"Your Drill is the one that will pierce the Heavens" -Kamina


My home town of… well we call it The Cell.  The Cell protects us from dangerous things: Giant moles, diseases, and areas devoid of life.  The Cell is under the earth.  Every once in a while, an earthquake will destroy the top layer of The Cell and we’ll be forced even deeper.  The Cell is life.  Sure, some of us die here, but nothing outside of this city lived, lives, or will live.  Like a cell, each member living within it contributes to its survival.  Each of the factions helps our city to thrive:  The farmers take care of the food, the finders look for water, the diggers expand, and the Nucleus controls ad monitors us.  We Survive.

I’m a digger. My parents were and I am now.  The Nucleus promises to take care me because I dig for them.  Our village has to expand somehow, and I have to find a way to eat.  There are rules to being a digger; each faction has a set of rules, but ours are the strictest.  Number one: Your drill can only point down, Number two: You can only dig downwards, Number three:  If you find anything, report it immediately, bring back your equipment or else you will be found and you will be punished.  Why do they care what I find in the dirt?  If they don’t want us to find anything, then why do they want us to dig?  Why do I dig?  I haven’t figured that out yet.


Photo credits