Everyday a new orphan stumbled into the Underbelly, everyday a widow and her children sought refuge in the Underbelly. Everyday the Underbelly accepted a surge of displaced souls, and more and more only kept coming till what safe space the Underbelly could provide would be filled to the brim.

The Vermillion accepted as many people as they possibly could, but soon they knew, even the streets would be full. However the Underbelly was far larger than what the Vermillion controlled. What was left of the it was under the control of Asad Mavis. And there was no one in the Underbelly who hated Dhulka more than the Quincy's leader.

But even for all his horrid deeds, Asad Mavis was human. He had feelings and emotions, he valued relationships and he had a heart. He could be swayed. He had to be. Because if he wasn't then Dhulka was undoubtedly screwed.

Nairo and Jared arrived at the Quincy base, without a weapon nor ill intention. They willingly went under a thorough search by the Quincies before they were allowed through. Eyes followed them cloesly from dark alleys and ajar windows as they made their way through Quincy territory. Fingers itched to kill, mouths salivating at the thought of holding the decapitated heads of the Vermillion men.

But not one Quincy laid a finger on them. Because while Nairo and Jared were Vermillion, and therefore the enemy they were older than the two gangs, and history promised them safety.

Asad Mavis was a scarred man, whose eyes had seen many years pass with blood shed and betrayal, love, loss and hatred. He dawned a scar that stretched from the corner of his mouth like a crooked grin. That scar continued across Nairo's cheek. And ended in Jared's palm. The same swing of the same knife had marked the three brethren for life, whether they would one day be foe or still remain friends.

"Well what a tearful reunion we have here," said Asad Mavis, sauntering into the pearly room. He took Nairo's extended arm, but pulled the teacher into an embrace. Asad Mavis then turned to Jared, and just the same embraced his old friend. "Do take a seat, both of you. This sure does take me back."

25 years back they were but three boys who never thought for a second that they'd grow into the men they were today. That each boy would go on to lead completely different lives and still end up in the Underbelly again.

"Asad," Nairo began, failing to return his friend's glee. "I'm sure you are aware of the situation upstairs."

The smile on Asad Mavis' face fell. Disgust crept onto his countenance. "What about it?"

"Dhulka has been invaded by the men who walk the surface. And soon they will come for the Underbelly." But as Nairo said it he knew his words weren't reaching Asad.

The Quincy leader scowled. "And until then I will wait."

"Asad, this isn't right," Jared said. "You know it isn't."

"Don't give me that crap Jared," Asad bit back, "you're proof enough of how cruel the people upstairs are. They might've taken you in and made something of you, but as soon as you were exposed to the surface they threw you back into the Underbelly."

"I don't think that way," Jared pleaded. "There are good people upstairs just as there are good people down here. You don't have to be what they think you are."

Asad smirked, laughed. "Have you forgotten what I look like, when you lost your sight?"

"Asad-" Nairo began, but he only heard his own voice.

"Look at me!" Asad took Jared by the collars. "Look at me carefully and tell me you don't think I belong!"

Nairo gripped Asad's arm and pried him off of Jared. "You know we never saw you like that."

Asad Mavis was a madman. At least that's what Dhulka said. Asad Mavis was never supposed to be born. Asad Mavis wasn't ordinary in appearance. Unlike the rest of Dhulka, Underbelly included, Asad Mavis had skin the color of dirt.

"You're here to ask for my help. You want me to accept them into the Underbelly." Unlike Jared and Nairo, Asad Mavis would never have been welcomed in Dhulka.

Nairo took him by the shoulders. He felt every bit of Asad's revulsion. He understood where his hatred stemmed. But working with children all those years thought Leonard Nairo that children are thought hatred and division. The people they become are more often than not, the result of what they'd been led to believe is good.

"You aren't a mistake my friend," Nairo took Asad by the shoulders and held his gaze hoping he'd hear every word. "And I only hope one day, everyone will see that, including you. You've been taught better. You're a better man than this. And I can say that because I know who you are. Or at least I did." Nairo stepped away. "If not for them, then do it for her."

Asad bristled. "Did she send you?"

"She was the first to welcome them into the Underbelly," Nairo answered. "But now the Vermillion is filling up and we need all the space we can get."

"Why didn't she come herself?"

"Why do you think?" Jared sneered. "She doesn't want to be anywhere near you."

Asad Mavis grinned. A madman. A lunatic. A heartless monster. "I love her dearly. But to care for the very people who abandoned her, she is a fool. And to forsake me in their favor, she is even more broken then anyone realizes. I thought her better, but she didn't listen. She never did. And now she will pay the consequences." He shook his head, as if to shake away his glee. "She's a ticking time bomb, sooner or later she will implode and if the surface dwellers don't get here first then the Underbelly will fall into chaos before then."

~~~

Exotic cuisine and fine dining. Warm baths and a back massage. A pillow and a blanket. Relief and rest. Peace and calm. Were things Baido missed dreadfully. More than ever he missed having control of his own body. To go where he wanted, when he wanted. To speak, to eat, to breathe of his own free will.

But the surface dwellers would never dare give him the chance. At least that was the case during the day, at night he and the rest of the men were forced under the control of a gun and a threat to the lives they held dearest, their wives and children, their sisters and friends. Fear was fed to them like the air they breathed, every waking second and even in their dreams fear filled their fantasies. Lifeless bodies hung over balcony rails and if you stared at them hard enough, they'd wave back. Or climb down and walk alongside you.

During the day, the men were worked to the bone, made to carry rubble and wreckage, repair structures broken in the invasion of Dhulka and build whatever it is the surface dwellers had in mind. It seemed clear that the surface dwellers had greater plans than mass destruction, and with that came a mastermind, a leader. A careful, cunning and quiet leader.

Baido did as he was instructed when he wasn't being possessed. Eloi was safe away in the Underbelly and his parents were gone, he had nothing holding him down but it was easier to go along with the crowd. More than one man had attempted an escape. The first exploded like blood-filled balloons before they could get too far. The second group lost everything below their waist, and cried out into the night as they bled out. The numbers dwindled from there till only the most broken, despaired men were left.

But everything changed one morning when the surface dwellers didn't come. Several pairs of eyes met one another in the dark, a question hung in the damp air of their cell, "what now?" But no one was brave enough to answer. Baido kept to himself most days, he spoke when he needed to and disregarded common decency for what safety he could garner. It was one man for himself, and that was the rule.

The day ran on by, but hunger, thirst and sickness only made the hours seem like years for the men locked in their cells. Perhaps they had forgotten them, but Baido wondered what was worse, starvation or slavery. Those thoughts led him to wonder if death was worse than life right now. Maybe, maybe not, Baido would wait for what arrived first.

"Do you think they've come to save us?" One man said aloud.

"Who would come? Who would dare?"

"Dhulka's special forces, or perhaps the royal guards, anyone!"

Baido shook his head and slumped into his dank corner. Soaking in the stench of sweat, urine, feces, blood and what other fluids the human body leaked. No one would come. No one would save them.

One man shushed the other quiet. But an uproar only followed.

"Why do you think the surface dwellers haven't come to get us?" The man was delirious. Drunk on despair he'd tripped and stumbled into hope. "Dhulka has been saved and the surface dwellers are gone, but they don't know that we're stuck in here!"

Fist met face. "I told you" - a man crashed to the floor - "to keep" - bones cracked - "quiet!" Flesh and bones clashed in a violent beating. A man died in a tiny cell in Dhulka's upper folds, at the hands of another. Who was the enemy, the man who let fear control him or the man who instilled fear?

Baido closed his eyes and let darkness fill his sight. He saw nothing and heard nothing. He was alive and that was all that mattered.

Footsteps sounded down the hall. Chains clanged. Rusty metal screeched. They had come.

"Out," they said.

One by one, the men left their cell. Baido was last to leave and like every other man before him, he didn't spare the dead man a second glance. They were herded down Dhulka's tunnels. Further and further out from Dhulka's core. Where were they taking them?

Baido first knew when the air suddenly became lighter, purer, newer—fresh. The air was fresh. It seemed to cleanse him from the inside out. But because it was something he had never experienced before, he knew something wasn't right. The line of men halted. Baido came to a stop. Murmurs skittered down the file, "surface."

Baido's feet glued in place. But the gun against the back of his head forced him forward. The file set forth once again. Soon the cover of the earth was gone and the sky, the real, raw and unfiltered night sky was in full view above their heads.

There are so many more stars than that which you can see. In Dhulka you could count the stars, fit them in the palm of your hands and sprinkle them like salt crystals. But as many stars as Baido took in, up here the stars numbered beyond the last number he knew. For once, the sight of them seemed to fill him and didn't leave him feeling hungry for more.

His eyes adjusted quickly. Soon he was peering out at the landscape. Swaying plants at his feet, shadowy figures off in the distance that must've been what they call trees. And further out giant sized rocks, whose jagged tips seemed to reach all the way up into the heavens. Mountains, perhaps.

The earth was damp and squishy, cold and crawling with plants that grew as tall as his knees. Grass. Yes, it was grass. The blades of its leaves scratched at his thin clothing. And had a strange scent, like nothing he had ever smelled before. The air buzzed with whistles and what sounded like whispers or perhaps soft singing that was ever-present. A breeze swept past and slid over his skin like an icy embrace.

His bones rattled and his lungs filled to its full capacity. He took in his surroundings like a blind man seeing for the first time. The constant buzz drowning out his thoughts. And so many new scents bombarding him at once. So this was the surface. This was the world.

"Keep going," the surface dweller behind him grunted. Baido pressed forward. Up ahead in the line men were handed a tool and sent off. The blade was bent horizontally and blunt. It was used to dig up and turn over the soil.
Once each men had received the tool they were sent to work. And work they did without rest or recess.

Only when the stars slowly disappeared against the morning sky and the air grew warmer with the rising sun did they stop. Then back into Dhulka they went.

A/n: Hola, idk if anyone is even reading this or keeping up at all with Thy Brilliance but I do hope you find it interesting.