The sun reflected his goggles as he dug into the dirt. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and he wasn’t alone.

Dozens of workers slaved underneath the sun that seemed so alien.

When the village children asked him to tell the story of how earth had become like this, he’d always answer, “Because we let it.”

And it was true. The government had given up on earth and fed it to the invaders.

Yes, earth had foreign allies, such as the Phyphy and the Vulu.

But no alien race was more powerful than the Keruvians.

The Keruvian Emperor had conquered planets - so, so many planets - and turned them all into an apocalyptic wasteland.

The Emperor’s daily routine went like this: Wake up. Send army to a foreign planet. Destroy cities. Take slaves. Murder. Go back to sleep.

Simple.

He watched an elderly man fall down, his shovel landing in the dirt beside him.

Another one down.

Only ten thousand more to go.

He sighed as Keruvian guards flocked to pick up the dead man and throw him into the Abandoned, a trench dug for the fallen, by the fallen.

The guards snapped at a young girl, possibly only eight years old, to hurry up and dig. She had faltered for a mere second, with tear stains running down her dusty cheeks.

He glanced down, pretending he hadn’t noticed a thing when a guard eyed him with suspicion.

He was a rebel spy.

And this particular guard knew. How the guard knew, he wasn’t sure.

The guard marched towards him and demanded, “Why have you stopped working?”
It was a feminine voice. He responded, “I’m sorry. My arms are growing weak, and I can hardly walk.”
“That’s no excuse. Keep digging,” the guard said. He could hear pity in her voice. And that angered him.

He clenched his teeth as he stared at the dirt, stabbing it with his shovel.

✴

He slammed the door. The picture frames rattled on the wall, threatening to fall and shatter.

A blonde head poked out from the kitchen. “Long day?”
“It always is,” he replied, leaning against the iron door and hiding his face in his hands. “Another one died.”
“We’re still building the ship.”
“I know, Zaveen. Stop reminding me.”
Zaveen walked out, shaking her head. Her lavender skin glowed pink in the evening light. Two of her arms were crossed over her chest while the other two hung by her sides. “We’re going to get out of here. The Stars promise that.”
“Do you really believe in the Guardians? If they were real, why everything gone to-”

“They’re real. I saw a man be possessed by Kostoome.”
“You always say that, as if it’s better than dying.”
“First you say the Guardians don’t exist. Then you say they’re terrible deities.”

“If a man was possessed, he practically dies!”
“The Guardians only possess those who have lost everything.”
“I’m not arguing with you over this. I don’t believe in your gods.”

Zaveen scoffed at his ignorance, and disappeared back into the kitchen.

✴

He woke the next morning with burning shoulders. After greeting his housemates, he started the day all over again.

✴

Weeks have passed since the small argument with Zaveen. Neither had spoken; Zaveen tended to hold grudges when someone didn’t believe in her non-existent Guardians.

He stared out the train’s window. The Keruvians were taking him and nine others to the palace to work somewhere other than the barren flatlands. Zaveen was with him, but they never once shared a word.

All he knew was that slaves sent to the palace hardly came back. They only did when the royals had gotten bored with them.

The train came to a halting stop. He was thrown forward, his head hitting the metal bars.

They had arrived.

Names were immediately being called.

“Anastasia Mejia, medicine,” a guard yelled. He winced - the name brought unpleasant memories.

“Etheldred filius Luka, battleground,” the guard called.

“Zaveen, medicine.”

“Dove Bluebend, kitchen.”

“Hagwin Notelet, servant.”

“Carmin Blackwood, kitchen.”

“Ashera Sylkian, battleground.”

“Gray Tristn, servant.”
He stood as his name was called. The metal doors unlocked, and a guard materialized in front of him, sticking a green emerald on his chest to tell the transportation team that hey, he’s a servant.

He was led out of the train with the other two slaves trailing behind him, a silver coin and opaque diamond on their chests.

He was surprised to be a servant. It was a major upgrade from being a slave, digging for nothing.

The transportation team grabbed him by his arms, tugging him into a small car.

He was silent as he was driven to the castle.

Against his beliefs, he prayed to the Guardians to make sure he wasn’t a servant to the younger Archduke.

The Guardians ignored him.

✴

Being led down the hall wasn’t a pleasant experience. Guards had cuffed his hands together, and he had tripped several times.

He watched the other servant, Notelet, be shoved into the women’s servant room.

Next was his. As he was pushed in, he stumbled over himself.

He was still handcuffed as he stood, turning to watch the door slam.

Whispers travelled around him, and the light flickered on, revealing nineteen young men staring at him.

“Are you Gray?” one of them asked, tilting his head. After confirming, the group erupted in applause.

“We wish you luck,” another said, and the others agreed. “ Mathi is… difficult.”
“Difficult?” he repeated.

“Yes. We’ve had servants jump into the Abandoned world because of him.”
This news worried him. If Mathi was that terrible, he’d never last.

“But we can’t tell the Emperor because the Emperor lives on a completely different planet,” the man from before said. “We’re stuck with a who rules instead of his father and a younger who leads servants to suicide.”

Wincing, Gray shook his head. “I can’t stay here.”
“Well you’re going to. Come on, let’s meet Mathi,” a familiar voice yelled. The door opened, revealing the guard from many weeks before. She had taken off her helmet - she had white hair and navy skin, like many other Keruvians. But her face was that of Commander Jennix Bael, leader of the rebellion against the Keruvian Empire.

Gray froze. Bael walked towards him, grabbing his wrist and leaned to whisper in his ear, “Don’t ask questions. Move.”
She dragged him away, marching down the long hallway until the walls became golden in color. Plants decorated the sides of every room.

They stopped at a wooden door with metal bolts. Bael knocked on Mathi’s door.

It opened, showing the young in all his three foot-five inches glory. His skin was a royal blue, a shade brighter than Bael’s.

“Is this the new one?” the tiny Archduke demanded, crossing his stumpy arms.

Bael nodded, sliding her helmet on and left.

Gray averted his eyes, awaiting his first commands.



He watched his younger brother’s new servant stand there. The servant appeared very, very nervous.

He was intrigued by this servant. There was something… different about him.

Mathi turned, and pointed at him. “Ariyan!”
He jumped from behind the corner, and waved. “Hey, kid!”
The new servant shuffled behind a potted plant. Ariyan couldn’t help but laugh at the movement. “Hey, new guy!”
The servant’s eyes widened as he stepped back.

Ariyan bounded forward, ruffling Mathi’s hair. He looked at the servant and said, “I’m sure you’ve met my brother. I’m Ariyan, by the way!”

The servant didn’t reply. Instead, he found interest in the floor.

“I know you can speak,” Mathi said, tugging the servant’s wrist. Ariyan winced. He’d have to talk to his brother later.

“What’s your name?” Ariyan asked, tilting his head.

The servant mumbled something, and Ariyan asked again.

“Gray,” the servant finally said.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Gray,” Ariyan said with a smile.

The servant nodded.

Something different indeed.

✴

Ariyan closed his door, glancing at the painting of his father.

He walked to the patio, resting his arms on the railing and gazed over the barren wasteland that was Scotland and England.

How could he let his father do this to earth? It was the same thing every day with that man. Ahshan was the first to fall. Then, vulumaria. And then earth. When will this chaos end?

Earth resisted for three years. The governments of every nation fought until Australia backed out, and then Canada, and then Russia.

Soon, all the armies were demolished. There was nothing left but a radioactive planet, the only safe places being Northern Europe. Billions of humans died.

And Ariyan could do nothing about it.

He ruled as the Archduke of the colorless earth. He’d never be Emperor of earth - he had no one to rule beside.

But the rebellion hid in the safety of caves. Maybe they’ll be able to save earth and the other conquered planets.