The riot taking place in Bale had entered its third day beginning from the northernmost region of District B, where guards went to investigate the deaths of their comrades. Their efforts to question them brought resistance, leading to more aggression from the workers. They did not want to give descriptions of the people who had given them such a treat with the turning over of their humvee from the firing of bullets.

For them to have one of their vehicles go after smugglers in the trailer park happened on occasion. But for such an episode to play out in front of them was quite rare—and even rarer for the people they hated to die in a crash whether in or out of the trailer park. Their demise was very much cherished; some had seen the ones who ran away as heroes even if they had no reason to save anyone but themselves. A particular guard who wanted to impose his strength due to his great size, shoved one of the workers, leading to an ensemble of verbal and physical brutality.

Jo, the true but unintentional perpetrator of the riot, was grateful for the trash that obstructed their enemies and the narrow section of road that allowed them to leave and return with the water they wanted. Despite this knowledge, many were championing both he and Celia for their bravery.

When they tasted their hard-fought water, they noted how it was far from being pipeborne. Even so, to have drinkable water that wasn't from the factory was incredible in eventually achieving their aspirations of food, water, and electricity.

With clean water at home and the power they borrowed through an extension cord from Mr. Tim's house, they had more or less ticked off two of the three they were committed to solving. And in their praise for what they have gotten and being alive to experience them, Celia forgot to give thanks to Jaholven for allowing them to persevere through it all.

"How could I not speak your name in times like this, God? Should I pray to you right now?"

Jo would stare at her whenever she did this thing called praying. She would bend her knees on the floor to give thanks and forgiveness to the Lord like an addiction. It was strange and somewhat stimulating to see her communicate with a person they could not see.

If it was true their god was great and merciful, then why he didn't answer his plea to end the torment of the people deemed his children? When he noticed he was still bound to a life of mistreatment by a country and a company that saw them as animals, his supposed faith dissipated.

"Jo, do you want to pray with me?" It was not uncommon for her to make this request. However, Jo always refused. He was one to have faith in man and not an invisible creator in the clouds.

Jo did find it strange that she became interested in religion when her sentiments towards it were negative until recently. Therefore, what could have caused her to believe in a god? This and other questions could not produce a good response.

Because of this, he gave up and went back to keeping watch in the event someone tried something against their trailer. What actually protected them was the spread of the fact that people who looked like them caused the accident that killed the guards inside the overturned humvee.

When said details arrived to where they lived in District A, their neighbours concluded it had to be them. Their features were unmistakable to the rioters, and they decided to not disturb them as gratitude for inciting years of built-up disgust most wouldn't enact.

Listening to her talk to this imaginary person did stifle the hunger in their bellies. The madness outside prevented them from eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the spacious cafeteria with tons of comfy seats and air conditioning when it wasn't malfunctioning. Otherwise, he would rather not eat in there to avoid the cumulative body heat of hundreds packed inside in addition to the heat generated by food preparation.

Even when it wasn't a sweatfest, to find a good place to sit was hard unless you were let off a bit early to eat. If not, the cafeteria would fill up quick, leaving no space for those yet to enter. But to get that food required hours of backbreaking labour he didn't miss.

This was when he internalised this had been the longest he had not been in the factory outside of holidays. The time spent operating a forklift in a place that dehumanised him would burden his body and brought mental hurt he would rather forget. He realised that Celia matched his thoughts by praising God for relieving them from the horrors of the factory.

She had triggered a sense of comfort in Jo. Her espousing of thanks for this freedom nudged him to eventually break her out of her prayer to say this: "Can I join you, Celia?"

Celia was ecstatic to have him be a part of prayer. He followed her in bending his knees, putting his hands together below his chin and closing his eyes to copy her words.

God, I must thank you for having Jo join me. I know you convinced him somehow to give praise to you in your name. And for that, I am grateful.

Jo saw it a bit comical he referred to himself in the third person. For him, it was as if he was worshipping himself. He was quick to explain this as the reason why he laughed when asked, making her chuckle.

"Okay, clown," She bumped her shoulder into him as a tease. As his friend, there was truly a lot to like about him, including his attempts at comedy. No matter what the lovey-dovey part of her would say in her head, they were ideal the way they were. For her, it was unnecessary to improve upon perfection. "Let's get back to praying."

When she closed her eyes, Jo took a moment to relish all of her. With his head raised, he blushed at someone he believed was so beautiful that even the helicopter in the background could not eradicate this trance.

"Celia, can you hear me?"

"Of course I can. What do you want?"

Jo told her she didn't have to open her eyes as he wondered if they could start over since she left him behind.

Desperate to return to worship, she had no issue doing so with annoyance buried in her speech. After facilitating his request, the thought of a sublime prayer had her eager to speak it. Jo was ready to join with a smile while her eyes were still closed.

God, I must give great thanks for giving us life and good health in this world. The reason we can still stand while hungry, have fresh water in our home, the fact we have been spared from all that has been happening outside and much more is all because of you, dear God. Without you, none of this would be possible, so we must thank you for giving us a sense of peace in this world. In God's name we pray, Aimen.

Jo stood feeling great. He felt a warmness in his heart that couldn't go away. Even with this feeling inside, he remained faithful to not believe in him. He did not pray for their own magical salvation, his real intent was targeted towards Celia's wellbeing.

During their time of devotion, a shirtless man with a molotov cocktail threw it at their trailer. This got him beaten up by some of those nearby who decided to spare their home of violence. There was not much they could do since water hydrants or other means of stifling fires didn't exist in Bale. They were forced to use one of the emergency pay phones to call the company fire service to save them.

Sadly, all services in and out of the trailer park were cancelled, so they chose someone amongst them with a stone to break the window. The person was weak, so he gave himself a decent run up to strike it. His follow-through after throwing caused him to bump into someone so fit and focused, they were unfazed by the collision.

"Do you hear that?" Celia perked up to determine where it came from.

"Like what?" Jo didn't hear anything, yet his nostrils got a whiff of smoke. This had him ignore the stone hurled their way that was now on the floor near bits of glass.

He took the risk of opening the shattered front window and its remnants possibly cutting his soles to see part of their trailer on fire.

"We need to get out of here, Celia!"

There was a rejection from her to learn or react to the danger that came. It was to hold onto the promising dream of hers as one without another major snag.

"Just come quick! We don't have much time!" Jo got her to witness what he saw with his intensity. In doing so, there was bitterness that their efforts became a waste. They rushed out with his gun and box of bullets, which were hidden within a section of the wall that could be peeled back. Doing this meant they consigned their home and hard work to the flames.

Draped in despair over their loss, they kept moving, seeing that Mr. Tim's trailer was being ransacked by hooligans. Whether he was alive or dead was left to their imagination as they left their street to find somewhere safe to wait out the mayhem.

And as they seeked a new place, there was a guard near their house thankful to not be dead. His helmet might have been knocked off by a worker tackling him to the ground and a bruised arm from defending against blunt weapons, but he was okay.

"I must thank the ancestors for protecting me."

A thin guard like him with a receding hairline being fine compared to the many dead or gravely injured had him profess their misfortune to Andressa. She was a woman from the ancient era of Iridale who became a demi-god by sacrificing herself to save their homeland.

He was one of the few who went to one of her marble shrines and gave an offering every day while the others drank and ate theirs. The guard was a devout believer and anticipated a miracle like the flood that washed away the invading army after her death thousands of years ago.

This was an example of whenever they needed her miracles, such miracles came. For him, he knew whether through stormy annihilation or the sickness and death of an enemy leader, each was timely and plentiful.

"Thank you a thousand-fold, our great Andressa. Your sacrifice will never be in vain throughout the ages."

The people of Iridale always believed their pantheon of gods and demi-gods were the most deserving of worship of all the world's religions. To him and many others, it was spiritual warfare between them and Jaholven—and it was one they would win.