The air of the mines never truly left Kaelen's lungs. Even when he lay in the pen at night, breathing as shallowly as he could manage, the grit of spice dust clung to him, burning his throat, searing his nose, settling into his chest. He wondered sometimes if this was how the slaves died—not just from whips or blasters, but from breathing until their lungs turned to ash.
But he didn't die. He endured.
Lira sat across from him, knees drawn to her chest, her sharp eyes flicking over the others. She rarely slept until exhaustion forced her. Kaelen had noticed it days ago: she watched, memorized, learned. In that, they were alike. Though she didn't have a glowing blue interface feeding her quests, she had her own instinct, her own hunger to live.
Kaelen whispered, so softly no one else could hear, "Status."
The glow filled his vision, crisp and cold against the gloom.
[Status]
Strength: 6
Dexterity: 7
Endurance: 14
Intelligence: 10
Willpower: 9
Charisma: 4
Luck: 3
Skills: Observation II, Danger Sense I
Quests: Plan the Escape (11%)
Slowly, steadily, he was climbing. Still a child, still frail compared to the stormtroopers and mercenaries who ran this place, but sharper than when he had first awoken here. Every day was a step forward. Every lash of the whip, every bruise, every aching muscle was progress the System recorded and rewarded.
It was almost enough to make him grateful. Almost.
That shift began like any other. The guards herded them into the tunnels, their boots thudding in grim rhythm. The carts rattled, the picks rang, the dust rose. Kaelen worked silently, eyes scanning every corner, every detail. His Observation made the world sharper, but Danger Sense gave him something else, something more primal: a shiver in his gut when trouble drew close.
He felt it before it happened.
The scarred guard—Kaelen had come to think of him as Scarjaw—was prowling the line. He had a cruelty that went beyond orders, delighting in finding weakness, in pressing until something broke. His eyes landed on Kaelen.
The shiver in Kaelen's gut grew sharp, insistent.
Scarjaw strode forward, whip dangling loosely in his hand. "You," he barked, voice cutting through the clatter. "Boy. You're smiling too much lately."
Kaelen froze. He hadn't realized he'd been smiling. The faint satisfaction of watching his numbers tick higher, of feeling his body grow steadier, must have shown. He dropped his gaze quickly. "No, sir."
The whip cracked against the stone beside his foot, sparks flying. "Don't lie to me."
Kaelen's heart pounded. The blue glow flickered faintly, unbidden.
[Warning: Threat Detected.]
Lira stiffened beside him, her eyes darting between Kaelen and the guard. Kaelen's mind raced. He couldn't fight. Not here. Not now. But submission meant nothing either—Scarjaw wasn't the type to be satisfied by groveling. He wanted pain.
Kaelen lowered his head further. "I'll work harder."
Scarjaw's lip curled. "We'll see."
The whip lashed out. Kaelen tried to twist, but it caught his shoulder, fire searing across his skin. He bit back a cry, his body shuddering.
The System chimed.
[Pain Tolerance I Acquired.]
The next strike came harder, catching his back. Kaelen stumbled but did not fall. His vision blurred, his lungs heaving, but he stayed upright.
[Pain Tolerance Progress: +5%.]
Scarjaw narrowed his eyes. Most children would have collapsed by now, screaming. But Kaelen stood, small body trembling, jaw clenched, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
The whip cracked again. Kaelen's knees buckled, but he forced himself upright, blood trickling down his arm.
The glow flared.
[Pain Tolerance I → Pain Tolerance II.]
Endurance +1.
Kaelen lifted his head, just slightly, and for the first time he met Scarjaw's gaze. His silver-gray eyes burned, not with defiance, but with something steadier, colder.
Scarjaw sneered, raising the whip again—then stopped.
For just an instant, Kaelen saw it. A flicker of uncertainty in the man's eyes. Not fear, not yet, but the recognition that this child wasn't breaking the way he should. That there was something unnatural here.
The guard spat to the side. "Keep working." He turned away, leaving Kaelen trembling but alive.
Lira stared at him, eyes wide. "You're insane," she whispered.
Kaelen's lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "Maybe."
That night, the wounds burned like fire, but the glow soothed him.
[Daily Progress Recorded.]
Endurance +1.
Pain Tolerance Progress: 24%.
He leaned back against the wall, every breath sharp, but his heart steady. The System had turned pain into growth. Scarjaw had given him strength without realizing it.
But the danger was clear too. Too much attention, too soon, could expose him. He needed to grow in the shadows, quietly, until the time was right.
The days that followed blurred together in a haze of labor and pain. Kaelen worked, endured, learned. His Observation mapped every crack, every guard routine, every passage. His Danger Sense prickled at moments of tension, guiding him away from trouble. His body hardened, his will sharpened.
The quest bar inched upward.
[Plan the Escape – 17%]
Not enough. Not yet. But growing. Always growing.
One night, as the others slept, Kaelen sat awake, staring at the faint glow only he could see. He whispered, "System. Show me possible skills."
For a moment, there was nothing. Then text shimmered into being.
[Skill Paths Available: Based on Current Actions.]
Observation → Perception | Analysis
Endurance → Toughness | Stamina
Pain Tolerance → Iron Will | Berserk
Danger Sense → Reflex | Intuition
Kaelen's breath caught. Paths. Branches. Each skill could evolve, could shape him in different ways. Reflex would make him faster, Intuition sharper. Iron Will would steel his mind, Berserk would make him reckless but powerful.
The possibilities spread before him like a holomap of the galaxy.
He smiled faintly, then let the glow fade. The time to choose hadn't come yet. But it would.
Sleep claimed him slowly, the ache in his body dragging him under. His last thought before the darkness took him was simple, steady, unyielding.
He would survive this. He would grow. He would be ready.
And when the galaxy's great war reached his doorstep, he would no longer be a trembling child in chains. He would be Kaelen Veyar—system bearer, survivor, warrior.
The mines could not break him. They were only the forge.