Rebellion.

"Today," Krobe had said, "there may be triumph. Today, there may be loss. But no matter what the consequence, we will work against the evils in this world, and the meek shall inherit the earth."

The voice echoed in Tic Synkrat Ideo's head, tickling him with needle-sharp fingernails as he trailed behind the group. Krobe always began with that speech, and every time Tic responded with a shudder of courage -- but perhaps it was just of pure terror.

Today, they were traveling to Galesing -- a rich town, infested with Uniforms and spoiled aristocrats. This city was the center of slave trade, beneficial only to the excessively opulent. It was infamous among the members of Sink; a good handful or so were escaped slaves themselves.

The plans had been made months before. A passage was to be built by the Galesing Regiment that lead directly towards the main auction grounds to a midpoint between New Jeda and Galesing. The New Jeda Regiment would work on the same passage from their end, meeting at the midpoint. Supplies, weapons, and roles would be distributed between the two groups. In a collaboration of courage and determination, the two Sink regiments would fight, however violent it may be, to release their fellow men and women from their immoral bindings.

Tic was to, as they put it, "work with the women". He didn't take offense; no, that was a waste of energy. It didn't matter, anyhow. The women were to guide freed slaves into the mole hole whilst the men fought off anyone who tried to stop them. Tic was actually quite relieved to not have been chosen as a fighter; he may have been beaten to bits if that was so. All he had to worry about was getting caught, which was, in his opinion, far worse than death.

The tunnel was dimly lit by torches distributed between the marching groups. Muffled footsteps echoed through the outstretched hall of dirt, especially distinguishable from the staid silence of the marching crowd. The smell of soil and clay was present, not aiding nor stirring Tic's silently growing fear. They were slowly approaching their destination, and soon, Tic knew, he would have to summon the courage buried deep within him to pull this off... somewhere, somehow. It truly was his first experience with the Sink regiment; he had been too young when they found him, and did not allow him to participate in such rebellions. A soft pat on the back from Krobe and an encouraging smile gave him slight ease, though he still felt as if a butterfly just burst from its cacoon inside his stomach.

They finally reached their molehole. A white light shined through the crevices; probably a light used to exhibit the slaves, Tic thought grimly. Tic stood near towards the end of the line, his heart beating in his ears. Everyone stood at arms, wielding hammers and axes. He watched, just barely able to breathe, as the doors were pushed. There was a pause. Several cries of battle broke out, and the entire group moved on as a whole.

Tic was rushed forward, on and on to the surface. He couldn't turn back now. Up he went, into the lights of the night. There, he surfaced, and suppressed a great gasp of shock.

Men, women, and children, all chained at the wrists, or to one another. Each face bore an expression of sadness so incomprehensible, Tic couldn't bear to look or move on. He felt the butterfly in his stomach take flight through his esophagus, but swallowed it back down. Several rough shoulders passed him sharply, and he was pushed forward. Coming to his senses, he joined the great stampede and charged on.

The Sink regiments swarmed into the auction grounds as smoothly as water filling a basin. Tic found himself at the base of the grounds, watching on as his fellow comrades tore and beat away at the slaves' bindings. The air was full of the clinking of metal upon metal, the screams of shock, the cries of battle, and the yelps of pain. Slave dealers and buyers were scrambling in every direction, yelling pointlessly at the scurrying Sink members. A faint cry drifted through the air, "Where are the guardians?!"

Tic stood in his spot, just gaping at the entire scene, the whole excitement of it all rendering him uncertain of what he was to do next. He felt lightheaded, and his heart was surely going to explode. Spinning around, he saw the Sink women hurrying slaves toward him and past him, to the molehole. He came to his senses, and rushed in to assist them.

A loud shriek suddenly pierced the air, one of panic and alert. "UNIFORMS!" Krobe cried, and Tic could see his massive body gesture toward the molehole. Tic looked to his left, watching as armed, official-looking men began to mix with scrambling mass. Sink members were rushing past him toward the molehole, as he stood, once again, uncertain of what to do. He twirled around with panic, trying to clear his mind and move his feet -- but a faint, helpless cry reached his ears. He turned back toward the auction grounds to see a young girl with lavender pink hair reaching out to him, her leg stuck in a chain attached to the platform. He cast away all fear as his eyes met with hers, running toward her with an outstretched hand.

Running with full speed and determination, he closed the space between him and the girl, his hand ready to clasp. And then he felt it; a cold grip seized the outstretched arm, jerking him away from the girl with amazing force. For a brief moment he caught a glimpse of horror in the girl's face, but the world spun away too fast.

As he was brought to his feet, he let out a delayed yelp of terror. He slowly followed the arm holding his own with his eyes, to meet with dead orange eyes. The man glared down at him with a piercing gaze, and Tic's body went suddenly numb and dull with fear. He returned the gaze, and they stared at one another for what seemed like eternity. Tic's head felt increasingly lighter as he stared on dimly. And before everything went black, he whispered reassuringly to himself, "I've been caught."