Beneath the Ground.

The guards began distributing ragged clothes to the prisoners. They were old, dirty, and barely holding together.

Some even had bloodstains on them, probably from a prisoner who had died while working to death. 

Alongside the clothes, each prisoner received a rusty pickaxe, chipped and worn from years of use.

The tools looked barely fit for the workload. 

"Listen well!" the guard said firmly. "You must search for a glowing black gem in this mine. If you succeed, you may have a chance to rest and eat. But if you fail, you will be punished."

The new prisoners exchanged anxious glances.

Rest and food were basic human needs, yet here they were, treated worse than animals.

Even pigs had better lives—eating without labor, only meeting their end when necessary. 

Reign, now dressed in the ragged clothes and holding a pickaxe, looked around.