The chamber's slick walls shimmered faintly as Elias Varn stood with Lena, Cal, Mara, Tuck, Ruth, Jace, Vara, and Gav, the fragile hum of their battered glows trembling against the oppressive 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 gnawed 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 desperation. The air hung thick with rust and the Beneath's fading hum, a presence alive but weakening, mirroring the dread strangling his soul.
Lena slumped against a rusted beam, 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 arm, wincing as she steadied her breath. "That—that violet reach," she rasped, voice rough but firm, glancing at Elias. "It's—it's not just eating—it's—it's swallowing us whole."
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 chewing," he croaked, voice dry and strained. "Like—like it's digesting us." 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 maw," she rasped, voice dry but resolute. "Violet's—not just hunger, it's—it's endless. Saw it—years back, when they—they consumed everything." She gestured at the dripping walls, their sheen trembling. "They—they're not chasing now—they're—they're engulfing."
Tuck crouched by a broken tool, 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 swallowing the air, the fight."
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 burying us," she rasped, nodding at Elias. "Next—next hit's gonna crush the spark."
Jace leaned against a beam, 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 stretching," he rasped, glancing at Elias. "Reaching—reaching past 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 endless," she rasped, nodding at Elias. "Feeding—feeding off every pulse we make."
Gav stood by a crate, his faded khaki streaked with dust, his stocky frame taut with defiance as he gripped his pickaxe, green glow pulsing steady and firm. His bald head glinted in the dim, and his brown eyes sharpened, a spark waking as he spoke. "It's—it's a void," he rasped, voice gravelly and firm. "Sucking—sucking us dry."
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 green flaring brighter, a spark shared. "Then—then we don't let it swallow," 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 an endless maw. "We—we burn hotter, find the rest, outlast it."
Lena's lips twitched, a faint grin breaking her exhaustion. "Outlast, huh?" she teased, nudging the shard, green pulsing steady. "Got—got a blaze to outshine that void, 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 ours to hold." He turned to the tunnels, the ember guiding him—a heat syncing with faint pulses beyond, whispers of the scattered threading through the dark.
Gav shifted his pickaxe, green flaring faint but firm. "North—felt—felt something, orange maybe," he rasped, pointing to a tunnel, its mouth slick and jagged. "Close—damn close." His eyes met Elias's, heavy with a stocky 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 consuming now."
Elias's chest heaved, the ember a heat he wielded, and he stepped toward the tunnel, Lena, Cal, Mara, Tuck, Ruth, Jace, Vara, and Gav falling in behind. "Then—then we consume it back," he said, voice trembling but growing. The path twisted upward, the air growing colder, denser, until it opened into a chamber—wide and hollow, its walls slick with damp, its floor littered with rusted chains and broken crates. A faint pulse hummed—not green, but orange, 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 chain, clad in faded denim, a woman, her wiry frame taut with defiance, orange glow pulsing steady from her rough hands, a crowbar glowing amber at her side. "Beacon," she rasped, voice low and fierce, stepping forward as her glow synced with Elias's, orange flaring bright and alive. "Knew—knew you'd come." Dust streaked her red hair, and her blue eyes glinted, a spark waking as she squared her shoulders, breath steady.
Elias's chest tightened, the ember pulsing as the Shroud's voice whispered: "She wakes with you." He nudged a pulse toward her—a warm wave, bolstering her glow, orange 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. "Orange again—Cal's got a sister," she quipped, eyeing the woman. Cal, Mara, Tuck, Ruth, Jace, Vara, and Gav stood ready, orange, purple, and green pulsing steady, a silent welcome.
The woman's lips curled, a faint smirk breaking her defiance. "Name's—name's Nora," she rasped, gripping the crowbar, orange glowing steady and firm. "Woke—weeks back, orange light, from the rails. Held—held 'em off, barely." She gestured at the chains, their edges glinting. "Felt you—burning, pulling us up." Her eyes met Elias's, sharp with a wiry fire. "They're—they're here."
Elias's stomach dropped, the ember surging as the Shroud's vision lingered—violet shadows, a maw endless. "The Order," he said, the pulse steady in his grasp. "They—they hit us, violet now—devouring us." He nudged a pulse toward the crowbar—blue and orange clashing faintly, sparking wild, a connection alive.
Before Nora 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 eight more, their armor sleek and pulsing, staffs crackling with violet energy deepened by a humming, violet abyss, tendrils of light coiling outward, sharp and insatiable, visors glowing deep and lethal.
"Beacon," the lead figure growled, voice mechanical over the whine, raising its staff. "The Silence engulfs—the scattered perish." It pulsed, violet slicing through—a wave slamming Elias back, locking his limbs, dimming the ember, the chains 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 abyss pulsed, violet flaring—a wave shattering his pulse, slamming him beside Nora, 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. Nora swung her crowbar, orange flaring—a wave clashing with violet, cracking a staff, but it pulsed, violet knocking her beside Elias, her glow dimming.
Elias's eyes blazed, the ember surging—a heat he shaped, merging with green, orange, purple, and orange 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 abyss pulsed, violet deepening—a wave shattering the torrent, locking Elias's glow, slamming him beside his team, the crates splintering in the dark.
"You shine—only to vanish," it growled, staff raised, violet flaring—a wave washing over the chamber, dimming their sparks, tendrils coiling toward Elias, cold and endless, a maw consuming 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 orange flaring faint, a torrent of light clashing with violet, cracking staffs, shattering the abyss, 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 orange flaring faint but alive. "We—we outlasted it," he panted, helping them up, the notebook clutched tight as Rory's echo whispered: "You're enough."
Nora gripped her crowbar, orange steadying, a spark rekindled. "Outlasted—barely," she rasped, eyes dark with dread. "That—that maw—it's—it's boundless."
Elias's eyes glowed, the ember a heat he wielded, the Shroud's voice firm: "You hold them—I hold you." "Then—then we burn boundless," he said, voice raw but resolute. "We find the rest—together."
The mines stretched dark, the Order's violet maw endless, but the spark burned—a thread of defiance weaving, a fight unbroken.