Chapter 251 251: Men are slaves
Chapter 251 251: Men are slaves
One of her assistants pointed.
"There's a mining operation over that ridge. Been there for years, apparently. Some kind of very rare ore extraction."
Sofia felt her stomach drop.
"What kind of operation?"
"Industrial scale. Employs a few hundred workers. Why?"
Sofia didn't answer. She grabbed Dane, and together they climbed the ridge to get a better look.
What they saw made Sofia's blood run cold.
The mining operation sprawled across a broad depression in the valley floor.
Open pit excavations. Processing facilities. Housing barracks. And everywhere, men. Hundreds of them, working in the pits with primitive tools, hauling ore in baskets, their bodies covered in dust and sweat.
They were naked to the waist despite the cool temperature. Many showed signs of injury. Sofia could see scars, fresh wounds, and the telltale signs of malnutrition.
Guards stood watch at intervals around the operation. Women in dark uniforms, carrying batons and what looked like origin-powered weapons.
"Slave labor," Dane whispered.
"They're using slave labor."
Sofia pulled out her binoculars and looked closer. The men in the pit moved with the mechanical efficiency of people who'd given up hope. They didn't talk to each other. Didn't rest unless ordered to. Just worked hour after hour under the watchful eyes of their enforcers.
Near the barracks, she could see more men. These ones were even worse off. Emaciated, some could barely stand. They huddled together for warmth, wearing nothing but ragged cloth around their waists.
"There's no food distribution," Dane said, his voice shaking with anger. Anybody could tell just by looking at their frail bodies. They weren't even fed properly.
"No proper shelter. They're working these men to death and then replacing them."
Martha had followed them up the ridge.
She stood beside Sofia, looking through another pair of binoculars, her face pale.
"I didn't know," she said quietly.
"The Council runs operations like this all over the Dominions," Sofia said bitterly.
"Men who don't fit properly into society, who commit minor crimes, they disappear into places like this. Labor camps disguised as industrial facilities. The ore gets shipped out, profits flow to Council-connected companies, and nobody talks about how it's produced."
"This has to be exposed," Martha said.
"People need to know."
"Exposed to who?" Dane asked.
"The media is controlled. The courts are controlled. Anyone who tries to speak out about this ends up in a camp themselves or dead. That's why we need what's in that tomb. We need power that can actually challenge the Council. Otherwise, we're just adding our bodies to the pile."
Martha frowned and asked, "What do you mean by power in the tomb?"
"You didn't say anything about this when you told me about the tomb." Martha gave both of them a serious look.
Dane raised his hands.
"I apologize if you felt that way, but we don't know much about the tomb. It's just that there is a great power residing in that tomb, that's all."
Martha stared at them for a couple of seconds.
"See, we don't have any bad intentions. You are doing all the work, and you can see for yourself what's in there."
"All right. Keep in mind that I will have my men keep an eye on you."
They all turned to look at the mines.
Martha stood at the edge of the excavation site, her geological maps forgotten in her hands as she watched the mining operation in the distance.
Even from here, even trying to focus on her work, she couldn't unsee what was happening.
The men in the mining pit moved like machines.
No breaks.
No rest.
Just endless labor under the watchful eyes of female overseers.
"Dr. Buchanan?"
One of her research assistants, a young woman named Kiera, approached with a tablet showing the latest ground-penetrating radar results.
"The anomaly is definitely there. The readings are consistent with a massive hollow structure, just like you suggested. We should be able to begin careful excavation of the approach tunnel by tomorrow."
Martha nodded absently, her eyes still drawn to the mining operation.
"Kiera, how long has that facility been operating?"
The assistant glanced toward the distant pit and shrugged.
"Twenty years, maybe more? It's a Council-sanctioned operation. Ore extraction.
Why?"
"Just curious about the geological impact on our site," Martha lied smoothly.
"Large-scale mining can affect underground structures."
But her mind was elsewhere.
She was thinking about the men she'd seen. The nakedness despite the cold. The visible injuries. The complete absence of proper food distribution or shelter.
Sofia had been right.
The Council's atrocities weren't just historical suppression of knowledge. They were ongoing, systematic, and hidden in plain sight under the guise of industrial operations.
"I'm going to walk the perimeter," Martha said.
"Check the western ridge for potential instabilities. I'll be back in an hour."
She walked away from the dig site, ostensibly examining rock formations but really just needing distance from her team. Needing space to process what she was seeing, what she was learning, and what she was becoming part of by helping Sofia and Dane.
*
In the forest, twelve miles northeast of Kreeshan Valley, was old growth, dense with trees that had stood for centuries. The canopy blocked most of the sunlight, creating a perpetual twilight at ground level.
Through this darkness, a military company moved with practiced efficiency.
Fifty soldiers, all women, dressed in combat fatigues marked with the Defense Force insignia. They moved in formation, weapons ready, eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.
And supporting them were men.
Twenty of them, serving as porters, drivers, and equipment handlers. They drove the supply trucks, carried the heavier gear, and maintained the vehicles.
None of them bore weapons or held combat positions.
That was women's work.
Leading the entire operation was Highseer Andraste Kellor, and she was magnificent.
Tall and athletic, with copper-red hair pulled back in a severe braid, she moved through the forest as if she owned it. Her combat robes were practical but elegant, marked with the silver symbols of her rank.
She was thirty-two years old and had been hunting demons for a decade. She was very good at her job.
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