Heavenly Trials Manga

The neon sign above the trailer buzzed with the irritable hum of a dying insect. It read Ground support, thought the 'U' in ground was flickering out, Leaving the company to announce itself as Grond Support. It fit the aesthetic of the surrounding yard, which was a graveyard of rust excavators, Coils of orange conduit and piles of gravel that looked like forgotten burial mounds. Alex Barry stood at the Chain-link gate, the dust of three state lines coating his black cowboy boots. He was twenty-one, but the shadows under his eyes belonged to a man twice his age. He ran a hand through his short, cropped black hair, wincing as his shirt sleeve rode up. The ink on his forearm, a jagged tribal design he'd gotten in a basement parlor in New Mexico. Hidden again as he yanked the fabric down. He wasn't dealing today, He wasn't running packages. He was trying to vanish and the best place to disappear was beneath the earth. He pushed open the door to the office trailer. The air conditioning hit him like a physical blow, smelling of stale coffee and toner. “We aren’t buying whatever your selling, kid.” a voice rasped from behind a desk that looked more like a barricade of paperwork. Shane, the owner sat there like a toad on a lily pad. Squeezed into a polo shirt so tight and pristine white that it looked like it had been painted onto his soft, round torso. He didn't look up from his spreadsheet, his pen tapping a frantic rhythm. “I'm not selling,” Alex said his voice rough from days of silence. “I'm looking for work. Sign out front says you need laborers.” Shane finally looked up his eyes narrowing as they swept over Alex. He took in the dust, the nervous energy the way Alex stood with his weight on his back foot, ready to bolt. “I need laborers, Not liabilities. You got a rap sheet? You look like you got a rap sheet. I don't pay for insurance risks.” Alex clenched his jaw. “I work hard. I don't ask questions. That's my resume.” Shane waved his hand. “Get lost,” Returning to his papers. “Go peddle your drama somewhere else. This is a respectable establishment. Alex turned to leave, his hand gripping the doorknob. It was the same old story. The world saw the grim on him and assumed he was trash. He was about to step back out into the scorching heat when the light in the doorway was suddenly eclipsed. A mountain of a man blocked the exit. This was steel At forty-four, he was a wall of muscle and scar tissue, wearing biker boots that clunked heavily against the cheap linoleum. He had to duck to enter the trailer, his presence immediately sucking the oxygen out of the room. He smelled of diesel and wet earth. Steel looked down at Alex. It wasn't a glare, It was an inspection. He looked at Alex's face, then down to the dusty cowboy boots. “Nice boots,” Steel rumbled. His voice sounded like gravel tumbling inside a cement mixer. Alex didn't flinch “They walk fine.” Steel smirked, a terrifying expression that somehow reached his eyes, He looked past Alex to the man at the desk. “Hire him, Shane.” Shane sputtered, his face turning a shade of indignity pink. “Steel, look at him! Hes a stray. Probably steal the copper wire first chance he gets.” Steel steps closer to the desk. “Kid wears boots like that, he ain't running from work,” Steel said just as another figure steps inside. If steel was a mountain, Mathew was the sapling growing on the cliff edge. The Nineteen Year old squeezed past Steel. Carrying a hydraulic pump over his shoulder with effortless, wiry strength. Long blond hair flowed out from under a hardhat that had been modified with a wide brim, making it like a plastic Stetson. “Morning, Shane! Morning, Steel!” Mathew chirped
🌌 ASTRAL SOVEREIGN Episode 1 — “The Star That Fell” COLD OPEN EXT. NIGHT SKY – MOUNTAIN RANGE A vast star-filled sky stretches above jagged mountains. Wind moves slowly through drifting clouds. A distant meteor streaks across the sky. NARRATOR (V.O.) In a world where summoners bind creatures from distant realms… power determines the fate of kingdoms. The meteor grows brighter as it cuts across the night. NARRATOR (V.O.) For centuries, summoners have commanded spirits, beasts, and ancient entities beyond imagination. The meteor begins to fracture. Thousands of tiny glowing fragments scatter like falling stars. NARRATOR (V.O.) But once in a thousand years… the stars choose a sovereign. SCENE 1 EXT. CLIFFSIDE – NIGHT A lone figure stands on a cliff overlooking a vast valley. This is CIEL DOR. Silver-white hair moves in the wind. His long black coat flows behind him. He watches the sky. CIEL (quietly) That star… The meteor explodes into a brilliant cosmic flare. Suddenly— The constellations begin shifting. The sky rearranges itself into a glowing circular pattern. SCENE 2 CLOSE-UP – CIEL’S HAND A glowing ASTRAL SIGIL appears on his right hand. Blue light pulses through his arm. CIEL (startled) What…? The sigil spreads glowing energy. Wind erupts around him. SCENE 3 SKY ABOVE THE CLIFF The clouds form a massive summoning circle spanning the sky. Cosmic light pours downward. NARRATOR (V.O.) The Astral Realm had sensed its ruler. A deep mysterious voice echoes through the air. MYSTERIOUS VOICE (V.O.) The Sovereign has returned. Ciel looks around, confused. CIEL Who said that? SCENE 4 SUMMONING EVENT A glowing portal opens behind Ciel. Stars swirl inside it like a galaxy. Energy bursts outward. Ciel turns slowly. A massive silhouette appears within the portal. Heavy footsteps echo. SCENE 5 REVEAL – LYRA A gigantic CELESTIAL WOLF emerges. Its body is made of glowing stars and cosmic light. Particles drift from its fur like falling stardust. Ciel stares in shock. CIEL A… summon? The wolf steps forward. It lowers its massive head. Then kneels before him. SCENE 6 CIEL AND LYRA Ciel slowly raises his hand. He gently touches Lyra’s head. CIEL Why… are you bowing? Lyra speaks telepathically. LYRA (V.O.) Because you are the Astral Sovereign. Ciel’s eyes widen. CIEL Astral… Sovereign? SCENE 7 WIDE SHOT – CLIFF Ciel stands beside the massive celestial wolf beneath the starry sky. The summoning circle fades slowly. NARRATOR (V.O.) On that night, the heavens themselves chose their ruler. Lyra lifts its head and howls. The stars flare brightly across the sky. FINAL SCENE EXT. SKY – NIGHT The constellations shine brighter than ever. Far away… A dark crack forms in the sky. NARRATOR (V.O.) But every light casts a shadow. Deep within a distant dimension— A pair of red glowing eyes open in darkness. NARRATOR (V.O.) And the Void was beginning to stir. END OF EPISODE TEXT ON SCREEN: ASTRAL SOVEREIGN TO BE CONTINUED
Scene 1 – The Alarm Didn’t Ring 🖼️ Panel Description:
Close-up of a digital alarm clock showing 8:17 AM. Bright red numbers. School starts at 8:30. Morning sunlight blasting through bedroom window. Ren’s hand suddenly slams down onto the bed as he jolts awake. 🎭 Emotion:
Shock. Rare panic. 🌫️ Lighting:
Bright morning light flooding the room. 📌 Important Detail:
Ren without glasses here. His eyes look sharp and intense without them. 🎬 Scene 2 – Running Through Neighborhood 🖼️ Panel Description:
Wide shot of a quiet Japanese residential street. Houses, power lines, vending machines. Ren sprinting in school uniform, bag bouncing behind him. His tie slightly loose from rushing. 🎭 Emotion:
Focused but stressed. He hates being late. 🌫️ Lighting:
Crisp bright blue morning sky. 📌 Important Detail:
This should feel energetic and dynamic — motion blur on legs. 🎬 Scene 3 – First Sign of Malice 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren running past a salaryman standing at a crosswalk. The man looks exhausted, staring blankly ahead. Around the man’s shoulders floats faint black smoky aura. Ren turns his head slightly while running. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren – alert, observant.
Salaryman – drained, emotionless. 🌫️ Lighting:
Normal daylight, but the dark aura slightly distorts the air around it. 📌 Important Detail:
The aura should look subtle but unnatural — like smoke that moves against the wind. 🎬 Scene 4 – The Street Feels Wrong 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren slows down slightly as he runs through a busier intersection. Multiple people visible now — students, office workers. Several of them have darker, thicker Malice around them. Some have it trailing behind them like shadows stretching too long. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren’s expression shifts from annoyed to concerned. 🌫️ Lighting:
Still bright morning, but add faint shadow tones creeping into the corners of the panel. 📌 Important Detail:
This is unusual — normally only a few people have visible Malice. Today, there are many. This hints something is escalating. 🎬 Scene 5 – Close-Up: His Eyes Notice Everything 🖼️ Panel Description:
Close-up of Ren’s face while running. Wind pushing his hair back. In his pupils, reflections of dark smoke drifting through the crowd. 🎭 Emotion:
Subtle unease. He realizes something is off. 🌫️ Lighting:
Bright light on face, but reflection in eyes darker. 📌 Important Detail:
No glasses yet — his gaze looks sharper and more serious without them. 🎬 Scene 6 – A Student About to Rupture 🖼️ Panel Description:
A high school boy walking ahead of Ren. He’s clutching his chest slightly, looking irritated. Thick dark smoke is swirling violently around him — more aggressive than the others. The smoke twitches like it has claws. 🎭 Emotion:
The boy looks stressed and angry.
Ren looks alarmed. 🌫️ Lighting:
Slight shadow cast over this section of the sidewalk. 📌 Important Detail:
This Malice is unstable — it should look heavier, almost forming shape. 🎬 Scene 7 – The Almost Touch 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren reaches out while still jogging and lightly bumps into the stressed student’s shoulder. The moment their shoulders touch— Black smoke flows rapidly from the student into Ren like it’s being vacuumed. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren winces slightly from the sudden intensity.
The other student looks confused, like a headache just disappeared. 🌫️ Lighting:
Brief dark flash effect around Ren’s chest. 📌 Important Detail:
Inside Ren’s chest area, faint dark swirl appears again — slightly bigger than before. 🎬 Scene 8 – Inside His Mind (Very Brief Flash) 🖼️ Panel Description:
Dark cathedral-like void. Massive chained shadow creature. A thin stream of smoke falls from above and merges into it. One chain rattles loudly. 🎭 Emotion:
Oppressive. Watching. 🌫️ Lighting:
Deep black with faint red glow from creature’s eyes. 📌 Important Detail:
This time the creature’s head slightly lifts. 🎬 Scene 9 – School Gates in View 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren finally sees the school gates in the distance. Students flooding in. But above the school building… A faint dark haze hovering like a storm cloud. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren looks unsettled. 🌫️ Lighting:
Bright morning sky — but the haze above the school subtly darkens that area. 📌 Important Detail:
This is visual foreshadowing. The Malice concentration is strongest at school. 🎬 Scene 10 – He Puts On His Glasses 🖼️ Panel Description:
Close-up of Ren stopping just before entering school grounds. He pulls his glasses from his pocket and slowly puts them on. His expression becomes calm again. 🎭 Emotion:
Controlled. Composed. Mask on. 🌫️ Lighting:
Light reflects off lenses dramatically. 📌 Important Detail:
When the glasses settle on his face, the dark haze becomes slightly clearer in his vision — like focusing a lens. This suggests:
The glasses are a limiter and a focusing tool.
The neon sign above the trailer buzzed with the irritable hum of a dying insect. It read Ground support, thought the 'U' in ground was flickering out, Leaving the company to announce itself as Grond Support. It fit the aesthetic of the surrounding yard, which was a graveyard of rust excavators, Coils of orange conduit and piles of gravel that looked like forgotten burial mounds. Alex Barry stood at the Chain-link gate, the dust of three state lines coating his black cowboy boots. He was twenty-one, but the shadows under his eyes belonged to a man twice his age. He ran a hand through his short, cropped black hair, wincing as his shirt sleeve rode up. The ink on his forearm, a jagged tribal design he'd gotten in a basement parlor in New Mexico. Hidden again as he yanked the fabric down. He wasn't dealing today, He wasn't running packages. He was trying to vanish and the best place to disappear was beneath the earth. He pushed open the door to the office trailer. The air conditioning hit him like a physical blow, smelling of stale coffee and toner. “We aren’t buying whatever your selling, kid.” a voice rasped from behind a desk that looked more like a barricade of paperwork. Shane, the owner sat there like a toad on a lily pad. Squeezed into a polo shirt so tight and pristine white that it looked like it had been painted onto his soft, round torso. He didn't look up from his spreadsheet, his pen tapping a frantic rhythm. “I'm not selling,” Alex said his voice rough from days of silence. “I'm looking for work. Sign out front says you need laborers.” Shane finally looked up his eyes narrowing as they swept over Alex. He took in the dust, the nervous energy the way Alex stood with his weight on his back foot, ready to bolt. “I need laborers, Not liabilities. You got a rap sheet? You look like you got a rap sheet. I don't pay for insurance risks.” Alex clenched his jaw. “I work hard. I don't ask questions. That's my resume.” Shane waved his hand. “Get lost,” Returning to his papers. “Go peddle your drama somewhere else. This is a respectable establishment. Alex turned to leave, his hand gripping the doorknob. It was the same old story. The world saw the grim on him and assumed he was trash. He was about to step back out into the scorching heat when the light in the doorway was suddenly eclipsed. A mountain of a man blocked the exit. This was steel At forty-four, he was a wall of muscle and scar tissue, wearing biker boots that clunked heavily against the cheap linoleum. He had to duck to enter the trailer, his presence immediately sucking the oxygen out of the room. He smelled of diesel and wet earth. Steel looked down at Alex. It wasn't a glare, It was an inspection. He looked at Alex's face, then down to the dusty cowboy boots. “Nice boots,” Steel rumbled. His voice sounded like gravel tumbling inside a cement mixer. Alex didn't flinch “They walk fine.” Steel smirked, a terrifying expression that somehow reached his eyes, He looked past Alex to the man at the desk. “Hire him, Shane.” Shane sputtered, his face turning a shade of indignity pink. “Steel, look at him! Hes a stray. Probably steal the copper wire first chance he gets.” Steel steps closer to the desk. “Kid wears boots like that, he ain't running from work,” Steel said just as another figure steps inside. If steel was a mountain, Mathew was the sapling growing on the cliff edge. The Nineteen Year old squeezed past Steel. Carrying a hydraulic pump over his shoulder with effortless, wiry strength. Long blond hair flowed out from under a hardhat that had been modified with a wide brim, making it like a plastic Stetson. “Morning, Shane! Morning, Steel!” Mathew chirped
The neon sign above the trailer buzzed with the irritable hum of a dying insect. It read Ground support, thought the 'U' in ground was flickering out, Leaving the company to announce itself as Grond Support. It fit the aesthetic of the surrounding yard, which was a graveyard of rust excavators, Coils of orange conduit and piles of gravel that looked like forgotten burial mounds. Alex Barry stood at the Chain-link gate, the dust of three state lines coating his black cowboy boots. He was twenty-one, but the shadows under his eyes belonged to a man twice his age. He ran a hand through his short, cropped black hair, wincing as his shirt sleeve rode up. The ink on his forearm, a jagged tribal design he'd gotten in a basement parlor in New Mexico. Hidden again as he yanked the fabric down. He wasn't dealing today, He wasn't running packages. He was trying to vanish and the best place to disappear was beneath the earth. He pushed open the door to the office trailer. The air conditioning hit him like a physical blow, smelling of stale coffee and toner. “We aren’t buying whatever your selling, kid.” a voice rasped from behind a desk that looked more like a barricade of paperwork. Shane, the owner sat there like a toad on a lily pad. Squeezed into a polo shirt so tight and pristine white that it looked like it had been painted onto his soft, round torso. He didn't look up from his spreadsheet, his pen tapping a frantic rhythm. “I'm not selling,” Alex said his voice rough from days of silence. “I'm looking for work. Sign out front says you need laborers.” Shane finally looked up his eyes narrowing as they swept over Alex. He took in the dust, the nervous energy the way Alex stood with his weight on his back foot, ready to bolt. “I need laborers, Not liabilities. You got a rap sheet? You look like you got a rap sheet. I don't pay for insurance risks.” Alex clenched his jaw. “I work hard. I don't ask questions. That's my resume.” Shane waved his hand. “Get lost,” Returning to his papers. “Go peddle your drama somewhere else. This is a respectable establishment. Alex turned to leave, his hand gripping the doorknob. It was the same old story. The world saw the grim on him and assumed he was trash. He was about to step back out into the scorching heat when the light in the doorway was suddenly eclipsed. A mountain of a man blocked the exit. This was steel At forty-four, he was a wall of muscle and scar tissue, wearing biker boots that clunked heavily against the cheap linoleum. He had to duck to enter the trailer, his presence immediately sucking the oxygen out of the room. He smelled of diesel and wet earth. Steel looked down at Alex. It wasn't a glare, It was an inspection. He looked at Alex's face, then down to the dusty cowboy boots. “Nice boots,” Steel rumbled. His voice sounded like gravel tumbling inside a cement mixer. Alex didn't flinch “They walk fine.” Steel smirked, a terrifying expression that somehow reached his eyes, He looked past Alex to the man at the desk. “Hire him, Shane.” Shane sputtered, his face turning a shade of indignity pink. “Steel, look at him! Hes a stray. Probably steal the copper wire first chance he gets.” Steel steps closer to the desk. “Kid wears boots like that, he ain't running from work,” Steel said just as another figure steps inside. If steel was a mountain, Mathew was the sapling growing on the cliff edge. The Nineteen Year old squeezed past Steel. Carrying a hydraulic pump over his shoulder with effortless, wiry strength. Long blond hair flowed out from under a hardhat that had been modified with a wide brim, making it like a plastic Stetson
The neon sign above the trailer buzzed with the irritable hum of a dying insect. It read Ground support, thought the 'U' in ground was flickering out, Leaving the company to announce itself as Grond Support. It fit the aesthetic of the surrounding yard, which was a graveyard of rust excavators, Coils of orange conduit and piles of gravel that looked like forgotten burial mounds. Alex Barry stood at the Chain-link gate, the dust of three state lines coating his black cowboy boots. He was twenty-one, but the shadows under his eyes belonged to a man twice his age. He ran a hand through his short, cropped black hair, wincing as his shirt sleeve rode up. The ink on his forearm, a jagged tribal design he'd gotten in a basement parlor in New Mexico. Hidden again as he yanked the fabric down. He wasn't dealing today, He wasn't running packages. He was trying to vanish and the best place to disappear was beneath the earth. He pushed open the door to the office trailer. The air conditioning hit him like a physical blow, smelling of stale coffee and toner. “We aren’t buying whatever your selling, kid.” a voice rasped from behind a desk that looked more like a barricade of paperwork. Shane, the owner sat there like a toad on a lily pad. Squeezed into a polo shirt so tight and pristine white that it looked like it had been painted onto his soft, round torso. He didn't look up from his spreadsheet, his pen tapping a frantic rhythm. “I'm not selling,” Alex said his voice rough from days of silence. “I'm looking for work. Sign out front says you need laborers.” Shane finally looked up his eyes narrowing as they swept over Alex. He took in the dust, the nervous energy the way Alex stood with his weight on his back foot, ready to bolt. “I need laborers, Not liabilities. You got a rap sheet? You look like you got a rap sheet. I don't pay for insurance risks.” Alex clenched his jaw. “I work hard. I don't ask questions. That's my resume.” Shane waved his hand. “Get lost,” Returning to his papers. “Go peddle your drama somewhere else. This is a respectable establishment. Alex turned to leave, his hand gripping the doorknob. It was the same old story. The world saw the grim on him and assumed he was trash. He was about to step back out into the scorching heat when the light in the doorway was suddenly eclipsed. A mountain of a man blocked the exit. This was steel At forty-four, he was a wall of muscle and scar tissue, wearing biker boots that clunked heavily against the cheap linoleum. He had to duck to enter the trailer, his presence immediately sucking the oxygen out of the room. He smelled of diesel and wet earth. Steel looked down at Alex. It wasn't a glare, It was an inspection. He looked at Alex's face, then down to the dusty cowboy boots. “Nice boots,” Steel rumbled. His voice sounded like gravel tumbling inside a cement mixer. Alex didn't flinch “They walk fine.” Steel smirked, a terrifying expression that somehow reached his eyes, He looked past Alex to the man at the desk. “Hire him, Shane.” Shane sputtered, his face turning a shade of indignity pink. “Steel, look at him! Hes a stray. Probably steal the copper wire first chance he gets.” Steel steps closer to the desk. “Kid wears boots like that, he ain't running from work,” Steel said just as another figure steps inside. If steel was a mountain, Mathew was the sapling growing on the cliff edge. The Nineteen Year old squeezed past Steel. Carrying a hydraulic pump over his shoulder with effortless, wiry strength. Long blond hair flowed out from under a hardhat that had been modified with a wide brim, making it like a plastic Stetson. “Morning, Shane! Morning, Steel!” Mathew chirped
The scene begins with a boy named Krop leaving a job application place, slightly sad because he was rejected for a job again. He returns to his apartment and begins thinking about his career future. He opens the fridge but finds nothing to eat. He goes to a store to buy some food, and on his way back, he hears a girl screaming in a dark alley. He quickly enters to see and starts hearing a girl crying, and when he gets close to her, her facial features change and she tells him, "You fool," releasing a strange energy on his stomach that throws him backward. When he gets up and looks at her, he finds her flickering like a TV screen. He says, "Who are you, for heaven’s sake?" She says, "You shouldn’t see me like this, but who cares? I can simply delete myself from your memory, and in this way, we will defeat you." The hero thinks to himself, "Wait, delete myself? Memory? Delete memory?? Do you want to erase my memory of the time I saw you, but I must remember what I’ve seen now? This is dangerous. And why is she flickering like a TV? Is she not real?" He looks at the pen in his pocket and says, "I found it," pulls it out quickly, looks at her flickering body, and starts writing on his hand. He writes: "Strange flickering." She notices and says, "What!" and makes a hand snap that makes him lose consciousness for a moment and lower his head. The girl says, "I understand, he wants to write notes about me on his hand," and suddenly hears someone approaching, so she says, "Who cares? It won’t help him," and leaves, dropping an accessory with a strange symbol. Krop regains consciousness on the ground. A man comes to help him and asks, "What happened?" He replies, "I don’t know." Then he says, "Why am I here, and why do I feel pain?" He stands up and reads what is written on his hand. He is surprised and says, "This is my handwriting, but when and why?" He starts trying to understand and finds that symbol on the ground, then says, "It seems something happened here." Krop returns to his apartment. He starts eating his dinner while thinking, "What does ‘strange flickering’ mean? Does that mean I saw something strange, and why can’t I remember it?" He holds that symbol and says, "And what is this also?" "Ah, this seems strange." He gets up, goes to make his coffee, and watches TV. When he turns it on, there’s flickering on the screen. He says, "Ah, again, this flickering… Flickering!!" By the way, if I was the one who wrote it, the closest word to ‘flickering’ I remember is ‘TV flicker.’ He starts staring at the flickering, then turns off the TV and goes to sleep. The next day, he wakes up to a ringing phone. He answers: "Krop here." He says, "Yes." The caller says, "We reviewed your file that you submitted for the job here last week." He says, "Wait, who are you?" The caller replies, "I am the manager of Cardo Cafe, and you have been accepted. You need to be here before 8 AM to start work." Krop responds happily, "Finally, thank you so much! I’m coming right away." He gets up quickly, puts on his clothes, grabs a piece of bread, and rushes to the cafe. He enters and finds the waiter asking, "What do you want?" He replies, "I’m here to work." The waiter says, "Oh, you’re the new recruit? The manager told me about you. My name is Sarodem, call me Saro, and my colleague here is Mira. The manager is Grim. I hope you enjoy your time with us." Then the manager comes and says to Krop, "Come here, I’ll give you your work uniform, and you’ll start cleaning now." Krop removes his clothes, puts on the work uniform, and gives his clothes to Saro to hide. Krop starts working with them, cleaning tables and floors. Saro brings drinks and coffee, and Mira is the waitress taking orders and serving them. After a long day of work, their shift ends. Krop tells Saro to give him back his clothes. Saro goes to the storage room, picks up Krop’s clothes, and as soon as he carries them, that symbol falls. Saro examines it for a moment and says, "What is this thing? It’s strange," then returns it and gives the clothes back to Krop. Krop changes back into his clothes and returns to his apartment, only to find the door open, even though he made sure to lock it with the key he keeps under the carpet outside. He thinks he forgot to lock it. When he enters, he finds the place messy, as if someone entered. He starts searching around the apartment for anything missing and finds that nothing was stolen. He begins thinking about why a thief would come to him, even though his apartment isn’t luxurious
The neon sign above the trailer buzzed with the irritable hum of a dying insect. It read Ground support, thought the 'U' in ground was flickering out, Leaving the company to announce itself as Grond Support. It fit the aesthetic of the surrounding yard, which was a graveyard of rust excavators, Coils of orange conduit and piles of gravel that looked like forgotten burial mounds. Alex Barry stood at the Chain-link gate, the dust of three state lines coating his black cowboy boots. He was twenty-one, but the shadows under his eyes belonged to a man twice his age. He ran a hand through his short, cropped black hair, wincing as his shirt sleeve rode up. The ink on his forearm, a jagged tribal design he'd gotten in a basement parlor in New Mexico. Hidden again as he yanked the fabric down. He wasn't dealing today, He wasn't running packages. He was trying to vanish and the best place to disappear was beneath the earth. He pushed open the door to the office trailer. The air conditioning hit him like a physical blow, smelling of stale coffee and toner. “We aren’t buying whatever your selling, kid.” a voice rasped from behind a desk that looked more like a barricade of paperwork. Shane, the owner sat there like a toad on a lily pad. Squeezed into a polo shirt so tight and pristine white that it looked like it had been painted onto his soft, round torso. He didn't look up from his spreadsheet, his pen tapping a frantic rhythm. “I'm not selling,” Alex said his voice rough from days of silence. “I'm looking for work. Sign out front says you need laborers.” Shane finally looked up his eyes narrowing as they swept over Alex. He took in the dust, the nervous energy the way Alex stood with his weight on his back foot, ready to bolt. “I need laborers, Not liabilities. You got a rap sheet? You look like you got a rap sheet. I don't pay for insurance risks.” Alex clenched his jaw. “I work hard. I don't ask questions. That's my resume.” Shane waved his hand. “Get lost,” Returning to his papers. “Go peddle your drama somewhere else. This is a respectable establishment. Alex turned to leave, his hand gripping the doorknob. It was the same old story. The world saw the grim on him and assumed he was trash. He was about to step back out into the scorching heat when the light in the doorway was suddenly eclipsed. A mountain of a man blocked the exit. This was steel At forty-four, he was a wall of muscle and scar tissue, wearing biker boots that clunked heavily against the cheap linoleum. He had to duck to enter the trailer, his presence immediately sucking the oxygen out of the room. He smelled of diesel and wet earth. Steel looked down at Alex. It wasn't a glare, It was an inspection. He looked at Alex's face, then down to the dusty cowboy boots. “Nice boots,” Steel rumbled. His voice sounded like gravel tumbling inside a cement mixer. Alex didn't flinch “They walk fine.” Steel smirked, a terrifying expression that somehow reached his eyes, He looked past Alex to the man at the desk. “Hire him, Shane.” Shane sputtered, his face turning a shade of indignity pink. “Steel, look at him! Hes a stray. Probably steal the copper wire first chance he gets.” Steel steps closer to the desk. “Kid wears boots like that, he ain't running from work,” Steel said just as another figure steps inside. If steel was a mountain, Mathew was the sapling growing on the cliff edge. The Nineteen Year old squeezed past Steel. Carrying a hydraulic pump over his shoulder with effortless, wiry strength. Long blond hair flowed out from under a hardhat that had been modified with a wide brim, making it like a plastic Stetson. “Morning,Shane! Morning, Steel!” Mathew chirped, his smile bright enough to crack the cynical atmosphere and eyes as red as a lava pit. He dumped the pump on the floor and looked at Alex. “Who's the fresh meat?” “This is Alex,” Steel said deciding the matter was settled. “Hes on the shovel crew.” Shane slams his hand on his desk. “I didn't agree to this!” Steel just crosses his massive arms, not even phased by Shane's outburst. “We're down two guys on the sewer lateral downtown. Unless you want to come down into the trench and hold the shoring Shane?” Shane paled at the thought of actual labor. He grumbled, pulling a clipboard from the stack. “Fine, Minimum wage. No benefits and if you die, you're fired before the ambulance gets there. Fill this out.” Alex took the clipboard. His hands were shaking slightly, not from fear but from the sudden jarring realization that he had stopped moving. He looked at Steel, who was watching him with a knowing intensity. “Ever dig a hole, Alex?” Steel asked. “I've dug plenty,” Alex said quietly. Mostly to hide things sometimes to hide himself. “Good,” Steel clapped a hand on Alex's shoulder, the weight of it nearly buckling the young mans knees. “Because that's what we do, We fix the rot underneath the city so the people up top can pretend the ground is solid. Welcome to the Family, Kid.” Mathew tipped his hardhat. “Don't worry Alex, stick with me. I'm a prodigy. I'll teach you the art of mud.” Alex looked at the three of them- The mister, The giant and the farm boy. It was a circus, a freak show of underground construction. But he looked at the pen in his hand, Alex realized for the first time in five years he wasn't holding a weapon or a bag of product. He was holding a future.