This day was exceptionally stressful for Ferrick. As he left the factory, he felt the piercing gazes of his coworkers on him. He had the impression that he had become someone foreign—someone no one wanted anything to do with. Thoughts swirled in his mind, and he couldn't understand why he had even started a conversation with Zeilendorf. It seemed to him that he had only made things worse, even though he had spoken the truth that he had kept in his heart for so long.
Along with the other workers, he passed through the huge steel doors and stepped out into the Tropos district. This part of the Lower Level was filled with massive industrial plants and apartment blocks rented to factory workers. Poverty and unpleasant smells lingered here just like in most parts of this level, but there was one more thing that made this place stand out—the air. It had an unnatural, almost black hue, like a thick fog suspended in the air. Even though the air quality across the entire level was exceptionally poor today, such a sight didn't surprise anyone here. The smog rising from the numerous factory chimneys effectively polluted the atmosphere. The apartment blocks, which in other parts of the level were at least a dull gray, here were almost completely black—covered with layers of soot and smoke that settled on every building and street.
The air was so thick that the long lamps protruding from the Lower Level ceiling were almost invisible and provided virtually no light. For this reason, many workers used small flashlights with large bulbs called Sparkly. Their strong light cut through the smog better than the factory lights, though even they couldn't fully illuminate the surrounding darkness.
Ferrick suspected that the biggest contributor to this was the enormous Alaric Weismann Lightbulb Factory, whose smoking chimneys continuously spewed dark-gray plumes of pollution into the sky.
Walking along the cracked sidewalk, Ferrick pondered what else he should do today before reaching the tram stop. Although he felt exhausted and overwhelmed, he knew he couldn't go home empty-handed. He had to stop by the store to buy at least the most basic products, like bread. Although most of the shelves were usually empty—residents typically shopped in the morning, hoping to beat everyone else, though even then the selection wasn't great—maybe he could still find something. He wouldn't make it through the rest of the day on an empty stomach. He needed something to munch on to calm his stress.
Suddenly, a massive figure appeared in his path. Before Ferrick could raise his gaze, the stranger violently tore off his mask and, with full force, punched him directly in the face. Without giving him a moment to react, the man grabbed him by the neck and shoved him into a dark alley.
Dazed, Ferrick had no idea what was happening. He felt his back hit the cold, black wall, and the strong grip on his throat made it impossible to catch his breath. In the dim light, he could barely make out the figure of his attacker, but after a moment, he noticed he wasn't alone. Behind him stood two more men, watching the whole event unfold.
After a while, the man holding Ferrick finally spoke.
- You pathetic freak! How dare you say such things to a member of the TDP?! Because of you, our factory might suffer even more! You have no idea, idiot, how much this could have angered them!
Ferrick regained some clarity and focused his gaze on his attacker's eyes. They were intensely blue, and under the gas mask, he could see that they were filled with tears.
He wanted to say something but didn't manage. The man swung again and struck him directly in the face. Ferrick collapsed to the ground, feeling his body hit something sharp. A sharp pain shot through him—he had probably landed on broken glass. He clenched his teeth, trying to stifle a groan. Warm blood began to slowly trickle down his forehead, mixing with the dirt on the ground.
- I've heard about you before. You think just because you have nothing left to lose, others don't too? - the attacker snarled, clenching his fist. - I've got a little son, you understand? He's seriously ill. I can't afford anything because all the money I earn goes toward his treatment.
Ferrick tried to shield his face with his hand, but the attacker was quicker. He swung again and hit him in the face—this time with even more force than before.
- We could've soothed Zeilendorf later! If you hadn't opposed him, maybe he would've rewarded us for our loyalty! But you messed it all up! - he screamed, his voice filled not only with fury but also desperation and despair. - Because of bastards like you, our level is falling apart!
The words echoed off the walls of the narrow alley, and the anger turned into brutal force. The man threw himself at Ferrick and began hitting him relentlessly, as if each blow was meant to relieve his own helplessness.
- Phil, stop. You've shown him enough - one of the two observers replied, trying to break up the violent scene.
- Shut up! He deserves this! - the attacker yelled, still full of rage.
At that moment, he noticed a brick lying near the wall. Without hesitation, he reached for it, lifted it above his head, and struck Ferrick on the top of the head. Blood began to spurt everywhere, but Ferrick's condition seemed stable. Though his vision was blurred, he could still sense what was happening around him.
When the blue-eyed man lifted the bloodied brick again, at the last moment, his blow was stopped by the second observer.
- Calm down! Do you want to kill him? They'll transfer you to the Disposable Level! What will I tell your wife and son then? - he said in a stern voice. - Get up, idiot, we're leaving before anyone notices us.
Phil, panting and worked up, took one last look at Ferrick. Breathing heavily, he stood, threw the brick right next to the battered face of the victim, and then turned to him in a gruff, low voice.
- You don't deserve to call yourself a human.
All three quickly left the scene of the massacre and disappeared into the thick, dark fog, leaving Ferrick alone.
He struggled to breathe. Slowly, he rose from the ground, and sharp pieces of glass began to fall off his bloodied back. After a moment, he collapsed again, this time sitting on the ground by the black wall of one of the local apartment blocks. A huge bump had formed on his head, from which blood and pus flowed, and his nose seemed completely broken. His face was completely bruised, and his work clothes were stained a deep red. One of his eyes was swollen shut and bruised, making it hard for him to see. He suddenly began to cough intensely. The familiar pain in his lungs returned with twice the force. He coughed for several long minutes until he finally managed to catch his breath. As he sat there, surrounded by numerous factories and apartment blocks, he looked up. Everywhere he could see metal grates and long lamps that separated the Lower Level from the Upper Level.
Ferrick sank into deep thought. Did such tragedies also happen on the Upper Level? Do people there have even a fraction of the worries that those who live below have? Is that place a paradise where everyone fulfills their dreams?
He began to rememberthe moment when he sat on the roof with Elena, under the cover of night. Shehad told him then that her deepest wish was to live on the Upper Level. Hehadn't fully understood it. After all, on the Lower Level, they had everythingthey needed to survive. Nothing was missing. Now, however, he began to see thetrue motivation behind her dreams. Tears filled his eyes, and his hearttightened with longing. He began to sob, still gazing into the distance,towards the unreachable heights. He missed her so much.