“Where are we going?” The guard asked in a modulated tone while he and Jean walked along dark tunnels only occasionally broken by streams of light.

  “We found something down here that tells a much different story than the one you told me,” Jean replied, counting his steps.

  The tunnels at this end of the complex were long and mostly dark. Any lights that once serviced these tunnels were long forgotten and well into disrepair. It was dangerous to walk here without light, but he’d traversed this path countless times and was confident he wouldn’t break an ankle on the pitted stone floor.

  “Stories are much like the truth, only accurate so long as they’re convenient.” The modulator clicked, “If your story deviates too far from what I’ve been taught, how am I to believe it’s true? I know how you feel about my people and how they brought you to this place.”

  Jean turned to the guard and raised a questioning eyebrow. “How should we feel about being stolen from our homes and enslaved?”

  “You should feel honored. The Stygibora have welcomed you and your kind into the fold, blessing your people in darkness and giving you a chance to become clean.”

  “I… I can’t say anything more about this until you see what I’m about to show you.” Jean stumbled, wanting the creature to see the truth with his own eyes. “Luckily, you don’t need to wait long.”

  Jean stepped to the tunnel wall and pushed on the secret passage. The prisoner still knew showing this place to the enemy was dangerous, but it was the only way to convince the guard of the truth. A single strip of light fell into the hidden hallway and landed directly across the carving of a Scaladorian likeness.

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  The guard pushed past him, eyes wide and mandibles clacking in confusion. He lifted a three fingered appendage and traced the lines of the long dead slave. He studied the story, reading a text that no human in the complex could possibly have forged. Eventually, he stepped back and turned to Jean.

  “Have you read this?” The modulator clicked.

  “No. We don’t have any cyphers to our language down here.”

  “There is no reprieve, only death dwells in this place. I do not know if you can read this. Probably not, but it will satisfy my heart to simply record the journey of my people. We once occupied a world lush with plant-life and *click* but like any species, we fought amongst ourselves. After one particularly bloody war, these creatures descended with claims that our war had shaken our planet to its core. According to them, if we did not accept their help, we would all die.”

  The guard stepped to the side, continuing his story on the next panel of stone. “They took two-thirds of the *click* and brought us to the far reaches of their empire with claims of benevolence. But, once we arrived, we learned the truth. In the middle of the night, they would send any member of the *click* who did not agree with their teachings or policies here, and we would never hear from them again. This allowed the Stygibora to continue mining for ore that allowed them to traverse the stars while also restricting the population so only the obedient could produce offspring. It was a long, bloody journey. And it was one that we ultimately lost. As I carve these words into the stone, I do it knowing that they have reduced us to less than one hundred souls. I have no way of knowing if my people are rebelling outside. I truly hope so. There is too much at stake. If they haven’t broken the cycle, it is up to you to free our people. We of the resistance dug this corridor, hoping to store enough supplies to outfit an army. It doesn’t matter if the army is of the Scalador, only that one does one day rise. If you break the cycle, if you succeed in escaping this place, remember us. Be vigilant. Rebell. Never relinquish your autonomy. Those that claim benevolence are often *click* in sheep’s clothing.”

  The guard stopped speaking, staring at the wall with unreadable eyes. Jean knew the creature was facing a truth he’d never expected. Just like the humans, the Scalador were slaves to the Stygibora. Well treated slaves, but slaves all the same.