[Chapter 1 Part I]
Asteros was one lively, yet lonely planet in this vast macrocosm.
Many of the nations have achieved the zenith of wealth and prosperity although the allocation of such richness is inadequate at best.
Gated communities are within a short ride from slums and tent cities around.
One such city has faced suppression for years.
There are natives and refugees from not just this planet, but through other dimensions living in this place.
It’s been known throughout the land as the Borough of the Exiled.
[Chapter 2 Part II]
This city barely had domiciles of brick, mortar, or even stone.
The Borough of the Exiled was the only kind of haven around for those in and out of the community.
No asylums could be found lest these refugees and the destitute face the consequences regardless if they had control of their life situations.
Not only that, but these residents and nomads alike became targets.
The elite and their sympathizers derogated them to no end.
How could they ever rise above their afflicted statuses?
[Chapter 3 Part III]
Some who inhabit this tent city decided to stand up for themselves and their community at large.
The bondage became too great for some to stay down.
The taste of boots certainly wouldn’t satisfy.
After all, the dustbin of history preyed upon those who jumped from buildings with their unblinking eyes.
No oppressor would chain them long enough no matter how much blood was shed.
The incarceration, annexing, and even executions could only go so far.
In some fictional universe, a dragoness mage shook her head like in a certain fantasy book on one of the myriad of earths.
[Chapter 4 Part IV]
The feelings from said fictional character certainly translated to Asteros.
The will to defend and to fight back would be bestowed upon the souls in this impoverished landscape.
This tyrannical parasitic nature permeated, but these hosts wanted an expulsion.
Fear tied many a soul down as they were outspent, outgunned, and overpowered.
The advantage went to the aggressors more often than not as the taste of privilege became an opioid to those who ran the world.
Was this really a way to dull a subtle pain to those high above the mucky slums?
Three souls might have argued that.
[Chapter 5 Part V]
There was a trio from the Borough of the Exiled who dared to return their affliction in kind while also wanting their community to be safe.
The three of them became the vanguard when it came to the pressing issue in their town.
A fortress was something they lacked, but their hearts and willpower could equate to the toughest barriers made from stone, magic, or titanium.
Sure, they were unlikely souls to defend an entire population of refugees and the downtrodden, but they had their wake up calls.
The clarion beckoning to defend rang to those in the lowest castes of Asteros’s society.
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