face from the rain. Her eyebrows are knitted together, deep in thought. 

Thoughts she no longer shares with me. She meets my eyes, curiosity fills them as she notices me studying her. How tired she looks. I scan the room. How tired we all look. Pale from the lack of sun. Broken bodies. Broken spirits. Just how they like it. I look back at the time. 11 minutes. My right leg is shaking, I start fidgeting with my hands. tapping it against me. I have too much nervous energy. I look over to the young, dark haired and likely once handsome man ahead of me at the next table Shoulders hunched over , head down, playing his part. 

I try to finish my meal, but my stomach is in knots. I feel a wave of nausea suddenly hit me forcing me to put down my broth. Gretale eyes fixed forward once again. She doesn’t notice. I look out for the Escorts that are standing by watching. With that horrid, pleasant smile they put on. To appease us, they say. Looking up again at the clock. 6 minutes. I let out a small groan. And recoil at my carelessness. I try to look around briefly but no one seems to notice. Probably assuming I am in some type of pain. I keep tapping my foot trying to release some of this pent up energy waiting to get out. I catch his eye he briefly shakes his head and takes a deep breath. Telling me to do the same. 

I want to scream It’s not that easy! But I do it anyway. I latch on to my upper thighs, basically bone, and dig my nails in. Commanding myself to calm down. Please, Oh Dual Gods, give me the tools I need to release my energy to you and the courage to carry out what must be done. 

Ame, I silently pray. I check the time again , 2 minutes. My heart leaps out of my chest and flicker my eyes back at him.  He looks up briefly catching my eye, giving me a wink. The signal. Gretale nudges me again. Eyes wide, alarmed. Seemingly catching our brief interaction. 

Guilt pulls at me , but I must shove it aside. I lower my head down, brushing my fingers underneath the table and my breath hitches when I feel the cold, hard promise of freedom. I slightly tilt my head toward her and whisper, “ I’m sorry” before gathering my courage and the little strength I have to jump up on top of our table. I quickly pull out the Minorium knife from underneath, exactly where Jack had placed it. All eyes are on me, alarmed and confused. Gretale frozen in place. But I feel a swell of pride , “ Machinas Fracturum! Machinas Fracturum” I chant in our native tongue. 

“Machines shall break! But not Humanity!” Head buzzing, adrenaline rushing through my veins. I have never felt more alive! 

Then a crack rattling my eardrums- followed by a searing pain to the back of my head. And the world goes black.