Everything he touched shook and banging came from everywhere around. A putrid stench filled the air.

Zacko opened his eyes to darkness and glimmers of light to the sides. He tried getting up, but had to fall back a moment later -- there was an awful stinging in his gut.

What he experienced wasn’t a dream. And it certainly wasn’t the afterlife..

Is my head on a pillow? he asked himself then jumped at an awful realization -- corpses were all around him.

As he tried getting up and out of the awful place, a tapestry wrapped around his head.

Zacko released a growl then twisted the thing off himself.

Light engulfed everything.

He breathed the fresh air and his eyes adjusted. Even though what he saw wasn’t a shock, his jaw dropped a little nonetheless.

He was in a corpse carriage.

Beside him were mostly peasants and some soldiers in green tunics. A pair of rats feasted on an arm and countless flies circled the vehicle. An old man on a horse towed the carriage.

Holding his sides, Zacko thought everything over.

Powers that be, I’m alive. Actually, actually alive. And everything that happened really did happen!

Most importantly: where’s Nila? I pu0 her on my horse and made her ride as far away as possible!

No, no, no…

I have to find you!

As all the memories came flooding back, Zacko turned to the back of the carriage and jumped.

It wasn’t a tough choice -- he knew what he had to do. Though the fall was tough.

Zacko rolled and tumbled, hurting his wounds even more. He hit his cheek on a rock. His hand jumped to cover his mouth, stopping a terrible scream from coming out.

The carriage drove away without noticing him fall out or the load getting lighter. It left Zacko in the vastness of the midcontinent fields. This place wasn’t far from Company’s Heart, but without a steed, a traveller would have to walk for three days and nights.

Zacko struggled off the road and walked to the grass.

I could keep going along that path until I reach an outpost, he thought. But they’ll recognize the green tunic. It’ll be an easy path for a while, but in the end, it’ll take me farther away from her: I’ll have to do a lot of explaining which will only get me back in Company’s Heart...

Where did you go, Nila?

It’s got to be either Center-Sword or Company’s Heart. Where else could’ve she gone?

Well, to San Aro…

I have to stay on the low, get on a horse and patch these wounds up. Otherwise I’ll be a goner in a few days.

Tiny figures appeared miles away. On further examination, they were people, moving closer to Zacko.

He turned to the side to avoid the tiny little group.

Then, more figures appeared, making a whole wall of running silhouettes.

Zacko quickened his pace. His wounds hur from moving, but he bit his lip and fought through the pain. He wasn’t certain of who those figures could be, but there was a lot of them and they were moving quickly towards him.

Gunshots sounded among the figures’ ranks.

Ignoring the atrocious pain, Zacko broke into a run and turned back to the road. I should’ve stuck to it all along.

The figures ran after him. They were in better shape than he was, uninjured and ran like starving wolves.

One of the men chasing after jumped on his back and detained him.

Peasants’ clothes covered the middle aged man, though he wore fancy leather shoes. Beside him stood two boys in outfits from sown together rags.

“What’s your name?! Did you run away?!” the man said.

“No! I don’t even know who you are!” Zacko groaned.

“Well… this is even better.” The man gestured at the boys. “Get him up.”

With their help, Zacko managed to stand up.

“I’m Bradier,” the man said and pointed at Zacko with a raised eyebrow.

“Zacko.”

“You’ll be a nice addition to our team,” Bradier grabbed Zacko by the shoulder and pushed him towards the wall of silhouettes.

“What team?”

“You’ll be working the fields for my boss and my uncle… he’s the same person,” Bradier said. “It’s a family business--my boys help out here too--but don’t worry, we accept everyone.”

Zacko sighed. “You want me to be a slave?”

Bradier jumped to the side and shook his head. “A slave?! No, you’ll be a useful worker with pay and dinner!”

“But can I leave?”

“Once your work contract is done.”

“I’ve also got a contract with the Swords of the Guardians, you know.”

“Curious… Well, that is not for me to decide. You’ll meet my uncle and he’ll tell you what to do. Although I’ll say: if you’re with a company, why were you running through a field, alone?”

“Personal matter.”

“In companies, personal matters don’t exist.”

The line of figures in the distance neared until it became clear. Countless people--men and women, children and seniors--all either dug, shoveled the dirt or planted seeds. Those people wore awful clothes, endured awful conditions and used awful tools, yet they worked as efficiently as companymen.

“What do you even grow here?” Zacko asked.

“Greenechemy ingredients,” Bradier said.

“Those things are weird. I always see everyone use them, but no one grow them.”

“Cause most are afraid to do it and those who aren’t are certainly scared to do it in the open fields. Peasants still think greenechemy is sorcery…”

They walked through the never ending ranks of people until they reached a clearing. There a man in a suit rode on a horse and puffed on a long smoke.

“It wasn’t a runaway, Walker. It’s a… lost companyman,” Bradier said. “Zacko’s his name.”

“Oh, interesting,” Walker spoke. “Welcome to the fields, deserter. Look at them as saviour, a new hope of redemption and not as a prison.”

“I’m not a--”

“Then why aren’t you in the battle?”

“What ba-- because I was already there! I… I got injured!”

Walker waved. “Right. Heal this man and give him work. I don’t care about anything except that you finish your one thousand hours of work. Then, you’re free to go.”

Instead of a new life and freedom in a different continent, I’m a slave to some madman.

What was that power’s name? Throck?

Indeed, I’m nothing more than a mercenary of a puppet. No matter how hard I try, things like these keep taking me down.

Bradier and his boys took Zacko to a black tent where a woman in a bloodied white shirt took the bullet out of his guts, poured alcohol over the wound and tidied it up. The woman gave him a pair of crystal-covered leaves and pushed him out of the tent, shouting, “next!”

He followed Bradier, first putting the plant over his wound, then chewing it. He frowned at the leaves’ minty yet bitter taste.

The people all around struggled, fell, but kept going. They worked incredibly hard and only caused confusion for Zacko.

You’re beaten down and you get nothing for your work, but you still keep going, slaves: why don’t you escape?! he thought. When I heal, I’ll run. Staying here will only screw me even more over and will make Nila harder to find. But I can’t leave now with this awful pain.

Bradier stopped by a small strip of grass being quickly turned into farmland by a dozen obese women.

“You work here,” he said and dropped a hoe and a shovel.

Zacko sighed and grabbed the tools. He squinted and stared for a moment. Then, he started digging, following the pattern of the women.

A moment later, a pair of hands grabbed him from behind. They locked him in place and turned around. The Bradier boys held a heated to redness pitchfork in front of his chest.

Zacko groaned and tried squirming out.

That’s why they don’t leave! he realized. They’re badly tortured and can’t!

The red hot pitchfork burned through his tunic and evaporated a pair of hairs on his chest.

“Stop!” a girl’s voice shouted. The pitchfork froze an inch off Zacko’s chest

Zacko took a deep breath then slapped the pitchfork down.

The boys backed off and turned around. They bowed to a figure they obstructed.

Zacko raised an eyebrow and pushed the kids to the sides. He froze. A tear ran down his cheek and he started running.

“Nila!” He hugged his sister. For some reason, the girl was in fancy clothes and held an engraved stick in her right.

“Zacko,” she whispered.

The moment only lasted a few seconds, yet they felt like an eternity. Though she was lost for only a few days, he felt like having reunited with a someone though dead for over a decade. Zacko hugged harder and his grin rose higher.

“What happened to you? How are you here?!”

“It’s a long story,” Nila said. “Though you’ve got to stop holding me.”

“Oh,” Zacko let go of her. “Sorry if I suffocated you.”

“No, not that.” His sister leaned in next to him. “They think I’m a higher being. They serve me.”

Zacko stood dumbfounded for a moment. He shook his head. “How?”

“Because of me,” a voice spoke from behind. The voice had the familiar tone that sent shivers down Zacko’s back and made him jump.

“T-throck?”

“I’m the one who thinks,” the power said. “And the one who knows almost all there is to know. It might be hard to realize, but knowledge brings incredible, inconceivable things; it lets one manipulate all who can be manipulated.”

“You’re saying--”

“He’s saying he saved me from slave, rape and death. He gave me hope and the chance of finding you!” Nila said.

“But what did you give in return?!” Zacko said. “Deals have got to be fair, don’t they?”

“Oh, they do.” Throck walked to behind Nila. “In return for hope, knowledge and all it can bring, she made a nice and simple offer: once she’s twenty five, she’ll start serving me, until the end of existence.”

No, no, no!

Nausea then, a moment later, frustration overcame Zacko.

“Don’t tell me that! Don’t tell me you made a deal!” he shouted, his voice cracked.

Nila sighed and rolled up her elbow. Throck took out the Gunpowder of the Deal while Zacko’s sister showed a small cut on her forearm.

The whole world collapsed around Zacko.

He fell to his knees and with his shaking hands covered his eyes. He sobbed and moaned. The tears covered his face and dripped into his mouth.

Zacko spat the sour pain out and fell deeper into his pit of misery.

Nila’s warm hands wrapped around his chest and her head fell on his shoulder. She spoke in their made up tongue which hadn’t left anyone’s lips for at least four years.

“Koroko majo visoko Jack. Vakoko ajo xaro.”

Zacko raised an eyebrow, but also smiled.

“I believe in you,” the words said. “Don’t repeat Guardian’s mistake in failing to save Jack. Save me.”