The climb back up was longer than he remembered.
The tunnels stretched in silence, veins pulsing faintly gold along the stone walls — not chaotic or wild anymore, but slow, steady, calm.
Lucas's boots crunched over gravel as the air grew thinner and warmer, the scent of oil and iron replacing that sharp, electric tang of raw vein energy.
When he finally reached the upper levels, he was met with stunned silence.
Two guards by the checkpoint froze mid-conversation. One dropped his wrench; it clattered across the stone and echoed down the tunnel.
Lucas realized what they saw — his faintly glowing veins, the golden shimmer behind his eyes, the quiet hum radiating off his skin.
He raised a hand awkwardly. "Uh… I come in peace?"
The younger guard blinked twice. "You look like a saint and a hazard warning sign had a baby."
Lucas grinned weakly. "Yeah, feels about right."
A familiar voice cut through the air. "Lucas!"
Ryn sprinted down the passageway, followed by Ira and Barek. Her boots skidded against the stone as she stopped in front of him, eyes wide.
"Gods, you're alive," she breathed, grabbing his arm like she didn't trust her eyes. "We thought— we thought you—"
"Yeah," he said softly. "Me too."
For a moment, she just stared. His golden veins cast faint ripples of light over her dirt-streaked face. "You're glowing," she whispered.
Barek let out a low whistle. "Understatement of the year. You look like you swallowed the sun and forgot to burp it back out."
Lucas laughed, a little breathless. "Don't worry, no side effects. Unless you count mild nausea and existential dread."
Ira folded her arms, studying him closely. "The veins are quieter now," she said. "Stable. You did something down there, didn't you?"
Lucas hesitated, searching for the right words. "Let's just say… the Heart and I came to an understanding."
They exchanged looks — not disbelief exactly, but awe mixed with something heavier. None of them really knew what the Heart meant, but they could all feel the difference. The air in the Holdfast was lighter. The hum that had haunted the tunnels for weeks was gone.
Footsteps echoed behind them. Captain Vorn emerged from the corridor, her coat dusted with grit and her expression unreadable.
The miners straightened instinctively. She stopped in front of Lucas, eyes narrowing slightly as she took him in — the glow, the quiet pulse in the air, the faint energy thrumming through the stone around him.
"You came back," she said simply.
"Yeah," he replied. "It's done."
She studied him for a moment longer, then nodded once. "Then maybe we still have a future down here."
That was all. No ceremony, no speech — just quiet, grim gratitude from a woman who'd seen too much collapse to believe in luck anymore.
Lucas felt the weight of her words. A future. That was something the Holdfast hadn't had in a long time.
The group started walking back toward the main chamber. Ryn stayed close to him, still glancing sideways every few steps as if to make sure he didn't vanish again.
Ira moved ahead, murmuring small prayers of thanks to the veins.
Barek was muttering something about buying the first round of drinks "for the glowing idiot who fixed the Holdfast."
It almost felt normal again. Almost.
But when they reached the stairwell that led toward the habitation levels, Ryn stopped him with a quiet hand on his shoulder.
"Lucas," she said softly. "Where's Jeff?"
The question hit harder than he expected.
He looked at her — at her tired, hopeful eyes — and felt the truth claw at his throat.
"I don't know," he said finally. "He sort of disappeared."
Ryn's face fell. Ira stopped mid-step and turned. Barek's usual grin faded.
For a long moment, none of them spoke. The silence felt heavy, pressing down like the weight of the mountain itself.
Then, faintly, the veins along the wall pulsed — one slow, steady beat, gold threading briefly through the blue.
"He's not gone, though," Lucas said quietly. "I'm sure he'll find me when I need him."
Ryn wanted to say more, but stopped. Maybe she believed him — or maybe she saw something in his eyes that told her not to press.
They walked the rest of the way in silence.
When they reached the main plaza, the change was undeniable.
The veins that lined the Holdfast's great arches glowed with a soft, even light. The air no longer shimmered with instability.
For the first time since Lucas had arrived, the settlement looked alive — breathing, almost hopeful.
Children chased each other under the glowing conduits.
Miners sat with mugs of steaming brew, laughing without fear.
The whole Holdfast seemed to exhale — as though it, too, had survived something.
Lucas stopped and looked back toward the tunnels he'd just left.
Somewhere down there, the Heart still pulsed — quiet, constant, patient.
He reached up to touch his chest, feeling the echo of its rhythm beneath his own heartbeat.
Home. The word still lingered from the Heart's promise.
But as he looked around at the people, the lights, the fragile laughter, something inside him twisted.
Maybe this place wasn't home. But it needed him — and for now, that was enough.
He gave a small, lopsided smile. "Don't screw this up," he murmured to himself again.
The veins around him flickered softly, as if they'd heard.
The Split Vein was louder than usual that night.
Someone had spread the word that the mines were stable again, and by the time Lucas arrived with Ryn, Ira, and Barek, the place was packed — miners clinking mugs, shouting toasts, and laughing like they'd just stolen life back from the dark.
Lucas sat at their corner table, half-grinning as Barek retold his encounter with a cave-in boulder "the size of a house," exaggerating every gesture. Eventually, the attention turned to Lucas.
"So," Barek said, raising his mug, "how exactly does a guy in ducky pajamas kill a crowned wolf?"
Lucas groaned. "You know, I really wanted to keep that part quiet."
"Not happening," Ryn said, leaning forward, eyes bright. "Start from the part where it almost bit your head off."
"Fine," Lucas said, smirking. "Long story short: it growled, I panicked, we both screamed, and then I accidentally turned it into a light show."
The table roared with laughter. Even Ira cracked a rare smile.
When the laughter died down, Barek leaned back in his chair, watching Lucas more seriously now. "You know," he said, swirling the brew in his mug, "those channeling abilities of yours… they're not normal."
Lucas blinked. "That's the nicest way anyone's called me a freak so far."
Barek chuckled. "I mean it. You're immune to the aftereffects, right? The burns, the fever, the nerve damage?"
Lucas nodded slowly. "Yeah. I don't even scar anymore."
Ryn frowned, curious. "That's impossible. Every channeler I've met has marks — even minor exposure leaves traces."
"Exactly," Barek said, nodding toward her. "The Holdfast sends trained vein warriors to the surface sometimes — best of the best. Their strength makes them monsters compared to normal fighters. But the deeper they channel, the faster their bodies fall apart. None of them last long."
Lucas leaned forward, brow furrowed. "And you're saying I don't have that problem."
"I'm saying," Barek said, grinning faintly, "you're untrained, half-insane, and somehow walking around with more power than anyone I've met. If you ever decided to actually train with that hook of yours, you could be dangerous."
Lucas blinked. "Dangerous how?"
"Dangerous enough," Barek said, clinking his mug against Lucas's, "that even the Heart would think twice before arguing with you."
That got another round of laughter, though Lucas didn't join in right away. He stared into his drink for a moment, thoughtful, hearing the faint hum of the veins beneath the floor. Dangerous. The word didn't sit comfortably — but it felt true.
After a few hours, the crowd began to thin. The warmth of the tavern gave way to the cool hush of the sleeping Holdfast.
Lucas said his goodbyes, promising Barek that next time he'd buy the drinks, and made his way down the quiet halls toward the dormitory.
The corridor lights dimmed as he reached his room — the same one he used to share with Jeff.
The lantern light spilled across the empty bunk, the half-folded blanket, and the chipped mug still sitting on the table. Everything looked the same. Everything except the air — it hummed faintly with residual warmth.
He sighed, sitting on his bed. "You really just vanished, huh?"
Something glinted on the other cot. He frowned and leaned closer.
There, lying neatly where Jeff's pillow used to be, was the old harmonica — the one Jeff always played when he was bored or thoughtful.
It glowed faintly gold, pulsing once like a quiet heartbeat.
Lucas picked it up carefully, feeling the faint hum vibrate through his fingertips. "Guess you didn't leave empty-handed after all."
A faint chime echoed in his vision.
[Item Acquired: Jeff's Harmonica]
Description: A well-worn instrument carried by someone who understood far more than he let on.
Its surface is warm to the touch, resonating faintly as if aware of being held.
Status: Dormant. Functionality: Unknown.
Observation: The item displays signs of low-level awareness. Connection source: undetermined.
Lucas blinked. "Awareness? What, like it's alive?"
Another line flickered.
[Explain It Like I'm 5 Activated]
It's kind of like a walkie-talkie, but made of music. If you miss someone hard enough, it might hum back — but only if they miss you too.
Lucas stared at it for a moment, then huffed a quiet laugh. "A walkie-talkie powered by feelings. Perfect. That's totally normal."
He smiled, turning the harmonica over in his hand before tucking it into his jacket pocket beside the gold fragment from the Crowned Wolf.
"See you around, old man."
The harmonica pulsed one last time, then went still — warm, waiting.
Outside, the Holdfast slept under the glow of the veins, unaware that its newest protector, or mender, was already thinking about the world above.