Captain Vorn stood over a projection table, the veins in the floor glowing faint blue beneath her boots. Beside her, a rough map flickered — tunnels, shafts, and long-forgotten branches, one of them marked Sector Seven: Restricted.
"Collapsed corridor, minor instability, no confirmed corruption," Vorn said. Her tone was clipped, professional, but her eyes kept darting toward Lucas's wrist — the faint golden pulse of his bracer betraying her composure.
"You'll accompany Ryn, Ira, and Barek. Clear the area, survey the flow lines, and report any anomalies. If you see gold, you leave."
"Got it," Lucas said. "If it glows, we go."
"Precisely."
Barek smirked. "Finally something that doesn't want to eat us. Probably."
"Don't jinx it," Ryn muttered.
As the briefing broke, Lucas followed his team to the staging bay. Miners and guards prepped gear, checked respirators, and tested vein-thread cables that shimmered faintly with stored energy. The hum of generators mixed with the low rhythm of boots and banter — the sound of life returning to the Holdfast.
The tunnel to Sector Seven was half-collapsed, reinforced by metal ribs that moaned faintly as they passed. Ryn led the way, her lantern casting long shadows across the walls. Ira followed, murmuring softly — prayers or calibration, Lucas couldn't tell. Barek trudged behind with the ease of a man who'd seen worse tunnels and lived to mock them.
Lucas trailed near the middle, adjusting his new bracer. The faint gold veins along its edge pulsed whenever his hand brushed against the rock, as if the veins in the walls were answering back.
"Still humming?" Ryn asked over her shoulder.
"Yeah," Lucas said. "Like it's picking up a radio station I don't want."
Barek laughed. "Get used to it. Everything down here hums — stone, pipes, stomachs."
"Mine's in D minor," Lucas muttered.
Ryn cracked a small smile but didn't slow her pace. "Try not to turn this into another musical number."
They reached an old junction chamber, half-filled with derelict mining gear and forgotten crates. The veins in the walls glowed a faint green here, softer than the usual blue. Ryn called for a short break while Barek checked a cracked stabilizer crystal.
Lucas dropped onto a crate, wiping sweat from his neck. "So this is what counts as a scenic route?"
"Used to be a transport path," Ryn said. "Before the first collapse took the lift system."
Ira knelt beside one of the glowing conduits, tracing a finger over its surface. The veinlight rippled at her touch, almost playfully. "It's stabilizing. The energy here feels clean again."
"Feels?" Lucas echoed. "Like… emotionally?"
Ira smiled faintly. "You can't sense it? The flow's steady. Gentle. No corruption."
"I'll take your word for it. My version of feeling the flow usually involves passing out."
Barek chuckled from across the room. "Don't worry. We'll put that fancy bracer of yours to the test soon enough."
Ryn shot him a look. "Don't encourage him."
As they pressed deeper into the tunnels, conversation drifted between stretches of silence — the rhythm of people who trusted their ears more than their eyes.
Barek was the first to break it.
"You know, I lost this arm to a collapse like this one. Sector Three. Whole ceiling came down on me."
Lucas glanced at the man's mechanical forearm — polished metal and sinew cables that whirred faintly. "And you made it out?"
Barek chuckled softly, the sound echoing off the stone. "Depends on your definition. The man that crawled out wasn't me. Died once already — came back with metal where blood used to be."
He flexed the prosthetic, and the faint blue veins running through it pulsed once, like a heartbeat. "Now I creak instead of bleed. Makes maintenance easier, I guess."
Ryn gave him a sidelong look. "You tell that story like it's something to be proud of."
Barek smirked. "Not proud. Just proof that stubbornness beats luck."
Lucas smiled faintly. "Guess you're living proof of that."
The laughter faded as Ryn spoke softly. "My brother didn't make it out of Sector Five. He was a mapper — thought he could read the veins like a language. Said they sang if you listened hard enough."
She hesitated, eyes fixed on the glowing walls ahead. "He wasn't wrong. The day he died, the veins were screaming."
The air went still. Even Barek's grin faltered.
Lucas hesitated. "I'm sorry."
Ryn nodded once. "He taught me how to read flow lines before I could walk. Guess I'm still following his path — just trying not to end up where he did."
Ira broke the silence, her voice calm but heavy. "I watched Sector Five burn during a surge. I still see the light when I close my eyes. Beautiful… and terrible. That's why I stayed. The veins can take, but they can also give. Balance matters."
"Yeah," Lucas said quietly, staring at the faint shimmer along his bracer. "Guess we're all trying to take a little back."
A quiet settled over the group again, broken only by the soft drip of condensation and the thud of boots on stone.
When they stopped to rest, Barek dug through his pack and produced a small metal cube. He twisted it once, and it flickered to life — a portable lantern that shimmered with a faint blue-white flame.
Lucas stared at it. "Okay, that's cool. Do I get one of those?"
Barek smirked. "You could've, but you spent your budget on fashion." He gestured to Lucas's jacket and the faintly glowing ducks peeking out from underneath. "Priorities."
Lucas laughed under his breath. "Hey, the ducks are my lucky charm."
Ryn snorted. "Then we're doomed."
"Wow. Such team spirit."
For a brief moment, they all laughed — a real laugh this time, not one born of nerves. It was small but grounding, like a spark in the dark.
When the laughter faded, Ryn tossed Lucas a canteen. "Drink. You look like a ghost."
"Thanks, Mom," he said, taking a long sip. The water was metallic but cold — good enough.
Ryn leaned against the wall, her gaze distant. "You know, this used to be my brother's route. He mapped these tunnels."
Lucas frowned. "The same brother from before?"
She nodded. "He thought the veins had a pattern. That if you listened long enough, you could predict their flow."
"Was he right?"
Ryn smiled faintly. "Maybe. Or maybe he just went crazy trying."
Lucas stared at the glowing veins along the wall. "Seems like a family trend down here."
She chuckled softly. "You're fitting right in."
Barek poked at the lantern flame with a tool. "So, Lucas," he said casually, "you never told us where you're from."
The question caught him mid-sip. "What?"
"Yeah," Barek said, leaning back against a crate. "You've got the accent of someone who didn't grow up down here. You talk weird, dress weird, and somehow made the captain laugh once. That's basically foreign."
Ryn smirked. "I'm guessing surface-born. Maybe one of those wandering traders?"
Ira tilted her head, studying him. "No. There's something else about him. The veins react to him. Like they… recognize him."
Lucas forced a smile. "Wow. That's not creepy at all."
Barek grinned. "Come on, humor us. Where's home for you?"
Lucas hesitated. His brain scrambled for an answer that wasn't another world entirely.
He stared into the soft glow of the lantern, the reflection dancing over his bracer. "Home's… complicated."
"That's not an answer," Ryn said, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah," Lucas said softly. "I guess that's kind of the point."
The others exchanged a glance — not pressing, but curious. Ira looked as though she wanted to ask more but didn't. Barek shrugged and went back to poking the flame.
"Complicated," Ryn echoed after a beat. "I'll take that over 'classified' any day."
Lucas smiled faintly. "Maybe someday I'll give you the long version."
"Someday," Barek said, "we'll get drunk enough to make you."
"Then I'm definitely rationing the booze."
The group chuckled again, and for a few moments, it felt almost normal — just four people sitting in the dark, sharing warmth and stories. But under the laughter, Lucas's chest tightened with something heavy.
If I told them the truth, he thought, they'd think I'm insane. Maybe they'd be right.
He looked at the faint pulse of light on his wrist and wondered if, somewhere far above, the night sky of Earth still existed — or if Spheria had swallowed him whole.
They reached the far end of the tunnel — a collapsed vault where the veins formed strange branching patterns along the wall, spiraling inward toward a point that shimmered faintly gold.
Ryn frowned. "That's not on the map."
"Please tell me it's not glowing gold-gold," Lucas said.
"It's… close," she admitted.
The bracer on Lucas's wrist pulsed once — stronger this time. A warm vibration traveled up his arm, steady and alive. The others noticed.
Barek took a cautious step back. "That thing's reacting."
"No kidding," Lucas muttered. "Feels like it wants a high five with the wall."
Ryn crouched to inspect the formation. "These patterns… they're veins, but twisted. Like something's forcing the energy into a spiral."
Ira closed her eyes, whispering. "It's not corrupted. It's calling."
Lucas blinked. "Calling what, exactly?"
Her eyes opened — glowing faintly with reflected gold. "Us."
The word hung in the air.
Before anyone could speak again, the ground trembled faintly. Not violently — just enough to make dust fall and the wall's golden spiral brighten for a single heartbeat before dimming again.
Then, silence.
The team decided to pull back, marking the spot for further inspection. On the way out, they talked less, each lost in thought.
Ryn kept glancing over her shoulder. Ira's hands stayed clasped, murmuring prayers to the veins. Barek hummed tunelessly, trying to cover the unease. And Lucas, walking behind them, couldn't stop staring at the faintly glowing bracer.
He flexed his wrist, and for a moment, he could've sworn he heard something beneath the hum — a single, slow heartbeat echoing from deep below.
[Quest Progress Updated: The Heart Below — Status: Stirring]
Lucas exhaled. "Oh, great. It's stirring now. Because that's what I needed — a dramatic quest update."
Ryn looked back. "Did you say something?"
"Yeah," Lucas said, forcing a grin. "Just… talking to my wrist."
She sighed. "You're getting weirder every day, you know that?"
"Hey," he said. "It's part of the charm."
They stepped out into the light of the upper tunnels, unaware that deep below them, the same golden spiral began to pulse again — faint but growing, like something breathing in its sleep