The crystal storm started with a sound like breaking glass.
Korath was working deep in the tunnels when the first tremor hit. Dust rained from the ceiling. The blue crystals embedded in the walls began to pulse with light, growing brighter with each heartbeat.
"Storm!" someone yelled.
Chaos erupted. Slaves dropped their tools, covering their heads. Overseers shouted orders, but their voices were drowned out by the rising hum of magic building in the stone.
The crystals flared brilliant blue. The air itself seemed to vibrate, making Korath's teeth ache. His skin tingled like a thousand tiny insects crawled over it.
"Everyone out!" An overseer's voice boomed. "To the upper levels! Move!"
The slaves didn't need to be told twice. They stampeded toward the exit tunnels, a desperate surge of bodies. Korath let himself be pulled along, keeping his head down.
This was it. The moment they'd waited for.
Around him, the tunnels blazed with light. Crystals shattered, sending razor-sharp fragments flying. A man screamed as a shard embedded in his shoulder. No one stopped to help him.
Korath's eyes found Daven in the crowd. The older boy gave a subtle nod—the signal. Slowly, carefully, Korath began working his way toward the east tunnels. Others did the same, splitting off from the main group.
The overseers were too busy managing the evacuation to notice a few slaves going the wrong direction.
The plan was working.
Korath reached a side passage and ducked into it. Sera appeared beside him a moment later, then Brick, then others. Fifteen slaves in total, breathing hard in the flickering light.
"Supply room first," Daven whispered. "Tam, Brick—you're with me. Rest of you, head to the collapse point. We'll catch up."
The group split. Korath went with Sera and eight others, moving fast through tunnels that pulsed with barely controlled energy. The storm was getting worse. Crystal fragments littered the ground, crunching under their feet.
"How much farther?" someone panted.
"Not far," Sera replied. "Keep moving."
They turned a corner and nearly ran into an overseer.
The man was young, barely older than Daven, with the nervous look of someone caught where they shouldn't be. His hand went to his whip—then froze as he saw how many of them there were.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then Korath lunged.
He'd never attacked anyone before. Never even considered it. But something in him snapped—five years of fear and pain and darkness compressed into a single moment of fury.
His shoulder hit the overseer's chest, driving them both into the wall. The man's breath exploded out. His whip fell.
Korath grabbed it.
The overseer's eyes widened. "Wait—"
Korath brought the whip handle down on his skull. Once. Twice. The third time, the man stopped moving.
Silence.
Korath stared at his hands. They were shaking. The whip felt heavy as iron, slick with blood that wasn't his own.
"Good," Sera said quietly. "First one's always hardest."
"Is he..." Korath couldn't finish.
"Does it matter?" She pulled the whip from his grip. "He'd have killed us all. Come on."
They left the overseer crumpled in the tunnel. Whether he was dead or unconscious, Korath didn't know.
Didn't want to know.
But as they ran, he couldn't stop seeing the man's face. The surprise. The fear.
I'm a killer now, he thought distantly. That's what survival costs.
The collapse point was exactly where Daven had described—a section of tunnel where the ceiling had caved in years ago, leaving a wall of broken stone and rubble. Already, several slaves were there, trying to look casual despite their terror.
"Where's Daven?" someone asked.
"Coming," Sera replied. "Start digging. Quietly."
They attacked the rubble with stolen tools and bare hands, working to clear a path. The stones were heavy, jagged, unforgiving. Korath's fingers bled anew, but he didn't stop.
Behind them, the storm raged. The entire mountain seemed to shake. Crystal fragments rained like deadly snow.
"Hurry," someone whimpered. "They'll realize we're missing soon."
"Then dig faster," Sera snapped.
A gap appeared in the rubble. Then a hole. Cool air rushed through—fresh air, just like Daven had said. It smelled of earth and growing things, so different from the mine's stale breath that Korath almost sobbed.
"It's real," someone whispered. "It's actually real."
Footsteps echoed from behind them.
Everyone froze.
"Go!" Sera hissed. "Through the hole! Now!"
Tam went first, his small body slipping through easily. Others followed, struggling with the tight space. Korath helped push them through, all the while listening to those footsteps getting closer.
Daven burst around the corner, Brick right behind him. Both men carried sacks bulging with stolen supplies.
"Overseers coming!" Daven panted. "Thirty seconds, maybe less!"
"Get through!" Sera grabbed the sacks, shoving them into the hole. "Everyone move!"
Korath squeezed into the gap. Stone scraped his sides, his shoulders. For a horrible moment, he thought he was stuck—then he popped through into darkness beyond.
More slaves followed. Brick barely fit, his huge frame wedging in the hole. Daven and two others pushed from behind while Korath and Sera pulled from the front.
"Almost there," Sera grunted. "Come on, big man—"
Brick exploded through, all of them tumbling backward.
"Where's—" Korath started.
The tunnel behind them lit up with torch light.
"Slaves!" An overseer's voice roared. "They're in the collapse tunnel!"
Daven appeared in the hole, his face desperate. Behind him, shadows moved.
"Go!" he shouted. "I'll hold them—"
"Like hell," Brick growled. He grabbed Daven's arms and hauled him through with pure strength.
But as Daven came through, so did an overseer's hand, grabbing his ankle.
Korath didn't think. He brought his pickaxe down on the arm.
The overseer screamed. His grip loosened. Daven kicked free, and they all scrambled backward as more hands reached through the gap.
"Block it!" Sera yelled.
They piled stones back into the hole, working frantically. Behind the rubble, the overseers screamed threats. Metal clanged against stone as they tried to break through.
"It won't hold long," Daven panted. "We need to run. Now."
The group stumbled into the darkness, following that current of fresh air. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit echoed—fainter, but still there.
They were out of the mines.
But the real running had just begun.