The chamber hit Elias Varn like a slap—damp, cold, and reeking of rust so sharp it burned his throat. His boots crunched through the muck, coal dust and blood sticking to the soles, each step a gritty scrape that echoed too loud in the pressing dark. His jacket sagged on him, soaked and heavy, the faded fabric clinging like a second skin he couldn't peel off. The notebook trembled in his grip, its pages a mess of smudged ink and dirt, Rory's words bleeding under his fingers—he held it tight, like it might keep him from falling apart. Without his glasses, the shadows smeared into a blurry soup, but his eyes flickered with a glow that cut through, the ember in his chest pounding—wild, fierce, a spark that roared against the void, fueled by Rory's voice and a stubborn fire he couldn't douse. The Beneath's hum shook the walls, a low, frantic rumble that buzzed in his skull, the stone quaking like it was screaming.
Lena slumped against a rusted beam, her breath a harsh rasp slicing the air, her denim stiff with grime and sweat. Her dark hair plastered to her forehead in wet clumps, and the emerald shard in her hand pulsed green—faint but defiant, throwing sharp flickers across her cracked skin. She rubbed her shoulder, wincing hard, green eyes glinting through the gloom. "Elias," she said, voice rough and quick, "that violet pit—it's not just bottomless now. It's a damn roar, deafening, and we're the echo it's out to crush."
Cal hunched a step away, his staff thunking the stone, his leather coat creaking as he coughed—a wet, hacking bark that sprayed dust into the damp. His gaunt face was hollow, gray hair slick over sunken eyes, but his orange glow flickered like a coal refusing to die. "She's got it," he rasped, gripping the staff, orange flaring weak. "Felt it—like a howl tearing through me, starving for my spark."
Mara stood stiff, her gray cloak swaying in the thick air, her staff pulsing purple like a wound against the dark. Her silver hair caught the dim light, and her scarred face was tight, eyes glinting with old scars. "It's a bellow," she said, voice low and rough, dragged from somewhere deep. "Violet's not swallowing—it's shouting us down. Saw it before, when they drowned my kin in noise, left nothing but silence." She pointed at the walls, slick and trembling like a throat. "This ain't a pit—it's a storm."
Tuck crouched by a busted crate, his flannel pulled tight, his knife glowing green in his big hands. Dust matted his beard, and his hazel eyes burned fierce. "Felt it ringing," he growled, locking onto Elias. "Like a bell with no end, shaking me apart."
Ruth towered beside him, her overalls stiff with muck, her hammer pulsing green like a war drum. Her short, brown hair framed dark eyes that blazed, and her voice rolled deep. "They're a thunderclap, Elias. Next boom's gonna shatter us."
Jace leaned against a beam, his canvas jacket creaking, his wrench glowing orange in his shaky grip. Sandy hair flopped over gray eyes, and he spoke fast, voice tight. "It's loud—like a siren you can't shut off, screaming us out."
Vara stood rigid, her black clothes streaked with grime, her cane pulsing purple like a warning flare. Her raven hair framed pale eyes that cut the dark, and her voice was sharp. "A gale," she rasped, stepping closer. "Howling, blasting us away."
Gav shifted his bulk, his khaki rustling, his pickaxe glowing green in his fists. His bald head shone with sweat, and his brown eyes flared. "A rumble," he grunted, voice thick. "Shaking us down, no stop."
Nora braced against a chain, her denim taut, her crowbar pulsing orange like a live wire. Red hair framed blue eyes that sparked, and her voice snapped. "A blast, Elias. Blowing us out, roaring for our light."
Silas stood steady, his brown coat streaked with filth, his rod glowing purple in his thin hands. Gray hair framed green eyes that held a quiet fire, and his voice was low. "A drone," he said, glancing at Elias. "Humming, drowning us out."
Elise stood solid, her gray outfit stiff with dust, her mallet pulsing green like a heartbeat. Blonde hair framed hazel eyes that burned, and her voice hit hard. "A crash," she rasped. "Smashing us, endless."
Rex leaned against a chain, his orange jacket creaking, his pipe glowing amber in his lean grip. Black hair fell over brown eyes that glinted, and his voice was a snarl. "A growl," he said. "Snapping, roaring for us."
Lila stood frail but fierce, her purple cloak swaying, her staff glowing violet like a fading star. White hair framed gray eyes that shimmered, and her voice was soft but sharp. "A wail," she whispered, locking onto Elias. "Screaming, hungering for our sparks."
Finn stood by a gear, his green clothes streaked with muck, his hatchet pulsing emerald in his wiry hands. Sweat beaded on his buzzed head, and his gray eyes flared. "A boom," he rasped, voice raw. "Crashing, ready to deafen."
Tara leaned forward, her orange jacket creaking, her wrench glowing amber in her grip. Brown hair stuck to her face, and her hazel eyes blazed. "A roar," she growled. "Bellowing, starving for us."
Kade stood lean and hard, his purple clothes streaked with grime, his baton glowing violet in his hands. Black hair framed blue eyes that sparked, and his voice was rough. "A shout," he rasped, glancing at Elias. "Yelling, blasting us down."
Rhea stood stocky and fierce, her green clothes stiff with muck, her crowbar pulsing emerald in her grip. Red hair framed brown eyes that burned, and her voice was a thud. "A holler," she rasped. "Rattling us, endless."
Elias's chest burned, the ember kicking hard, and he shoved a pulse out—a rough, hot wave that slammed their glows, green, orange, purple flaring up like a fist in the dark. "Then we don't shut up," he said, voice cracking but climbing, the Shroud's whisper clawing his skull: "You hold them—I hold you." His eyes lit up, a vision slashing through the blur—faint lights pulsing in the black, purple, green, orange, a ragged web of sparks screaming from beyond the stone, chased by violet shadows roaring like a storm. "We shout back, burn louder, find the rest—together."
Lena grinned, tired but sharp, nudging the shard as green flared. "Shout back, huh?" she said, leaning in. "You got a yell big enough to drown that roar, Beacon?"
His throat caught, the ember throbbing as Rory's voice snarled: "Kick their ass—for me." He pushed a pulse inward, a shaky wave brushing the gold that lingered—Rory's grin flickering like a flare in his head, a spark he'd fight for. "We burn as one," he muttered, blinking back the sting as the ember steadied, a heat he wrestled into shape. "The Shroud's ours, not its." He turned to the tunnels, the ember yanking him—those distant pulses buzzing in his bones, the scattered out there, yelling to be found.
Rhea straightened, her crowbar tapping the stone, green flaring fierce. "West," she rasped, pointing to a tunnel—its mouth slick and dark, dripping with black water like a snarling maw. "Felt something—orange, maybe. Close—damn close." Her brown eyes hit Elias's, a stocky trust cutting through the dread. "Your call, Beacon."
Mara nodded, purple pulsing steady, her voice a low growl. "They're here. Violet's shaking—feel it in your gut."
Elias's heart slammed, the ember a heat he gripped, and he stepped toward the tunnel, his crew piling in—Lena's quick grin, Cal's rough hack, Mara's hard stare, Tuck's low snarl, Ruth's steady bulk, Jace's twitchy edge, Vara's sharp calm, Gav's thick grit, Nora's fierce spark, Silas's quiet steel, Elise's solid fire, Rex's lean bite, Lila's frail fight, Finn's wiry snarl, Tara's blazing defiance, Kade's lean edge, and Rhea's stocky fire. "Then we scream louder," he said, voice shaking but rising, boots thudding hard.
The tunnel twisted west, the air cold and thick, walls slick as a throat, water dripping in sharp plinks that matched the pounding in Elias's chest. It spat them into a chamber—wide and raw, walls weeping with damp, floor a tangle of rusted pipes and splintered crates, the air heavy with wet iron and rot. A faint pulse hummed—not green, but orange, steady and deep, and Elias's ember flared, his eyes glowing as he threw a wave—hard, slicing, cutting the dark like a knife.
A figure stepped out—not creeping, but striding, clad in faded orange, a man with a broad frame and a stance that dared the world to hit him. Orange glow pulsed from his hands, a hammer glowing amber in his grip. "Beacon," he said, voice low and rough, closing the gap as his glow synced with Elias's, orange flaring bright and alive. "Felt your fire through the stone." Dust streaked his short, blond hair, and his gray eyes sparked, a fire kicking up as he squared his shoulders, breath steady.
Elias's chest tightened, the ember pulsing as the Shroud muttered: "He wakes with you." He shoved a warm wave toward him, orange flaring brighter, a spark shared. "You're with us," he said, voice raw but firm, stepping closer. "The scattered—we're fighting back."
Lena edged up, green flaring as she grinned, tired but sharp. "Orange again? Hell, we're a damn blaze now," she said, sizing him up. The crew spread out—Cal, Mara, Tuck, Ruth, Jace, Vara, Gav, Nora, Silas, Elise, Rex, Lila, Finn, Tara, Kade, and Rhea—orange, purple, green pulsing steady, a jagged line ready to roar.
The man's lips quirked, a quick grin breaking his edge. "Name's Holt," he rasped, gripping the hammer, orange glowing steady. "Woke weeks back, orange light, from the forge. Held 'em off, barely." He nodded at the pipes, wet and glinting. "Felt you—burning, hauling us up." His gray eyes locked on Elias's, sharp with a broad fire. "They're here—now."
Elias's gut dropped, the ember surging as the Shroud's vision hit—violet shadows, a roar blasting. "The Order," he said, pulse steady in his hands. "They're hitting us with violet—drowning us out." He nudged a pulse toward the hammer—blue and orange clashing, sparking wild, a bond alive.
Before Holt could answer, the chamber shook—a low, deafening roar ripping through the air, echoing from the tunnel like a beast breaking loose. Elias's ember flared, his eyes blazing as he spun, throwing a wave—sharp, shaped, slashing the dark like claws. A violet-helmed figure loomed—not alone, but with seventeen more, their armor sleek and pulsing, staffs crackling with violet energy, an endless violet roar swirling around them, tendrils of light snapping out, sharp and ravenous, visors glowing deep and deadly.
"Beacon," the lead figure snarled, voice a mechanical howl over the roar, staff raised high. "The Silence deafens—the scattered fade!" It pulsed, violet tearing through—a wave slamming Elias back, locking his arms, dimming the ember, the pipes rattling like bones.
Elias's chest burned, the ember surging—a heat he threw, a pulse breaking free, blue and gold smashing into violet, sparking wild. It cracked the lead figure's armor, but the roar blasted, violet flaring—a wave shattering his pulse, hurling him beside Holt, the ember stuttering. Lena lunged, green blazing—a wave smashing the figures, cracking a staff, but a second pulsed, violet slamming her against the wall, dust bursting as she gasped.
"Together!" Cal roared, orange flaring as he swung his staff, a wave crashing into violet, cracking a helm, but a third figure pulsed, violet throwing him down, his glow fading. Mara pulsed, purple blazing—a wave slashing violet, cracking armor, but it pulsed back, violet knocking her flat, her staff skittering. Tuck charged, green roaring—a wave from his knife slicing violet, cracking a visor, but it pulsed, violet slamming him beside Elias, his glow dimming. Ruth swung her hammer, green blazing—a wave smashing violet, cracking a staff, but it pulsed, violet hurling her down, her glow fading. Jace swung his wrench, orange roaring—a wave hitting violet, cracking a helm, but it pulsed, violet slamming him beside Elias, his glow dimming. Vara swung her cane, purple blazing—a wave cutting violet, cracking a staff, but it pulsed, violet knocking her beside Elias, her glow fading. Gav swung his pickaxe, green roaring—a wave smashing violet, cracking a helm, but it pulsed, violet throwing him beside Elias, his glow dimming. Nora swung her crowbar, orange blazing—a wave crashing violet, cracking a staff, but it pulsed, violet slamming her beside Elias, her glow fading. Silas swung his rod, purple roaring—a wave slicing violet, cracking a helm, but it pulsed, violet knocking him beside Elias, his glow dimming. Elise swung her mallet, green blazing—a wave smashing violet, cracking a staff, but it pulsed, violet hurling her beside Elias, her glow fading. Rex swung his pipe, orange roaring—a wave hitting violet, cracking a helm, but it pulsed, violet slamming him beside Elias, his glow dimming. Lila swung her staff, purple blazing—a wave cutting violet, cracking a staff, but it pulsed, violet knocking her beside Elias, her glow fading. Finn swung his hatchet, green roaring—a wave slashing violet, cracking a helm, but it pulsed, violet throwing him beside Elias, his glow dimming. Tara swung her wrench, orange blazing—a wave smashing violet, cracking a staff, but it pulsed, violet hurling her beside Elias, her glow fading. Kade swung his baton, purple roaring—a wave slicing violet, cracking a helm, but it pulsed, violet slamming him beside Elias, his glow dimming. Rhea swung her crowbar, green blazing—a wave smashing violet, cracking a staff, but it pulsed, violet hurling her beside Elias, her glow fading. Holt swung his hammer, orange blazing—a wave smashing violet, cracking a helm, but it pulsed, violet throwing him beside Elias, his glow fading.
Elias's eyes blazed, the ember roaring—a heat he shaped, merging with green, orange, purple, and orange in a torrent of light—blue, gold, emerald, flame, and violet crashing into the figures, shattering helms, driving them back. The chamber thundered, violet sparking wild, and the roar snarled, violet deepening—a wave smashing the torrent, locking Elias's glow, slamming him beside his crew, crates splintering like kindling.
"You shout—only to fade," it snarled, staff raised, violet flaring—a wave flooding the chamber, dimming their sparks, tendrils snapping toward Elias, cold and ravenous, a roar drowning his ember.
A gold flare slashed through—not blue, but Rory's echo, fierce and wild, bursting from Elias's chest—a wave smashing the figure back, cracking its staff, sparking wild. His breath caught, the ember flaring as Rory's voice 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 crashing into violet, cracking staffs, shattering the roar, driving the figures back into the tunnel, violet winking out.
Elias hauled himself up, the ember pulsing—a rough wave brushing their glows, green, orange, purple, and orange flaring faint but kicking. "We—we drowned it," he panted, dragging them up, the notebook clutched tight as Rory's echo growled: "You're enough."
Holt gripped his hammer, orange steadying, a spark clawing back. "Drowned it—barely," he rasped, gray eyes dark with dread. "That—that roar—it's relentless."
Elias's eyes glowed, the ember a heat he wrestled, the Shroud's voice a low rumble: "You hold them—I hold you." "Then we outlast it," he said, voice raw but steady, boots planted hard. "We find the rest—together."
The mines stretched dark and loud, the Order's violet roar blasting, but the spark burned—a flame of defiance kicking, a fight clawing to breathe. And out there, the next pulse thundered.