As the prisoners moved on to receive their pickaxes and bracelets, Sabrina looked around at her fellow inmates, sizing them up. Some looked strong and determined, while others appeared weak and defeated.

Among them the only one who caught her eye was the Terran Princess, who seemed to be detached from all that was happening.

The aura she gave was none like Sabrina had seen since the day she became a Transcendent.

It was an inexplicable feeling, it wasn't the natural Trait of the Feline, nor the powers borne of one Blessed by Sekhmet.

It was an elusive, more primal, and primitive feeling that had existed since the beginning.

Instincts.

Instincts that had been honed from bathing in blood enough to flood the City of Thebes. Instincts that were sharpened all her life dancing on the edge of a blade, with each day she had spent expecting the Judgement of Anubis at anytime.

These instincts were telling her she could be killed a hundred times over from a glance. These same instincts told her that what she'd been looking for all her life, the one thing she'd truly desired, it would be found if she stayed with this Ice Princess.

Any other person would have started questioning the feelings in disbelief. But Sabrina? She just accepted it and went with the flow. Complicated stuff was too tiring. 

That's how it had always been all her life.

She approached the table and received her pickaxe and bracelet. With a sneer, she examined the bracelet, turning it over in her hand.

"Looks like a piece of junk," she muttered under her breath. "I doubt it'll be worth anything."

Though she'd seen far worse junk, courtesy to her days in the Fifth Regiment. She was still gobsmacked at the intentional quality degradation of nearly every tool or equipment since she came here.

Heck, even the dungeons and prisons of a Tier 5 Colony had security measures and technology twenty times better than this penal colony.

It seemed her late Commander's words that X-542 was a relic of the Chaos Era held some actual truth. Poor sod, at least she made his death quick and painless.

Despite the TS-Collar on her neck, her sensitivity caused her to detect the use of Mana from the Warden, and this effectively stopped her train of thoughts, bringing her back to the present.

Without another word, Warden Grondar motioned for Sabrina, Ishtar and the others to join the noisy parade of prisoners. The group of inmates, all with their own thoughts and fears, shuffled along behind the Captain, a man whose face was as cold and unfeeling as the stone walls around them.

And it was in this jumble of sweaty bodies and curses flying along with saliva that the inmates were led to the entrance of the mine, a massive cavern that looked like the gaping maw of a large monster, inviting them into the endless darkness within.

Unlike the other new inmates, Sabrina moved with a sense of ease nearly rivalling X-542's old-timers, as she had no problem adjusting to the dark caves, and walked in regardless.

The Captain stationed guards at the peripherals and at the entrance. But in essence, they were just there for the formality. 

X-542 was a completely uninhabitable planet.

So anyone who attempted an escape would die from hunger and exhaustion, that was if they even survived a night without freezing to death.

After all the prisoners had entered the cavern, the Captain moved a bit farther, his blue skin glinted with sweat under the red sun.

Walking was a bit difficult, as the mines, here at the east of X-542, were so full of sand that you could sink inside, the fact that the sand was hot because of the sun only added to the prisoners predicament, as they were all left barefoot, though, with time, most of them had learned to tie their feet with rags.

Such was the fate of the wicked.

He tapped an implant on his nape, and made a call on his neurochip.

Beep-!

The other side connected, and a raspy voice spoke out, one the inmates would have recognized as Old Conny.

"Oh! Khafre boyo! You've been contacted eh?"

Captain Khafre's cold expression cracked a fraction, but he controlled it, focusing on the serious matter at hand.

"Apparently so, I was told "take care of her" without any bodily injuries. I told them I would consider it, but I'm sure I'm not the only being contacted by 'them'."

"Sigh... Poor girl, well at least I gave her a chance."

"Is that why you said the 'Chief Warden' was absent?"

"Yeah, I can't just send her without an excuse, lest those bastards suspect something."

"I see," The Captain sighed, having confirmed his suspicions, he was curious about something else." Did she truly kill–"

"Enough about that," he was cut off immediately. "What about that crazy bitch, causing any trouble for you?"

"Oh, her. Well.... She seems a bit too enthusiastic to befriend 'her'."

"Hoh? That means she saw it too."

Khafre's curiosity was piqued once more,"Saw what?"

Beep-! Beep-!

He hung up.

"..."

This old geezer always found new ways to annoy him.

---

Ishtar wasted no time in entering the inviting abyss that was the mine's entrance. And as she stepped in, her feet was cooled by the damp ground of the cave, having been burnt red by the hot sand of the vicinity.

She looked around, and saw as the regular inmates moved with practiced familiarity and went to work, the sound of pickaxes clinking against rock walls dominating the atmosphere in no time.

With a few deep breaths, she too walked further in, and nearly choked at the thick smell of sulfur that permeated the air.

Ishtar took a few deep breaths, steeling herself against the oppressive atmosphere. She weaved her way through the working bodies with difficulty, the cramped and dusty tunnels making it hard to move.

The only light sources were the torches hung on the walls, flickering shadows of the prisoners and their tools dancing on the walls, adding a surreal touch of life to the gloomy atmosphere, one that gave an illusion of lingering hope, an illusion she wouldn't, _couldn't_ fall for.

It was an intentionally degrading environment, designed to break the spirits of the prisoners and crush any hope they had left.

Whoever designed this penal colony was definitely a devious fellow.

The mine was a vast and sprawling network of tunnels and caves that one could get lost in if one strayed too far from the herd, so Ishtar took note to stay by the peripherals.

After a few minutes, Ishtar found a location that was optimal for her needs. It wasn't too isolated, but it was far enough away from the others to give her some space to work. The ore she mined would automatically be warped into the bracelets she wore, so she didn't need to worry about gathering it up.

Heaving the pickaxe up, her arm went down.

Clink-!

The tremors travelled through her limbs and nearly made her drop the pickaxe, but she persevered and gave it another hit.

She could feel the sweat trickling down her back, the heavy overalls doing little to protect her from the heat of the mines.

The thought of using Mana to strengthen her body flashed through her mind, but it wasn't feasible. The collars around their necks prevented the prisoners from using their powers.

Ishtar had tried to sense the Mana in her body once, and the electric shocks she received from the collar had been enough to kill an average human ten times over.

 If she hadn't been a 4th rank Transcendent, it would have fried her nervous system, leaving her paralyzed for the rest of her life.

As she worked, the other prisoners around her continued to mine. The chaotic harmony of the clinking pickaxes filled the air, and Ishtar found herself gradually merging her hits with the others, finding a rhythm that helped her to work more efficiently.

Sweat lined her taut and curvy figure hidden beneath the baggy overalls. For someone that was tall for a human, standing at 187 metres, she always stood out like a sore thumb.

Hours had passed, but she didn't stop, not bothering to keep count. Several of the inmates had sat down to rest. But Ishtar couldn't, her guts told her she'd need all she could mine.

Jolting her out of her rhythm, a repulsing cackle sounded to her left, just at the entrance to the deviating tunnel she was mining. Ishtar turned to see two humans, a man and a woman, sneering at her.

"Kekeke. If it isn't our dear Princess!" the woman said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I know right? Fancy meeting her here," the man replied, a twisted smile on his lips.

Finally. She thought she'd have to wait till the end of the day.

They had delivered themselves to her footsteps.

•

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Trivia:

Major Race 1:Humans

Description:They are a anthropomorphic race who instead of blue skin, possess a variety of skins that range from pale white, to ebony black. Unlike the Kalui, the edges of their ears are not pointed, and the average height of a human is 169 cm.The life expectancy of a non-Transcedent human is about 200 years.

Gender Classification: Male and female

First Known Emergence: 119th year of the reign of Tutankhmen II

Trait: Psyche veil. It grants the humans the ability to extend their mental power a few inches outward.

Population: As at the reign of Rameses VI. The Imperial Census recorded approximately 12 trillion humans.

Military Prowess: While the human Trait is known to be the weakest of all, the adaptability and creativity of humans allowed them to create piloted mechanized neuro-cybernetic robots. And have learned to manipulate these machines they call "Mecha" with their special Psyche Veil Trait. This has placed the planet Terra A-1 on the pedestal alongside Kin A-1, Orca A-1, and Namek A-1, as one of the four Tier 1 Colonies. Their army is known as the Taegon Troops.

Planets: There are currently 133 _known_ human planets, with the Taegon Dynasty being at the helm of affairs, inhabiting Terra A-1.

Diplomatic Relations: While humans strive to maintain peaceful diplomatic relations, they are known to encourage war when asked for it.

External Standpoint: On the galactic scene, humans are usually disdained for their overdependence on technology, and the fact that their Transcendents rely on "Mecha" to fight Transcendents of other races. Another reason they're ostracized is their attitude to Religion.

Humans are known to treat religion casually. And while they are both aware of and revere the Pantheon, their subservience is mediocre compared to the other races. The result of their attitude to religion is that they have no patron deity, gaining further contempt as the other Four Major races have Seated gods as their patron deity in the Pantheon.

Random Fact: It's normal for a human to call another human "human". But it's offensive when a non-human does so, as their racial name from the galactic perspective is called Terran.