The chamber swallowed Elias Varn like a hollow maw, the air heavy with a stale, acrid chill that bit into his lungs, sharp and dry like ash on the wind. His boots crunched over a floor of cracked stone and scattered debris, the sound a brittle, uneven snap that echoed faintly in the vast space. His jacket hung heavy, soaked with cold sweat, the worn fabric sticking to his skin like a shroud of frost. The notebook shook in his grip, its pages warped and brittle, Rory's handwriting a fading scar under his fingers—he clutched it like a dying ember, the last flicker of warmth in the dark. Without his glasses, the shadows stretched into a distorted void, but his eyes burned with a glow that sliced through, the ember in his chest surging—hot, unyielding, a flame that defied the emptiness, fueled by Rory's voice and a resolve that burned brighter than the cold. The Beneath's resonance thrummed through the walls, a low, mournful wail that clawed at his mind, the stone shuddering like it was grieving.
Lena slumped against a jagged outcrop, her breath a quick, shallow rasp, denim torn at the seams and crusted with dust. Her dark hair hung in damp tangles, and the emerald shard in her hand flared green—faint but fierce, casting sharp glints across her scratched forearms. She winced, rubbing her temple. "Elias, that violet echo—it's shifted again. It's a void now, wailing, sucking the air out of us like a scream with no end."
Cal propped himself on his staff, its base grinding against the stone, his leather coat creaking as he drew a labored breath. His face was a mask of weariness, gray hair plastered to his scalp, but his orange glow flickered like a lone spark in the dark. "She's nailed it. It's not a sound—it's a pull, draining my spark like a vacuum, leaving nothing behind."
Mara stood rigid, gray cloak swaying in the still air, her staff casting a purple light like a dying star. Her silver hair caught the faint glow, and her scarred face was taut, eyes glinting with memory. "It's an abyss—hollow, keening. I've felt this before, when they used voids to break us, left us empty and cold. It's not fighting—it's consuming."
Tuck knelt by a pile of broken stone, flannel clinging to his frame, his knife glowing green like a defiant spark. Dust streaked his beard, hazel eyes burning. "It's a pit—empty, howling. You swing, and it just swallows your light."
Ruth stood solid, overalls crusted with grime, her hammer casting green light like a steady flame. Her brown hair clung to her neck, dark eyes fierce. "Elias, it's a chasm—wailing, endless. It's not just resisting us; it's eating us alive."
Jace shifted uneasily by an outcrop, canvas jacket snapping, wrench glowing orange in his shaky hands. Sandy hair shadowed gray eyes, voice tight. "It's a gulf—deep, shrieking. You hit it, and it just pulls harder."
Vara held her stance, black clothes sodden, cane casting purple light like a flickering storm. Her raven hair framed pale, piercing eyes. "A vortex—vacant, screaming. It's not pushing—it's drawing us in."
Gav loomed forward, khaki dripping, pickaxe glowing green in his thick hands. Sweat streaked his bald head, brown eyes burning. "A hollow—cold and loud. It's like a wind that takes everything with it."
Nora gripped a jagged rock, denim frayed, crowbar casting orange light like a sparking flame. Red hair framed blue eyes that flared. "Elias, it's a maw—yawning, crying. It's pulling us, and we can't break free."
Silas stood steady, brown coat dripping, rod glowing purple in his slender hands. Gray hair framed green eyes that held a quiet fire. "A vacuum—desolate, moaning. It's not attacking—it's draining us dry."
Elise braced herself, gray outfit soaked, mallet casting green light like a restless tide. Blonde hair clung to her face, hazel eyes sharp. "It's a gulf, Elias—empty and loud. We're swinging, and it's swallowing us whole."
Rex leaned against a rock, orange jacket creaking, pipe casting amber light in his lean grip. Black hair shadowed brown eyes that glinted. "A cavern—dark and shrieking. You strike, and it just drinks your light."
Lila swayed, purple cloak heavy, staff casting violet light like a stuttering glow. White hair framed gray eyes that shimmered. "A well—deep, wailing. It's not fighting—it's pulling us down."
Finn crouched by a cracked slab, green clothes dripping, hatchet glowing emerald in his wiry hands. Sweat streaked his buzzed head, gray eyes fierce. "A sink—cold, howling. You move, and it's already dragging you in."
Tara pressed forward, orange jacket snapping, wrench casting amber light in her grip. Brown hair plastered her face, hazel eyes blazing. "Elias, it's a rift—hollow and screaming. We're hitting it, and it's sucking us dry."
Kade stood tense, purple clothes soaked, baton casting violet light like a live spark. Black hair framed blue eyes that sparked. "A drain—shifting, keening. It's not steady—it's starving for us."
Rhea planted herself, stocky frame steady, green clothes dripping, crowbar casting emerald light. Red hair framed brown eyes that burned. "A hole—crude and loud. We're swinging, and it's pulling us apart."
Holt squared up, orange clothes sodden, hammer casting amber light in his broad grip. Blond hair framed gray eyes that flared. "A pit—raw and shrieking. You hit it, and it's already taking more."
Sable stood taut, purple clothes dripping, rod casting violet light like a jagged flare. Gray hair framed brown eyes that burned. "A void—twisted, crying. It's not breaking—it's consuming us."
Dane leaned forward, green clothes soaked, pickaxe casting emerald light in his lean hands. Brown hair framed blue eyes that sparked. "A gulf—sharp and wild. You strike, and it's already pulling harder."
Mira braced herself, orange clothes dripping, mallet casting amber light in her stocky grip. Black hair framed gray eyes that burned. "A chasm—rough and loud. We're pounding it, and it's drinking us down."
Zane stood wiry, purple clothes sodden, staff casting violet light like a restless spark. Red hair framed green eyes that flared. "A sinkhole—messy and fierce. It's not holding—it's devouring."
Cora loomed broad, green clothes dripping, hammer casting emerald light in her grip. Blonde hair framed brown eyes that smoldered. "Elias, it's a damn abyss—jagged and screaming. We're up against it, and it's eating us alive."
Nash shifted forward, orange clothes soaked, wrench casting amber light in his lean grip. Black hair framed brown eyes that sparked. "A vortex—fast and cruel. You swing, and it's already pulling you in."
Isla stood lean, purple clothes dripping, baton casting violet light like a snapping thread. Brown hair framed gray eyes that flared. "A maw—alive and wailing. It's not standing still—it's swallowing us."
Reid planted his feet, green clothes sodden, crowbar casting emerald light in his stocky grip. Gray hair framed hazel eyes that burned. "A drain—unsteady, loud. It's pulling us, and we can't break its grip."
Sage stood wiry, orange clothes dripping, pipe casting amber light in her grip. Red hair framed green eyes that flared. "A well—shattered, fierce. It's not fading—it's dragging us down."
Theo stood lean, purple clothes soaked, rod casting violet light in his grip. Black hair framed blue eyes that sparked. "A hollow—desolate, shrieking. It's not fighting—it's taking everything."
Elias's chest roared, the ember surging, and he unleashed a pulse—a fierce, searing wave that crashed into their glows, green, orange, purple flaring like a defiant storm. "Then we don't let it take us," he said, voice hoarse but rising, the Shroud's whisper clawing his mind: "You hold them—I hold you." His eyes burned, a vision slashing through the murk—faint lights pulsing in the black, purple, green, orange, a fractured web of sparks screaming beyond the stone, consumed by violet shadows that wailed and pulled. "We fill it, burn brighter, find the rest—together."
Lena flashed a grim smile, shard flaring green as she leaned closer. "Fill it? You got enough light to plug that hole, Beacon?"
His throat seized, the ember throbbing as Rory's voice snarled: "Kick their ass—for me." He forced a pulse inward, a trembling wave brushing the gold that lingered—Rory's grin flickering like a beacon he'd fight to hold. "We burn as one," he growled, eyes stinging as the ember steadied, a heat he molded fierce. "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, clawing through the void.
Theo stepped forward, rod tapping the stone, purple flaring sharp. "East," he rasped, pointing at a tunnel—its mouth gaping and slick, black water dripping like a jagged vein. "Felt a spark—green, faint but steady. It's right there, waiting." His blue eyes locked on Elias's, lean trust cutting through the chaos. "You leading this charge, Beacon?"
Mara shifted, purple steady, voice a low growl. "They're close. Violet's buzzing—sharp and uneven."
Elias's pulse hammered, the ember a heat he gripped, and he strode toward the tunnel, his crew surging behind—Lena's quick smirk, Cal's rough wheeze, Mara's iron stare, Tuck's silent rage, Ruth's steady mass, Jace's jittery spark, Vara's cold focus, Gav's brute force, Nora's blazing edge, Silas's quiet steel, Elise's firm resolve, Rex's lean bite, Lila's frail defiance, Finn's wiry snap, Tara's fierce glare, Kade's taut precision, Rhea's solid fire, Holt's broad strength, Sable's wiry flare, Dane's lean grit, Mira's stocky heat, Zane's quick spark, Cora's broad power, Nash's lean drive, Isla's sharp edge, Reid's stocky resolve, Sage's wiry fire, and Theo's lean spark. "Then we light it up," he said, voice raw but climbing, boots pounding the stone.
The tunnel snaked east, air frigid and thick, walls slick and uneven, water dripping in erratic plinks that clashed with the thud in Elias's chest. It spat them into a chamber—sprawling and rough, walls slick with moisture, floor a tangle of rusted pipes and splintered wood, the air heavy with damp iron and rot. A faint pulse thrummed—green, deep and restless, and Elias's ember flared, his eyes blazing as he threw a wave—swift, fierce, tearing the dark like a claw.
A figure stepped out—not hesitant, but bold, clad in faded green, a woman with a stocky frame and a stance that dared the world to strike. Green glow pulsed from her hands, a mallet glowing emerald in her grip. "Beacon," she said, voice deep and rough, closing the gap as her glow synced with Elias's, green flaring bright and alive. "Caught your fire through the stone." Dust streaked her short, blonde hair, and her brown eyes sparked, a fire kicking up as she planted her feet, breath steady.
Elias's chest tightened, the ember pulsing as the Shroud muttered: "She wakes with you." He shoved a warm wave toward her, green flaring brighter, a spark binding them. "You're with us," he said, voice raw but firm, stepping closer. "The scattered—we're breaking through."
Lena edged in, green flaring as she cracked a weary grin. "Green again? We're a damn forest now." The crew spread out—Cal, Mara, Tuck, Ruth, Jace, Vara, Gav, Nora, Silas, Elise, Rex, Lila, Finn, Tara, Kade, Rhea, Holt, Sable, Dane, Mira, Zane, Cora, Nash, Isla, Reid, Sage, and Theo—orange, purple, green pulsing steady, a jagged line ready to strike.
The woman's jaw twitched, a quick grin breaking her edge. "Name's Bryn," she rasped, gripping the mallet, green glowing firm. "Woke weeks back, green light, deep in the shafts. Fought 'em off, barely." She nodded at the pipes, slick and glinting. "Felt you—blazing, dragging us out." Her brown eyes met Elias's, sharp with stocky fire. "They're here—closing fast."
Elias's gut dropped, the ember surging as the Shroud's vision hit—violet shadows, a void wailing. "The Order," he said, pulse steady in his hands. "They're throwing violet—pulling us into a void." He nudged a pulse toward the mallet—blue and green clashing, sparking alive, a bond ignited.
Before Bryn could respond, the chamber shuddered—a wailing void tearing through the air, rumbling from the tunnel like a beast clawing free. Elias's ember roared, his eyes blazing as he spun, throwing a wave—swift, shaped, ripping the dark like a fang. A violet-helmed figure emerged—not alone, but with twenty-eight more, their armor sleek and pulsing, staffs crackling with violet energy, a wailing violet void surging around them, tendrils of light snapping out, sharp and ravenous, visors glowing deep and deadly.
"Beacon," the lead figure snarled, voice a mechanical rasp over the void, staff raised high. "The Silence consumes—the scattered vanish!" It pulsed, violet ripping through—a wave slamming Elias back, locking his arms, dimming the ember, pipes clanging like a snapped spine.
Elias's chest burned, the ember surging—a heat he unleashed, a pulse breaking free, blue and gold crashing into violet, sparking wild. It gouged the lead figure's armor, but the void pulled, violet flaring—a wave shattering his pulse, hurling him beside Bryn, the ember stuttering. Lena lunged, green blazing—a wave slashing the figures, snapping a staff, but a second pulsed, violet throwing her against the wall, dust bursting as she cursed.
"Fill it!" Cal roared, orange flaring as he swung his staff, a wave smashing violet, scarring a helm, but a third figure pulsed, violet slamming him down, his glow fading. Mara struck, purple blazing—a wave slicing violet, gashing armor, but it pulsed back, violet knocking her flat, her staff clattering. Tuck surged, green roaring—his knife wave tearing violet, nicking a visor, but it pulsed, violet hurling him beside Elias, his glow dimming. The crew charged—Ruth's hammer, Jace's wrench, Vara's cane, Gav's pickaxe, Nora's crowbar, Silas's rod, Elise's mallet, Rex's pipe, Lila's staff, Finn's hatchet, Tara's wrench, Kade's baton, Rhea's crowbar, Holt's hammer, Sable's rod, Dane's pickaxe, Mira's mallet, Zane's staff, Cora's hammer, Nash's wrench, Isla's baton, Reid's crowbar, Sage's pipe, Theo's rod, Bryn's mallet—green, orange, purple blazing, waves slashing, gouging violet, but each pulse pulled harder, throwing them back, glows flickering.
Elias's eyes flared, the ember roaring—a heat he shaped, merging with their glows in a torrent—blue, gold, emerald, amber, violet tearing into the figures, gashing helms, driving them back. The chamber quaked, violet sparking, and the void snarled, violet twisting—a wave smashing the torrent, locking Elias's glow, hurling him beside his crew, pipes snapping like bones.
"You light—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 void slashing his ember.
A gold flare erupted—not blue, but Rory's echo, fierce and wild, bursting from Elias's chest—a wave smashing the figure back, snapping its staff, sparking alive. His breath caught, the ember flaring as Rory's voice roared: "Kick their ass—for me." The gold surged, fusing with his pulse—blue and gold, green, orange, purple blazing faint, a torrent ripping into violet, gashing staffs, tearing the void, driving the figures back into the tunnel, violet flickering out.
Elias hauled himself up, the ember pulsing—a rough wave brushing their glows, green, orange, purple flaring faint but kicking. "We—we filled it," he rasped, dragging them up, notebook clutched tight as Rory's echo growled: "You're enough."
Bryn gripped her mallet, green steadying, a spark clawing back. "Filled it—damn near didn't. That void's a beast that doesn't stop."
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 keep burning," he said, voice raw but steady, boots planted. "We find the rest—together."
The mines sprawled dark and desolate, the Order's violet void wailing, but the spark burned—a flame of defiance kicking, a fight clawing to breathe. And out there, the next pulse thrummed.