Deep inside Great Barrier Ridge, in an underground city of Starforge, a red dwarf star slowly revolved in the middle of enormous man-made cave, painting the city buildings in crimson shade. In a couple of hours its light will be extinguished entirely, announcing the arrival of nighttime.

  Dark alleys, too distant from the only light source, were in constant darkness, only rarely diluted with dim street lights. In a damp street stood a man in baggy dark gray robe, casually leaning on a nearby building. He was motionless, his hands invisible inside his wide pockets. The robe was neatly layered and held by a number of belts, an outline of a holster for a weapon or an artifact slightly visible under the fabric.

  Then, heavy steps interrupted the silence. The owner of those steps removed his cape, revealing dirty disheveled hair and spoke first. His clothing was simple, but sturdy, clearly suitable for physical work. A cape was the only item protecting him from chilling currents of underground air.

  "Hey..." the man greeted with hoarse voice.

  "Wassup," answered dealer, removing his cape.

  They looked at each other. The bald head of the dealer was clearly visible in darkness.

  "You again?" asked the dealer.

  "Yeah... Two packs of the same stuff," his weak and raspy voice unnerved the dealer.

  Dealer hesitated for a moment before asking, "Did you... Try to give up injections?"

  "Why? I'm too far gone now."

  "There are other ways..."

  "TOO LATE TO STOP..." the fist suddenly landed on his cheek, almost tipping a man over from his unsteady stature.

  "Sorry, didn't mean to hit you, but it was the best way to stop you from garnering everyone's attention."

  "My bad..." said a client before spitting some blood.

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  "You know, in Conflux doctors might help you."

  "Ha! They? Those magic obsessed republican bastards? No way..." his agitation died down and a man sat on the ground, his back to the brick wall.

  "Why you think so?"

  "Fake hearts," gentle tap to the chest sounded vaguely metallic.

  "What happened?" the dealer sat on the ground beside.

  "Incident in mineshafts. Almost got crushed by the machine."

  "The suit?"

  "Yeah, a heavy duty one. Crumpled like a foil under the cave in. Those maniacs in the ward brought me from the dead a couple of times. I was in debt to the company, so they wouldn't let me die before it is repaid."

  "So these are..." the dealer pulled a vial from his robe and began inspecting the contents. Inside was shimmering blue and purple liquid, that gave off pale light.

  "Yes, to keep me alive. No other way of getting mana for a Null."

  "Shouldn't they, like, provide you with mana injections?"

  "They do, but just so that my body would barely survive. Organs won't fail, but the constant ache and burn drive me crazy. And on top of that, the price of a heart and injections also went into my debt."

  They both sat in silence, contemplating the exchange. After a long minute, dealer spoke again, "Breezborne might take you in."

  "For what reason?"

  "They always need new sailors."

  "How'd you know?"

  "Been there," the dealer was definitely onto something.

  "But still, I can't use magic."

  "You already have a Mana Pool, even if it's a fake one. Time to get an upgrade, in my opinion. One more piece and you are one of the Terran mages."

  "No more metal inside me, thanks."

  "Why not?"

  They looked at each other with suspicion.

  "Can I get my stuff?" asked the miner.

  "Answer me, and you'll get it."

  "... No tricks?"

  "No tricks."

  After a couple seconds of thinking over and reminiscing, the client began his story, "When I began working there, those who were sensitive to mana got better salary. But there was a guy who got a fake heart a couple of years ago to become a mage. He worked fine for a while but... A leak in a capillary channel... We never managed to scrape him off from the walls completely," the memory made his shudder. "I walk by that place every day..."

  "Was his piece like yours?"

  "Like two drops..."

  "Also a Null?"

  A man nodded.

  "Shit..." the deafening silence lasted one more minute. Both of them got things to think about.

  "Take that. Like promised," the dealer gave two vials to a client. "Don't overdo yourself. Some got an addiction from injections."

  "Never intended," the miner took his injections and got up, but remembered something. "Oh, right. What's the price?"

  "A promise."

  "Hmm?"

  "Find me, if you reconsider getting an implant. I know the best doc in The Hive," he said with hope.

  "Might. If I won't be reduced to a puddle by then, that is..." the client went back where he came from, leaving the dealer alone in the same dark alley, that never seen a shine of a star.