The inside of the Baiulus felt nothing like a slave barrack.
Cold metal, yes.
Cramped space, yes.
But there was a sense of structure—intention—that none of them were used to.
Rows of steel benches lined both sides of the first carriage, bolted into the floor. Thick straps dangled overhead for stability. The walls were layered with insulation panels humming faintly from the internal heating units, and vents exhaled warmth in slow, steady breaths. The air smelled of oil, metal, and faint traces of antiseptic.
Junia ran her fingers along one of the panels.
"Feels like sitting inside a giant radiator," she muttered.
Varik didn't disagree.
Compared to the barracks, this was almost… comfortable.
Which was unsettling in its own way.
When everyone had boarded, the heavy back doors slammed shut. A locking bolt the size of Varik's forearm clamped into place. Then the floor beneath them vibrated—deep and constant—as the engine roared alive.
A moment later, a voice echoed through the intercom.
The buyer's voice.
"Your transport to the Inner Sector will take approximately two days. You will remain seated unless otherwise instructed."
The line clicked off.
Junia blinked. "…Two days?"
Rhem raised his eyebrow "What do you mean? Any other mode of transport and it would take at least a five. This is the probably the fastest military grade transport so two days is a luxury. The Outer City and the entirety of the slums are massive."
Varik leaned back, absorbing that.
Two days.
For a machine this size, moving at military speed.
Yet that man—Foyd—had crossed from who-knows-where in probably less than an hour when he came for Lux.
The thought prickled under Varik's skin.
If this Baiulus represented the fastest normal travel the military had…
then the man who tore through Sector C that night was something else entirely.
Just how powerful was he?
How could a human travel that fast?
The engine growled, and the Baiulus lurched forward, smooth but heavy, like an armored beast marching through snow.
Hours passed in the hum of metal and distant storms.
The Baiulus had no windows—only narrow vents too small to see through—so the outside world might as well not have existed.
Some slept.
Some talked quietly.
Some simply stared at the floor, their minds elsewhere.
Junia eventually broke the monotony.
"So," she said, nudging Varik's arm lightly. "Two days stuck in here. Might as well talk, right?"
Varik raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
"Anything. Everything. It's so boring in here."
Rhem sighed. "A little silence is good for the brain you know.."
Junia rolled her eyes at him, then settled into a more serious tone.
"You remember yesterday," she said to Varik, looking down at her hands. "When Elara said her thanks. And you stood up for her."
Varik looked away. "I didn't think. My just body moved on it's own. It was a stupid thing to do."
"Sometimes that's the only time people show who they really are," she said quietly.
He wasn't sure how to respond to that.
Junia leaned back, legs stretched out. "You wanna know something that's really stupid?" She brushed her short lavender hair away from her eyes. "When I was younger—maybe ten?—my older brother used to tell me that the Outer City was going to crumble someday. That everything built too fast eventually falls. He would say when that happens we will finally be able to visit the Middle City and eat actual food and see all the sights of our amazing city. Unlike most people who saw the impending collapse of the outer city as a doomsday he saw it as an opportunity to live better. He was wanted it to fall."
Varik listened, eyes steady.
"Well," she continued, "it did. Or at least our part of it did.
A whole section actually, I'm sure you've heard of it. Bad construction, weak supports… no one cared enough to fix it. People screamed. Ran. Some never got out." A breath, slow and controlled. "My brother shoved me behind a broken pillar and shielded me when the second collapse hit. Pretty fucked up way to go right? Killed by the one thing you thought would give you freedom."
Rhem lowered his gaze.
Varik's grey eyes softened, just barely.
Junia shrugged, trying to play it off. "After that? No one else wanted me so the slums took me. And eventually the slavers." A forced smirk. "So yeah, I guess"
Varik didn't speak at first.
He didn't know how to.
But he sat a little closer.
Rhem cleared his throat. "I guess it's my turn next."
Junia smirked. "Look at us. Trauma circle."
Then looked at her with blankly. Then he sighed. "I used to be an apprentice mechanic. Good at it, too. My master wasn't rich, but he was honest. Paid debts on time. Then a supply deal went bad—really bad. Someone he owed money to wanted it back, doubled. They were some Loan Sharks. Not the kind you argue with."
Varik frowned. "So they sold you?"
"No," Rhem said. "They killed him.The business fell apart. I tried keeping it running but without his permits, I couldn't. So I borrowed… too much. To try and save it. And when I couldn't pay back what I owed—"
He gestured around.
"Here I am."
Junia let out a low whistle. "You really have the worst luck."
"You think?" Rhem said dryly. "Sold four times. Ended up at the camp three months ago. Honestly, I expected to die there."
Varik tapped his fingers against his knee. "…You two actually told me things."
Junia nudged him. "Yeah. And now it's your turn."
Rhem crossed his arms. "We told ours. Fair's fair."
Varik let the silence linger. He watched his hands. His wrists. The faint tremble in them when he remembered Lux's scream.
"…I lived in the slums," he said quietly. "Not much to tell. Just… survival . One day at a time." He paused. "Then… some crazy stuff happened and people came. People who took everything from me."
Junia's expression softened. Rhem nodded slowly.
"That's why you're here?" Rhem asked.
"Part of it," Varik replied.
He didn't mention the nights he woke up sweating, hearing Lux's voice echo inside his skull and image of Gavin's crushed body under the rubble.
He didn't mention the fury that sat in his chest like a burning coal.
He didn't mention the faint glow in his eyes that he tried so hard to ignore.
He didn't need to.
Junia started at him curiously with her piercing red eyes but didn't pry any further.
Rhem coughed, "Well this has been some quality bonding time. I think we should get some rest. I know we all must be a bit tired."
Both of them nodded in agreement and attempted to fall asleep despite the turbulent sounds of the treading vehicle.
On the second night, the Baiulus began to slow.
The hum of its engines deepened.
The metal under their feet vibrated differently—more controlled, less wild and uneven.
Junia stood. Rhem cracked his neck. Varik braced himself.
Then—
The Baiulus locked into place.
The doors unsealed with a heavy hydraulic hiss, letting in a breath of colder, cleaner air than anything from the slums — subtly different, subtly controlled, almost artificial.
When the doors opened fully, the world outside was…
Massive.
They stepped out into a fortified complex surrounded by towering steel walls that stretched high enough to vanish into swirling snow. Lamps lined the perimeter, flooding the area in pale white light. Soldiers marched in regulated patterns. Watchtowers peered down with mechanical precision. Massive cables ran between structures, carrying power across the entire base.
This wasn't a camp.
This was a machine built for war.
Rhem let out a low breath. "This is… something else."
Junia murmured, "Never seen anything like this."
Varik's grey eyes narrowed slightly, absorbing everything—the guards, the walls, the paths, the exits.
Junia bumped his shoulder. "Scared yet?"
"I've never been scared." Varik said.
But his heart thudded once—sharp and cold.
Something heavier than fear.
Resolve.
The buyer stepped forward from near the entrance, flanked by escorts in white armored uniforms.
"Welcome," he announced.
His voice carried effortlessly across the snow.
"Candidates… this is where your new hell awaits and where you will build your own heaven ."
Varik didn't know .
But he knew one thing:
There was no turning back now.