The Holdfast was breathing again.
For the first time since the collapses, the halls buzzed with sound — the clang of tools, the rumble of carts, the murmur of people daring to laugh again. Lanterns glowed steady blue in their wall sockets, and the veins threading through the stone pulsed with the faint rhythm of life.
Lucas leaned against a railing overlooking the lower terraces. Below him, miners moved like ants through the maze of scaffolds and pulleys, hauling stabilized crystals into carts. The air smelled of hot metal and dust, but it was better than the silence that had filled these halls days ago.
Still, something about the light bothered him. Every few minutes, the veins flickered — a blink, subtle but out of rhythm. He could feel it through the bracer on his wrist, a faint vibration traveling up his arm each time the flow stuttered.
He tapped the metal absently. "Don't start humming now," he muttered. "We just got things fixed."
"Talking to your wrist again?" Barek called from below, hefting a crate with his mechanical arm.
"Yeah," Lucas said. "It's the only one that listens."
Vorn had reassigned him to "light duty" for the week — assisting with inspections, helping patch minor breaches in the vein channels, and generally staying out of trouble. Which, for Lucas, was like asking a cat not to chase the laser pointer.
He spent most of his days moving between teams, learning to read the veins the way Ryn had taught him — watching for discolored glow, cracks in the conduit, pulsing irregularities. At first, he could only guess. Then, slowly, he started to feel them.
There was a rhythm to the energy — like currents under the skin of the stone. When it flowed too fast, it made the air taste sharp, metallic. When it weakened, the tunnels felt heavy, like the air itself sagged.
One afternoon, while helping a pair of miners reseal a breach, he caught it — a subtle thrum beneath his boots, a faint static hum out of sync with the rest. He crouched, touching the wall.
"Stop," he said suddenly.
The older miner frowned. "What's the problem?"
"Crack in the vein — right behind this layer." Lucas traced a finger across the rock. "If you patch it here, it'll blow again in an hour."
The man hesitated, then gestured for his partner to check. Sure enough, when they pried back a chunk of stone, a split vein hissed blue vapor.
"By the flow," the miner muttered. "Kid's got good eyes."
Lucas blinked. "Eyes had nothing to do with it."
A faint chime flickered in his vision.
[Skill Leveled Up: Vein Sense → Lv. 2]
You now perceive directional energy flow and weak points in nearby conduits.
He smiled to himself. "Guess I'm getting a little less useless."
That evening, the team met at The Split Vein, the Holdfast's unofficial heart. The tavern had been carved directly into an old mining shaft, its walls lined with vein crystals that glowed faintly under the lamplight. The smell of roasted grain and smoke filled the air.
Ryn was already at the table when Lucas arrived. Barek followed soon after, his arm whirring as he plopped down two heavy mugs.
"To not dying horribly," he said.
"I'll drink to that," Ryn replied.
Lucas grinned. "You've got to raise the bar higher than 'not dying.'"
"I did," Barek said. "That's why I got a metal arm."
Laughter rippled through the table. Even Ira cracked a rare smile before raising her own glass. "To light in dark places."
They drank, the faint hum of conversation filling the tavern around them.
"You know," Ryn said, swirling the drink in her hand, "for the first time, the veins actually sound… quiet. Peaceful."
Lucas tilted his head, listening. "Peaceful's not the word I'd use. It's more like… waiting."
Barek raised a brow. "Waiting for what?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out."
From across the tavern, a voice spoke. "For the next hum, maybe."
Lucas turned. Jeff sat at a corner table, sketching something on a napkin — vein lines curling in intricate loops. He looked up and smiled like he'd been waiting for Lucas to notice.
"Mind if I join you?" Lucas asked.
"Do I ever mind?"
Lucas slid into the seat across from him. "So, are we just doodling, or is that a secret plan to blow something up?"
Jeff folded the napkin neatly. "Just listening to the hum."
Lucas frowned. "You can feel it too?"
Jeff nodded slowly. "It's changing. Faster. The rhythm's off."
"It's like the world's holding its breath," Lucas said quietly.
Jeff smiled faintly. "Or the Heart's learning to beat again."
Lucas blinked. "The Heart?"
Jeff's eyes twinkled, the way they did when he was about to dodge a real answer. "Don't worry about it. You'll figure it out when you're supposed to."
"You're terrible at small talk, you know that?"
Jeff grinned. "You're terrible at pretending you're not curious."
Later that night, Lucas walked alone through the upper corridors. The veins glowed steady blue — until they didn't.
Without warning, the light cut out. Every conduit, every lantern, every crystal — dark. The air went heavy, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears.
Then came a low hum, rising from the stone itself. Gold motes drifted down from the ceiling, swirling around him like dust caught in a sunbeam. The bracer on his wrist flared bright.
"Mender... not yet... the flow... breaking…"
The words weren't heard so much as felt, vibrating through his bones.
Lucas stumbled back, clutching his wrist. "No, no, not again—"
Then the light returned — too fast, too bright, washing the tunnel in a pale, trembling glow. His heart thundered in his chest. He exhaled shakily.
"Yeah," he muttered. "Totally normal. Just another Tuesday underground."
By the next morning, the whispers of last night's flicker had spread.
Teams were reporting odd tremors, unstable pulses in the lower veins. Ryn and Ira were already inspecting a stabilized chamber when Lucas found them.
The veins pulsed steadily — then faltered again.
The bracer on his wrist began to glow, syncing with the stutter in the light.
Ryn's expression tightened. "It's happening again."
Lucas pressed a hand to the wall. He felt it — a heartbeat, faint but growing stronger. The flow wasn't just unstable. It was alive.
"Not yet," he said. "But soon."
Before anyone could respond, Barek ran in from the adjoining corridor. "Small collapses in Sector Nine. Same signs as before the last cave-in."
"Damn it," Ryn muttered.
Then the air thickened. Golden motes began drifting down again. The veins shimmered with faint warmth. Lucas's senses flared — Vein Sense painting invisible trails through the air, all converging toward a single point deep below the Holdfast.
Then, the voice returned — louder this time, clear enough to make his knees buckle:
"The third bell tolls... again. The veins will break if the Heart sleeps."
He gasped, collapsing to one knee as the bracer burned against his skin.
Flashes of light filled his vision — a golden door, pulsing like a heartbeat, buried beneath endless stone.
Ryn knelt beside him. "Lucas! What's wrong?"
He gritted his teeth, trying to focus. "It's the bell. It's about to happen again."
"That's impossible," Ira said. "The veins are stable—"
"No. I can feel it."
His voice came out sharper than intended, but the look in his eyes silenced them. The veins around them pulsed again — slower, stronger, like an enormous heart testing its beat.
Ryn's voice trembled. "Then what do we do?"
Lucas pushed himself to his feet, breathing hard. "If it's starting again, I need to find where it's coming from."
Barek frowned. "You mean go down there again? After what happened last time?"
"Someone has to," Lucas said. "If the flow breaks again, this whole place goes with it."
He turned toward the tunnels that led down — the ones sealed after the last collapse. His bracer's glow steadied into a golden pulse.
Ryn grabbed his arm. "You're not going alone."
He managed a faint smile. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not. Apparently, the building's coming with me."
"You're insane," she said softly.
"Comes with the pajamas."
He stepped away, tightening the strap on his bracer.
The checkpoint gates loomed ahead, dark and half-buried in dust.
As he passed them, a familiar voice echoed from the shadows.
"You're hearing it too, huh?"
Lucas turned. Jeff stood near the edge of the light, calm as ever, his hands in his coat pockets.
"Yeah," Lucas said quietly. "It's calling again."
Jeff nodded once, eyes faintly reflecting gold. "Then I guess you'd better answer."
Lucas blinked — but when he looked again, Jeff was gone.
The tunnels ahead pulsed with golden light, the hum deep and slow, like something waking from a long sleep. Lucas exhaled, gripping his Reaper's Hook tighter.
"Alright, Heart," he murmured. "Let's see what you want from me this time."