Nostramo was a cursed Planet.
There was no dawn here, no dusk, no warm starlight piercing the clouds.
There was only eternal darkness, heavy and viscous, almost tangible, wrapping every inch of this world.
The sky was forever covered in polluted clouds, a toxic veil of chemicals, metal dust, and industrial exhaust that blocked the star's light and created a permanent eclipse.
The Planet's Elite lived at its highest elevations, where artificial daylight systems had been imported from other worlds.
Vast arrays of floodlights cast artificial sunlight over their estates and villas, creating patches of counterfeit day.
Within these fenced-off pools of light, the Elite held endless banquets, sipping fine wines and savoring genetically modified delicacies.
They discussed art, philosophy, stocks, and mineral futures, but never the darkness beneath their feet.
Because within that darkness lay Nostramo's other world.
That was the domain of the foundry workers, where the Planet's true heartbeat lay.
Hundreds of millions of workers lived in perpetual darkness, with only dim industrial lighting to guide their way.
They breathed air laden with metal particles, drank water contaminated by chemicals, and dug through mines several kilometers deep for Nostramo's only wealth: naturally occurring adamantium.
This rare metal was a hundred times more valuable than gold. It was adamantium that had brought Nostramo incredible wealth, but none of that wealth ever reached those who mined it.
All the workers received was synthetic food barely sufficient to keep them alive, steadily deteriorating health, and death that could strike at any moment.
Mining accidents happened every day, and toxic gas leaks were commonplace. The Elite's only response was to adjust the insurance payout formulas, making compensation ever smaller and eligibility requirements ever harsher.
Murder, extortion, and theft were not crimes here, but ways to survive.
The law?
It was merely