While hiding in the shadows, Coffee and I quietly assessed our situation as calmly as possible. In short, we seemed to be in the middle of a mimic-run mining operation.

Our 'exit' led to a large, cylindrical opening in the dungeon about the size of a football stadium. Four great stalagmites rose from the ground and lit the area ablaze with bright chunks of embedded mana crystals that radiated blue and green.

In the center of the stadium was a makeshift elevator consisting of a wooden base, and ropes that connected each corner of the base to the ceiling. In the middle of these anchor points was a hole that presumably led to another part of the mine. The elevator seemed to be driven by a spell; each rope rapidly coiled around a spool beneath the base of the contraption as it was raised into the air. It went without saying that the rope uncoiled during the descent.

Along the walls of this area were tunnels that looked just like ours, except that most of them were populated by worker mimics. One of them would enter a tunnel, make clinking noises for several minutes, and wheel themselves out to dump a chestload of some sort of mineral into a collection bin. Once these were full, another mimic would then transport these bins to the central elevator, which would be moved up, emptied, and returned for further use.

Over 50 mimics were working busily here, and a few of them were in humanoid form. However, the form that seemed to be the most convenient for them was the one Coffee and I had seen earlier. Yeah, that one. With those hairy leg-wheels.

The working conditions didn't seem to great, to be honest. The air was musky, the lighting inside each tunnel was shabby at best (at least that's the impression we got with our limited vision), the mimics' legs appeared to be battered and bruised, and every worker looked utterly exhausted. If they weren't so terrifying, I would probably pity them.

I guessed that the tunnel Coffee and I were in was no longer in use. Not only was it ignored by the busy mimics, but there was also a sign in front us that was painted with a big red X. Either they had found nothing in the tunnel, it was all mined out, or some asshole let loose a pungent one that forced everyone to steer clear of the area and it was never touched since. Like the rancid fragrance that I was smelling now.

'Coffee...' I cringed. The smell was really, really bad.

'It wasn't me,' she insisted, pinching her nose.

'You sure? I don't know what kind of berries you ate; you don't have to be ashamed. I just want us to be honest.'

'That's fantastic, because honesty is one of my best traits. I honestly think that mimics would love the taste of slimes. And those workers look mighty hungry.'

'Ermm...'

'Anyway, that stink is getting stronger. Whatever's causing it is probably getting closer. Let's retreat for now and figure out how to get out of this dump.'

'Aight.'

We backtracked about a hundred meters and slipped into one of the many cracks in the wall. Inside was a closet-sized enclosure that may have once held a cluster of whatever the mimics were mining. I offered the plan I had been working on.

'So I was thinking. Chaos mana can distort their mana and sensory perceptions, right? What about creating a Chaos Field around ourselves, using the commotion go sneak into one of those collection bins, and hiding our presence again?'

'Too many things could go wrong,' Coffee replied. 'Your Chaos Field is too weak, and my curse won't allow me to cast an Advanced Class version of the spell. It'll be too easy to catch us with their own counter field. But maybe if we created a large enough distraction...'

She seemed to be deep in thought, and fell silent. Meanwhile, I simulated escape scenarios in my head. I was sure that if we were noticed, it would be over in an instant. If our previous encounter with a mimic was anything to go by, we were, by far, outmatched in terms of skill and power. I couldn't help but think that my line of thinking was wrong, though. Not all mimics would be the same, just like how not all slimes were the same.

That said, even if I had the capacity to fight evenly with them, what would give me the right to hurt them? I distinctly remembered reading that the mimics had their own kingdom, meaning that they were sentient beings with a social structure, and perhaps even their own families. Since we were transported to a mimic-run mine, wouldn't we be the intruders, despite being forced into this situation?

In that case, maybe sneaking out wasn't the answer. Could we reveal ourselves and talk our way out?

...

I remembered the treatment my parents gave Coffee just for being a vampire, and rejected this option. It might be possible in a civilized and ideal world, but in this one, the consequences of being naive and overly trusting could be fatal. This was something that even existed in my old world. Even developed nations such as Canada or the United States had their fair share of racism and prejudice, and one's color or sex could be the line between getting shot or being offered help.

Moreover, the situation was much too coincidental. Two young children, suddenly appearing in a mine where only mimics resided. One being a slime and one a vampire: two races that were in conflict. Even I wouldn't believe this story, if I was in their position.

Coffee and I were definitely between a rock and a hard place. Our objective right now was to escape this place and figure out where we were. Every conceivable plan seemed to have holes riddled in it, and we couldn't even talk our way out if it failed.

That brought on the worry that conversation itself would be difficult because of language, but then I remembered that I had understood the mimic perfectly back at the village.

'Coffee, do mimics and slimes speak the same language?' I asked.

'Mhm. Apparently, you both evolved from a common ancestor that originally created it. It makes sense to me; you're both shapeshifting species,' she answered without evening looking at me. I could feel the gears in her head whirring like crazy, and decided to let her think without any more of my distractions.

The information she gave me was interesting, and it consolidated my previous conclusions about mimics being a sentient race. Maybe it was foolish to think about it in our current situation, but I wasn't a monster who would take lives without a single thought. Even if it was in self-defence, the thought of killing someone mortified me.

Ratatatarataratatatata.

My train of thought was interrupted by the sound of several rolling mimics, who had most likely entered our tunnel.

'What's going on? I thought this tunnel was abandoned,' I whispered.

'I don't know. Keep hiding your presence and stay absolutely quiet. They don't have anything to track our taste, so we should be undetectable,' Coffee instructed.

'Okay,' I said, but my body was tensed up and ready to run at a moment's notice. If worse came to worst, I could fire an air bullet towards them and run down the tunnel to distract them while Coffee made her escape. She was only here because I was, after all, and she'd have a better chance to make it out alive.

The rolling noise had stopped, but footsteps and some sort of light source were now approaching us. I tightened my pseudopods.

"...how are your kids? Haven't seen them in forever," a young male's voice could be heard from nearby.

"Neither have I,” replied another voice, probably from an older male. “But tha’s the norm these days. Am I right, Claire?”

“…That’s no excuse. I want to see my daughter, Frank. Honestly, what’s our blasted government doing?” A female spoke up this time. “Are we supposed to choose between feeding our families and being able to see them?”

“I know how ya feel,” Frank said. “One of the other workers snuck in a newspaper the other day. He showed me an article and it got me thinking, ya know? They says it’s going to get better, and, I’m not sayin’ I’m the best at math or whatnot, but… the numbers jus’ don’t add up.”

“What numbers are you going on about?” The young man asked.

“Yenno, those numbers. Food production and mouths to feed and shi’ like that.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“I’ve read that article, and Frank’s right,” affirmed Claire. “They want us to believe that with careful ration distribution and better production management, the problem’s going to disappear in the next two years. I don’t buy any of this bullshit.”

“Yah, some people are talkin’ that the government is secretly planning some sort of war, but tha’ plan backfired and they’re in some serious shi’ right now,” Frank added.

“Fucking hell,” the young man sighed. “I’m working twenty hours a day so that I can earn enough ration cards for myself and my ma’. And they’re planning a bloody war?! Who’s going to pay for that? We are! Our wages are going to be cut again, and—”

“Shhhhh. Tony, are you out of your mind?” Claire shot at him.

“…” He didn’t respond.

“I get where yer coming from, man. Claire, I don’t think ya need to worry. No one’s aroun’ and we’re on break for the next fifteen,” Frank assured her. “Besides, everyone is thinkin’ the same thing.”

“You’re right, but…” She began.

“No, it was my bad. We don’t want to attract any unwanted attention,” Tony said. “I’m just so frustrated.”

“As are we,” Frank said. “The government’s not gonn’ help us. I think tha’s not somethin’ we gotta talk about. It’s clear tha’ we’re all on our own.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the other two.

“So, shall we review our plan to collapse this mine?” Frank whispered.

Coffee and I were flabbergasted by what we heard next.

In about one hour, these three were going to activate magical explosive devices planted deep within mine and cause the simultaneous destruction of the major tunnels, sealing their coworkers inside while making it appear like an accident. Then, they themselves would exit through a hidden passageway they had excavated for their own escape in a neighbouring tunnel. Over the past week, they had been complaining about wall integrity to their superiors, who had waved it off as superstition. This would allow them to pin the blame on the superiors for their lack of oversight, and be well compensated through employment and accident insurance.

Eventually, they left the way they arrived, and we were alone again. Coffee lit a small flame, granting us much appreciated light and warmth.

‘What are we going to do?’ I asked her.

‘That was good information. We should confirm that the hidden passage is where they claimed it was, and we can use it to escape during the commotion. We can even use Chaos Field to improve our chances, like you proposed,’ she answered.

‘I meant… about the bombing. We are going to do something about it, right?’

‘Are you fucking serious?’ She looked at me incredulously. ‘Don’t you want to get back to your parents in one piece?’

‘I understand what you’re trying to say, but are you really going to let innocent people die?’

‘I can’t believe you. These are mimics. Get that through your thick… slime skull. Did you forget that these monsters tried to kill us, and may have even caused that incident back at your village?’

‘Coffee. I need you to listen to me,’ I tried to sound as serious as I could. ‘Those monsters aren’t the same people who are going to die today, if we don’t help them.’

‘No, I need you to listen to me. We’re only specks of mana in the world. You heard them. We’re all on our own. This isn’t the time for heroics, but the time to think of saving your own ass. And mine.’

‘Is that the world you want to live in?’

‘Do you think that it’s a fucking choice?’

‘Yes,’ I looked her directly in the eye. ‘It is a choice. If you don’t think it is, you’re deluding yourself. If that’s how I thought, I would have left you to die to that mimic. Or I would’ve let you run off on your own instead of chasing after you.’

‘You idio—’

‘I know there’s a part of you that agrees with me. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have tried to help me out back then.’

‘…’ She stared at me blankly.

‘Am I wrong?’ I shifted my tone to a lighter one. ‘We can do the right thing.’

...

Coffee spent a minute making a bunch of different faces. First angry, then confused, then frustrated, then settled on resignation.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

‘…Big words for someone so useless,’ Coffee muttered. ‘Do you have a plan?’

‘Not yet,’ I admitted.

‘If you can’t think of anything in the next twenty minutes, we’re sticking with my plan and escaping on our own during the fiasco. Got it?’ She pouted and crossed her arms.

‘Fine,’ I reluctantly agreed, but started working on a strategy.

There were a lot of variables to consider, with our own safety at the top of the priority list. Unfortunately, we had no idea where the bombs were, and no evidence other than our testimony to prove that the bombs were a real threat. Discussing the results of our eavesdropping with the other mimics seemed like a sure-fire way to get ourselves captured, or worse, without saving anyone.

‘…bad,’ Coffee said something inaudible.

‘Sorry, did you say something?’ I asked, a little annoyed that she’d distract me after giving me an ultimatum.

‘Nope, keep trying, you idealist,’ she replied, looking away. I was ticked off, but refocused on the task at hand. There had to be a way to convince the other mimics that they were in danger, while ensuring our safe escape. There just had to be…

From the corner of my eye, I could sense Coffee doing something with her finger, but I closed my eyes and focused. It was hard enough thinking without her bothering me.

Skritch skritch.

*Twitch*. What the hell was she doing?

Skritch skritch skritch.

I opened my bloodshot eyes to complain.

‘What are you do—’ I began, but paused. She had scratched something into the wall. It looked like…

I turned to her, eyes wide and confused.

‘Why?’

‘I don’t particularly hate people like you,’ she replied simply, and leaned against the wall behind her. I studied the image she drew a little longer.

A smile grew on my face as the plan consolidated in my mind.

'This will work.'