Introduction
Shadbur, a wasteland of factories and teenage lives heading in a downward spiral. A place where the caste system unofficially lived on, where revolution had gone backwards. After centuries of fighting oppression, workers unknowingly were placed back in the lives of the restrained slaves. The naïve humanity, forced back to work, with nothing more than a few sewers and a cleaner work place and settle down to what they call life. I do not blame them, after years of fighting; one may get tired of the war, but does not mean it's over.
Nobody left, nobody came, and nothing ever changed, nothing. You had what you had, born to what you were, there was no chance of "moving up". That is just the way it was, but there was some good from this. Everyone knew what there place was, no prejudice, everyone knew nobody could help being what they were, so no one cared. It never bothered anyone how teenaged lives were carried out, everyone knew they were bound to work in the factories, but some people never knew of what was going on in the streets, no one suspected . . .
The beginning is nothing more than the end of something else, because there had to be something, before it was "changed" into what it is now, or then. There can't be tea without water, no egg without a hen. This is the basis of revolution, the theory of change. You may ask how oppression is capable of occurring, capable of being enforced. Well, ask youself another question, when you are going to do something dangerous, would you do it alone? Or would you drag your friends along? No one wants to lead a rebellion, without the help or backing of others, which leads to my story, well, not mine, but one of the "silent revolt" as people came to call. . .