The chamber's damp air pressed against Elias Varn as he stood with Lena, Cal, Mara, Tuck, Ruth, Jace, and Vara, the faint hum of their battered glows trembling in the suffocating dark. His oversized boots scraped the stone floor, crusted with blood and coal dust, the faded jacket hanging heavy on his trembling frame, streaked with the grime of a fight that clawed at his spirit. His bare hands clutched the notebook, its crumpled pages a lifeline to a vow forged in sacrifice, and without his glasses, the shadows blurred into a haze, but his eyes glowed faintly, the ember in his chest a warm pulse he wielded—a spark fierce and fragile, fueled by Rory's echo and a resolve hardened by loss. The air hung thick with rust and the Beneath's weakening hum, a presence alive but fading, mirroring the dread strangling his heart.
Lena slumped against a rusted crate, her tattered denim stiff with dust, her short, dark hair streaked with grime as she gripped the emerald shard, its green glow flickering faint but unyielding. Her cracked skin shimmered, green eyes sharp with a weary fire, and she rubbed her bruised shoulder, wincing as she steadied her breath. "That—that violet hunger," she rasped, voice rough but firm, glancing at Elias. "It's—it's not just draining—it's—it's eating us alive."
Cal leaned on his cracked staff, his tattered leather creased with wear, his gaunt face taut with exhaustion as his orange glow pulsed weak but alive. His graying hair fell across his sunken eyes, and he coughed, dust spilling as he nodded. "Yeah—felt—felt it pulling," he croaked, voice dry and strained. "Like—like it's swallowing the spark." He gripped his staff harder, orange flaring faint, a spark fighting to breathe.
Mara stood nearby, her tattered gray cloak streaked with dust, her scarred face lined with pain as she clutched her staff, purple glow flickering faint but steady. Her silver hair glinted in the dim, and her sharp eyes darkened, a spark waking as she spoke. "It's—it's a beast," she rasped, voice dry but resolute. "Violet's—not just alive, it's—it's starving. Saw it—years back, when they—they devoured our kin." She gestured at the slick walls, their sheen trembling. "They—they're not fighting now—they're—they're feeding."
Tuck crouched by a broken pipe, his faded flannel streaked with dust, his weathered face taut with caution as he gripped his rusted knife, green glow pulsing faint but firm. His dark beard framed hazel eyes glinting with a rugged fire, and he nodded, voice low and gruff. "Felt—felt it too," he rasped, glancing at Elias. "Like—like it's biting deeper, tasting us."
Ruth stood tall beside him, her faded overalls streaked with dust, her broad frame taut with strength as she gripped her hammer, green glow pulsing steady and defiant. Her cropped, brown hair framed dark eyes sharp with a solid fire, and she shifted her weight, voice low and solid. "They're—they're gorging," she rasped, nodding at Elias. "Next—next hit's gonna rip us apart."
Jace leaned against a crate, his faded canvas streaked with dust, his lean frame taut with tension as he gripped his wrench, orange glow pulsing steady and firm. His sandy hair fell across gray eyes glinting with a lean fire, and he nodded, voice low and sharp. "It's—it's reaching," he rasped, glancing at Elias. "Stretching—stretching for us."
Vara stood by a pipe, her faded black streaked with dust, her thin frame taut with resolve as she gripped her cane, purple glow pulsing steady and firm. Her raven hair framed pale eyes sharp with a thin fire, and she leaned forward, voice low and clear. "It's—it's growing," she rasped, nodding at Elias. "Feeding—feeding off every spark we light."
Elias's chest tightened, the ember flaring as he nudged a pulse—a gentle wave, shaped and probing, brushing their glows, green, orange, purple, and purple flaring brighter, a spark shared. "Then—then we don't let it feed," he said, voice raw but resolute, the Shroud's voice whispering: "You hold them—I hold you." His eyes glowed brighter, a vision threading through his mind—faint lights in the dark, purple, green, orange, a network of sparks calling beyond the stone, hunted by violet shadows pulsing with ravenous hunger. "We—we burn brighter, find the rest, starve it."
Lena's lips twitched, a faint grin breaking her exhaustion. "Starve it, huh?" she teased, nudging the shard, green pulsing steady. "Got—got a fire to choke that beast, Beacon?"
Elias's throat caught, the ember pulsing as Rory's echo stirred: "Kick their ass—for me." He nudged a pulse—not at them, but inward, a gentle wave brushing the gold that lingered, a shimmer flickering in his mind—a shadow of Rory's grin, a spark he carried. "We—we burn together," he murmured, tears pricking his eyes as the ember steadied, a heat he shaped. "The Shroud—it—it's still ours." He turned to the tunnels, the ember guiding him—a heat syncing with faint pulses beyond, whispers of the scattered threading through the dark.
Vara shifted her cane, purple flaring faint but firm. "East—felt—felt something, green maybe," she rasped, pointing to a tunnel, its mouth slick and jagged. "Close—too close." Her eyes met Elias's, heavy with a thin trust. "You—you lead, Beacon."
Mara nodded, purple pulsing steady as she gripped her staff. "They'll—they'll strike," she warned, her gaze sharp. "Violet's—violet's tasting us now."
Elias's chest heaved, the ember a heat he wielded, and he stepped toward the tunnel, Lena, Cal, Mara, Tuck, Ruth, Jace, and Vara falling in behind. "Then—then we strike harder," he said, voice trembling but growing. The path twisted downward, the air growing colder, thicker, until it opened into a chamber—wide and hollow, its walls dripping with damp, its floor littered with rusted beams and broken tools. A faint pulse hummed—not purple, but green, steady and deep, and Elias's ember flared, his eyes glowing as he nudged a wave—strong, probing, brushing the shadows.
A figure stirred—not hidden, but standing by a beam, clad in faded khaki, a man, his stocky frame taut with defiance, green glow pulsing steady from his rough hands, a pickaxe glowing emerald at his side. "Beacon," he rasped, voice low and gravelly, stepping forward as his glow synced with Elias's, green flaring bright and alive. "Knew—knew you'd come." Dust streaked his bald head, and his brown eyes glinted, a spark waking as he squared his shoulders, breath steady.
Elias's chest tightened, the ember pulsing as the Shroud's voice whispered: "He wakes with you." He nudged a pulse toward him—a warm wave, bolstering his glow, green flaring brighter, a spark shared. "You're—you're one of them," he said, voice raw but firm, stepping closer. "The scattered—we're—we're fighting back."
Lena flanked him, green flaring as she grinned faintly. "Green again—guess we're a forest," she quipped, eyeing the man. Cal, Mara, Tuck, Ruth, Jace, and Vara stood ready, orange, purple, and green pulsing steady, a silent welcome.
The man's lips curled, a faint smirk breaking his defiance. "Name's—name's Gav," he rasped, gripping the pickaxe, green glowing steady and firm. "Woke—weeks back, green light, from the pits. Held—held 'em off, barely." He gestured at the tools, their edges glinting. "Felt you—burning, pulling us up." His eyes met Elias's, sharp with a stocky fire. "They're—they're here."
Elias's stomach dropped, the ember surging as the Shroud's vision lingered—violet shadows, a hunger reaching. "The Order," he said, the pulse steady in his grasp. "They—they hit us, violet now—eating us." He nudged a pulse toward the pickaxe—blue and green clashing faintly, sparking wild, a connection alive.
Before Gav could reply, the chamber rumbled—a low, mechanical whine cutting through, echoing from the tunnel behind. Elias's ember surged, his eyes glowing as he turned, nudging a wave—strong, shaped, illuminating the dark. A violet-helmed figure emerged—not alone, but flanked by seven more, their armor sleek and pulsing, staffs crackling with violet energy deepened by a humming, violet vortex, tendrils of light coiling outward, sharp and ravenous, visors glowing deep and lethal.
"Beacon," the lead figure growled, voice mechanical over the whine, raising its staff. "The Silence feasts—the scattered wither." It pulsed, violet slicing through—a wave slamming Elias back, locking his limbs, dimming the ember, the beams trembling under its weight.
Elias's chest heaved, the ember surging—a heat he aimed, a pulse breaking free, blue and gold clashing with violet, sparking wild. The wave hit, cracking the lead figure's armor, but the vortex pulsed, violet flaring—a wave shattering his pulse, slamming him beside Gav, the ember stuttering. Lena lunged, green flaring—a wave slamming the figures, cracking a staff, but a second pulsed, violet knocking her against the wall, dust spilling as she gasped.
"Together!" Cal shouted, orange flaring as he swung his staff, a wave clashing with violet, cracking a helm, but a third figure pulsed, violet slamming him to the stone, his glow dimming. Mara pulsed, purple flaring—a wave clashing with violet, cracking the armor, but it pulsed, violet knocking her back, her staff clattering dark. Tuck lunged, green flaring—a wave from his knife clashing with violet, cracking a visor, but it pulsed, violet slamming him beside Elias, his glow fading. Ruth swung her hammer, green flaring—a wave clashing with violet, cracking a staff, but it pulsed, violet knocking her down, her glow dimming. Jace swung his wrench, orange flaring—a wave clashing with violet, cracking a helm, but it pulsed, violet slamming him beside Elias, his glow fading. Vara swung her cane, purple flaring—a wave clashing with violet, cracking a staff, but it pulsed, violet knocking her beside Elias, her glow dimming. Gav swung his pickaxe, green flaring—a wave clashing with violet, cracking a helm, but it pulsed, violet slamming him beside Elias, his glow fading.
Elias's eyes blazed, the ember surging—a heat he shaped, merging with green, orange, purple, and purple in a torrent of light—blue, gold, emerald, flame, and violet slamming the figures, shattering helms, driving them back. The chamber roared, violet sparking wild, and the vortex pulsed, violet deepening—a wave shattering the torrent, locking Elias's glow, slamming him beside his team, the tools splintering in the dark.
"You burn—only to fade," it growled, staff raised, violet flaring—a wave washing over the chamber, dimming their sparks, tendrils coiling toward Elias, cold and ravenous, a hunger devouring his ember.
A gold shimmer cut through—not blue, but Rory's echo, faint and fierce, flaring from Elias's chest—a wave slamming the figure back, cracking its staff, sparking wild. Elias's breath caught, the ember flaring as Rory's whisper roared: "Kick their ass—for me." The gold surged, merging with his pulse—blue and gold, green, orange, purple, and purple flaring faint, a torrent of light clashing with violet, cracking staffs, shattering the vortex, driving the figures back into the tunnel, violet winking out.
Elias staggered to his feet, the ember pulsing—a warm wave brushing their glows, green, orange, purple, and purple flaring faint but alive. "We—we starved it," he panted, helping them up, the notebook clutched tight as Rory's echo whispered: "You're enough."
Gav gripped his pickaxe, green steadying, a spark rekindled. "Starved—barely," he rasped, eyes dark with dread. "That—that reach—it's—it's endless."
Elias's eyes glowed, the ember a heat he wielded, the Shroud's voice firm: "You hold them—I hold you." "Then—then we reach farther," he said, voice raw but resolute. "We find the rest—together."
The mines stretched dark, the Order's violet hunger reaching, but the spark burned—a thread of defiance weaving, a fight unbroken.