On the eve of my sixth birthday, the earth's core erupted, wiping out half of the world's population. That's when they came out from their hidden cities etched deep in the core ; a race of humans who called  themselves the "Dark Seaters". It was wasn't the most creative name but it wasn't a baseless one either. They had lived in eternally dark cities. The only light illuminating their world was the ever boiling lava of the earth's core that they used to power their machines.

So why did they suddenly appear? It was because they claimed we had become a threat to the world they had claimed as their own. We, an offshoot of their descendants, had become a disease they sort to 'cure'.

For millennium the Earth's core had remained a mystery to us. It was the source of our planet's life and the threat of impending doom all at once. At least that's what we thought.

When they came out of their hidden cities, the Dark Seaters showed us exactly what the core was : a weapon they constructed to safeguard their civilization from all threats. When they came, the rest of our population that they hadn't killed with their weapon was forced to work in the mines. They cared not for the precious gems that we had fought over. They wanted coal and the very rock that made the core to build and power their weapons.

For ten years I have lived in the mining settlements that they built to contain us. At first I lived with my parents whilst they worked horrendous hours by the mines. When I turned thirteen I too was dragged out into the shafts and given my tasks.

I didn't do the digging, thankfully , but I helped carry and transport the ore to the processing chambers. Everyone knew they used the ore to make their machines and weapons. What I've always been curious about is how they fashioned their machines.

I've always been a tinker at heart and the idea that these people made their machines in a way that was foreign to me had always been intriguing. Today I had decided that I would quell my curiosity and sneak into the master forges.

For weeks I had been entertaining the idea. Greta, my somewhat best friend had taken upon herself the role of my voice of reason, always trying to deter me from my ambitions. That is exactly what she did today the moment I declared my intention.

"No, you can't be serious!" She said in distress. "You could get caught."

"I won't." I replied with a mischievous grin.

"But you could!" She persisted. "I'm not sure this is worth the risk. They leave us alone as long as we play our part."

"And what part is that? Perfectly obedient work mules?" I challenged. "There must be more than this. There has to be."

And with that I left her gaping at me as I ran off to my goal.

The fastest way to the forges was via the goods train ; the mode of transporting the ore that I had helped utilize for three years now. Whilst the steam engines that power the big scary serpentine trains could terrify anyone, they were part of a world I enjoyed.

The forges were much larger up close than the occasional glimpse I am used to getting. The cold concrete walls had a haunting look to them and the jets of steam that were rising up to the sky from the vents added to that look.

The train stopped a little outside the gates, with guards coming out to inspect the load. This made me a bit nervous at the prospect of getting caught but when they completely passed by my hiding spot without stopping I was able to breath easy.

When the train finally pulled in to its offloading spot, I gingerly made my way into the the assembling hall.

A large conveyor belt system was set in place right in the middle and multiple pieces of steel and parts were being assembled together. The sight was enchanting and I could not help but draw closer to closely observe the process.

I was curious about what kind of machine they were  creating and didn't even here when someone approached me.

"What are you doing here?"

As soon as I saw him, I knew he was a Dark seater. His complexion was milky pale, his eyes a silver white.

I hesitated. Perhaps I hadn't thought this plan through.