Something soft and wet hit the side of his face. Hadrian groaned over to the side, ignoring the persistent hitting until it became intolerable. He rubbed his bleary eyes and took a look at his surroundings. The white plastic blades of the fan spun lazily overhead as he swung his feet out of the wool blanket. The walls were a pasty brown, the cheap wallpaper curling up. A tall closet sat across from him and a rickety desk sat next to it. Notebook paper was scattered askew on top of it.
He turned to see a short, well-rounded lady staring at him with a defiant look. Short black pigtails covered by a hairnet, amber yellow eyes, and a slight frown greeted him. She wore a green shirt with blue ragged overalls over them. A white apron covered he overalls and in her right hand, she held a small towel.
"Breakfast time," she growled. Hadrian nodded and she walked out of his room, her feet stomping loudly below. Stretching his arms out, he yawned loudly and walked over to an open door, which led to a bathroom. He froze when he saw his reflection in the mirror.
He had expected to see a ripped muscular body with deep scars in the mirror. Instead, he saw a scrawny thin body reflected back at him. He leaned forward across the sink and examined himself carefully. Sunken emerald eyes, unkempt dirty blonde hair and a mean scowl dotted his face.
Nothing made sense to him as he brushed his teeth. He didn't know why he was a child again. He didn't know where he was or when he had arrived. He should have been more specific in his wishes. Drying his hands on the towel cloth, he left the bathroom and went out his room. There was a open door that was lightly ajar. Nailed on the door was a sign with a name he recognized.
"The Throneslayer himself, eh?" he murmured and looked to his left. It was long corridor with doors on either side of the walls. Like Arik's door, they all had name plates nailed to the door. He jogged lightly down the corridor, turning his head every few minutes. When he reached the end of the hallway, he doubled back all the way to his doorway of his room. He smiled while walking down the iron staircase, his footfalls banging against the metal tread.
Eight names. Seven warriors who he had heard of and fought alongside with. The last one was an anomaly, an unknown. He repeated the name in his mind, trying for figure out if he had remembered hearing about him. When he stepped off the staircase near the foyer, he was certain that he had never heard of the man before. Hadrian wondered if the man was one of the last Thunder Warriors to be created. If he was, it would make sense he never heard of him.
If he wasn't, then it would be an interesting conversation between him and Hadrian.
He made his way into the dining room, which was a large rectangular oak table. Two metal benches, each one capable of seating twelve people, sat on either side of the table. A green screen door with black accents separated the dining room to the open-air kitchen in the backyard. The living room was open-air next to the dining table. Gray worn out couches were scattered around a small coffee table. The TV screen that hung on the wall across the couch was blank, but Hadrian noticed some newspapers lying on the coffee table. Before he could pick one up, the screen door clattered behind him and astern voice bellowed at him.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the late-riser himself. Sit down." The command came from the lady who woke him earlier. He immediately ran to the nearest bench, heeding her command. A plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon strips and a single toast bread was placed in front of him. A glass of milk clinked next to it. He scarfed down the eggs, stabbing them with his fork and shoveling them into his mouth. He bit into the crispy bacon strip and savored its taste.
The newspaper landed next to him with a soft "whump" and he glanced at the bold, black headline
"DEADLY CLASH AT LENG ISLAND. MANTLE DECLARES WAR AGAINST VALE"
Under the headline was a picture of a sandy beach with a burning forest in the distance. In the center of the picture, a tattered black and white banner of an ornate staff was planted in the sand.
"This war is stupid," the woman complained as she cleared the table. "I hope it doesn't last too long." Hadrian quietly finished his plate and quickly handed it to the lady. He bounded over to the foyer and slipped on his shoes from the shoe-rack. Across the shoe row on a row of plastic transparent hooks was his backpack. He yanked it from the hook and swung it over his shoulder. Before he could open the door, he heard the woman shout at him. He turned around to see a newspaper-wrapped object and a small water bottle flying straight at him. He deftly caught it with his hands, stuffed it into his backpack and opened the front door.
Slushes of melting snow mixed with dirt made everything look gray. If it wasn't for the colorful neon signs, he wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the buildings he passed by. They all had the uniform color of white and gray.
Standing near the bus stop was a group of boys of various heights. Each one had different traits, but they shared the gaunt thin physique.
"You're late," the tallest one said. A thin black Mohawk ran in widow's peak from his forehead to the nape of his neck. Standing next to him was a shorter bald boy his mouth curling slightly downwards like a scowl. Hadrian dipped his head at him, "Sorry about that, Arik"
The legendary Throneslayer nodded his head, while his lieutenant, Ghota, snorted at him. A loud rumbling sound alerted the group of the bus's arrival, which slowly screeched to a halt in front of them. Hadrian noted that it belonged to a mining company, specifically it was the Reynold Dust Company. The emblem of crossed spears within a diamond was printed on the bus's side. The bus's door swung open and the boys climbed inside the bus. Once they were seated, the bus rumbled onward to its destination. The bus was packed with children of similar age to him. Interestingly, he saw some had animalistic traits. A pair of small dear-like horns grew out of a person's forehead, while another had green reptilian scales on their arms. Hadrian recognized them as Faunus, a humanoid species with animalistic traits.
For the entire ride, he sat next to the boy he recognized as Dahren Heruk. Dahren and he were almost identical in many ways, save for a key difference. Dahren's eyes were bloodshot, the veins in his eyes were bright red. Long scars covered his pale arms as he sat next to Hadrian. Neither one spoke to each other on the long ride.
Hadrian didn't know how much time had passed, but the bus finally reached its destination. It screeched to a loud stop and the driver loudly announced they had arrived. One by one, the gaggle of children rose from their seats and exited the bus. Hadrian leaped off the bus's last step and landed in snow-covered road, his feet crunching the snow underneath.
Metal ramshackle buildings and a water tower clustered around a dark hole in the mountain. Tall circular platforms stood a few feet away from the mining town and Hadrian could see aircraft landing on top of them to disgorge its passengers. A pair of railway tracks led inside the dark entrance of the cave. Nearby, lines of boxcars attached to a train waited at the mouth of the cave.
The children shuffled into a building named "B2". Inside the building, the children split off into different directions and headed for their assigned locker room. Hadrian pushed past the crowd of children in an attempt to catch up with the others. The lockers were lined up in rows of tall rectangular boxes. Popping open the latch on his locker, he found several items inside. A small pickaxe, his uniform and an accompanying vest, a helmet with a cap light, a pair of gloves, a gas mask and a tin lunchbox with a leather straps. He stripped out of his clothes and donned the uniform first. The sleeves were a bit long and a bit too big, but he managed with it. He popped open the lunch box's clasp, dropped his lunch and water bottle inside, closed it and wore it around his shoulder. Next came his helmet and gas mask. The mask went first as he pulled it over his face and pulled the straps on the sides to adjust it. Then the helmet came next. The cap light attached to his helmet flashed as he turned it on. He flicked the switch on the light and it dimmed instantly.
He lifted the pickaxe, carried it near his chest and waited outside in the hallways. The others came out a few minutes later and he joined them as they walked toward one of the trains. The boxcar they climbed into had no seats, so everyone was forced to stand upright during the lengthy ride. The boxcar shook and jolted as it rode the tracks. The loud screeching alerted everyone that had arrived at their destination.
The cave's wall was covered by thick sheets of ice and pointy ice stalactites hung above them. Scattered on the grounds were mounds of buried Dust Crystals. Fire, electric, gravity and other types of Dust were mined and transported back to the outside world for re-processing in the foundries. Later, they would be packaged and distributed across all of Remnant.
Posted at random spots around the caves were the guards. Clad in gray rusting armor and a red plastic helmet, they armed with iron rounds and shortswords. The overseer was dressed in a similar fashion like the guards. A blue cape was tied around his neck and he held a bullhorn microphone to his mouth, shouting at the tired workers.
The boys gathered around a large Fire Dust crystal buried a corner. Hadrian lifted the pickaxe over his head and swung it at the crystal's rocky base. His arms jolted as the axe chipped away parts of the base. He lifted the pickaxe over his head and swung it downward again. The monotonous act repeated itself as Hadrian fell into a rhythm. Once the base was cleared away, the boys carefully lifted the crystal up and hauled it over to a waiting boxcar filled with other Dust crystals.
The overseer inspected the crystal for any damage before directing them to another crystal to mine.
Hadrian knew it was noon when the overseer shouted it was lunch time. The sound of pickaxes dropping on the rocky floor was deafening inside the cave. He unwrapped his lunch, which was a cheeseburger, and bit into it. The beef patty was dry, but it would sustain him until his shift was over.
He watched the others eat their lunch as he mulled over his thoughts. He didn't know whether they remembered their previous life. Maybe they needed a trigger of some kind. Luckily for him, he had plenty of triggers.
"Did you guys have a strange dream yesterday?"
Several pair of eyes squinted at him quizzically. He saw Arik pause, his cheeseburger in his mouth.
Taking their strange behavior as a "continue speaking", he began describing his fake dream. "I was standing under the shadow of a snowy mountain. At the very top of that mountain was a crimson banner with a golden raptor's head."
The more he spoke, the more allured his brothers were. The story winded down and he ended it on a controversial note. Depending on how they reacted, he could tell whether they regained their memories of their former lives.
A boy with long stringy black hair launched himself at Hadrian, his brown eyes glinting with unabated fury. His fist smashed against Hadrian's right cheek and he fell down on the floor.
"You. Karkin'. Ass. Hole!," Each word was accentuated with a punch to the face as Hadrian tried to stop his attacker. He gasped as he felt his attacker strangle, his hands choking his windpipe.
"That's enough, damn it. That's enough, Ushotan!" From the corner of his eyes, he saw two boys, Arik and Ghota lifted the furious boy under his armpits and dragged him away. Dahren pulled Hadrian to his feet.
"Oi, what the hell is happening here?" the overseer demanded.
"Nothing, just a scuffle between us, sir," Dahren said. The overseer glared at him and turned away from the boys. In his dazed state, Hadrian coaxed to sit down on the freezing stone floor. He saw Vezulah Vult, his signature raptor's head wreathed in a crown of lightning branded on his arms, feeding him small sips of water from his water bottle. Standing a few feet away was Kabe, who was watching the overseer with a weary eye.
"Why did you say that, Hadrian? Are you insane?" Arik knelt in front of Hadrian, his face a stony visage. Hadrian drank a few more sips of water before answering Arik. "I wasn't sure... you remembered... your past lives," Hadrian slurred. Arik sighed and shook his head.
"You could have asked nicely and we would have told you," he said. "I remember everything the moment I arrived here." Arik said as he looked directly into Hadrian's eyes. He saw Hadrian's eyes flicker over him and he nodded his head. The injured boy sighed with relief and reached for his water bottle when he heard something shatter on the floor.
All eyes were drawn to the remnants of the small jagged stalactite that fell from the ceiling. The pebbles and other debris began to shake lightly and intensified each passing second. The miners and everyone else scrambled to the train. As Hadrian to the train, there was a loud 'boom' behind him and he turned to see the cause. A giant spinning drill bit protruded out of the wall as it grinded the icy wall into debris. A pair of metal caterpillar treads pushed the drilling machine forward and it crushed the debris underneath easily. Small rectangular lights were crudely bolted on either side of the machine. Finally it came to a halting stop, the black fumes spewing out its exhaust pipes.
A collective shudder ran through the crowd as they recognized a symbol painted on the machine's sides. A skull sat on top of a pair of crossed pickaxes. Underneath the crossed pickaxes was a large capitalized B.
Hadrian nudged someone next to him and asked, "Who are they?" The man looked at him and whispered hurriedly, "The Braxton Butchers. Raiders and thieves."
The left side of the drilling machine dropped with a groan and the frightened crowd screamed in terror as death rushed toward them.