The land purchase closed three days ahead of schedule.
The lawyer called with the news while I was elbow-deep in seed catalogs at the kitchen table, cross-referencing Dr. Okoye's recommendations with my own memories of what had grown best in Mist-altered soil.
"Congratulations, Ms. Shen," she said. "You are now the proud owner of approximately forty-seven hectares of rural wilderness, one condemned farmhouse, and what appears to be an extensive network of unmapped mining tunnels."
"Unmapped?" I asked, though I already knew.
"The county records are… incomplete," she said diplomatically. "The mines were abandoned decades ago. There may be more down there than the surveys indicate. I'd recommend a professional assessment before you do anything ambitious."
"Already on my list," I said.
After we hung up, I sat for a moment, letting it sink in.
Mine.
The land was mine.
In my first life, I'd claimed territory through blood and desperation, fighting off other survivors who wanted what we'd built. This time, I'd used paperwork and money—the old world's weapons.
But ownership meant nothing without preparation.
I called Liang.
"The deal's done," I said. "How soon can you get a surveyor out there?"
"I know a guy," he said. "Old-timer, used to work the mines before they shut down. He's not certified anymore, but he knows those tunnels better than anyone alive."
"Perfect. Tomorrow?"
A pause.
"You're not messing around, are you?" he said.
"No," I said. "I'm not."
The surveyor's name was Old Chen.
He was seventy-three, wiry as a tree root, with hands like leather and eyes that had seen too much darkness underground. He showed up at the property in a battered truck, carrying a headlamp, a pickaxe, and a hand-drawn map so old the paper had gone soft.
"You the city woman buying this place?" he asked, squinting at me.
"That's me."
He grunted, looking around at the overgrown land, the collapsed farmhouse, the distant gleam of the river.
"Good bones," he said finally. "Bad history. The mines took seventeen men before they shut down. Cave-ins, gas pockets, flooding. You sure you want to poke around down there?"
"I need to know what I'm working with," I said. "Safe passages, unstable sections, connections to the surface. All of it."
He studied me for a long moment.
"Most folks want to seal the tunnels and forget about them," he said.
"I'm not most folks."
Another grunt—this one almost approving.
"Alright," he said. "Let's see what the mountain remembers."
The main tunnel entrance was hidden behind a thicket of wild brambles, the wooden support beams weathered but intact.
Old Chen led the way, headlamp cutting through the darkness. Liang followed with a high-powered flashlight. I brought up the rear, senses straining.
The air changed the moment we crossed the threshold—cooler, damper, carrying a mineral smell that prickled my sinuses.
The System pulsed.
[SUBTERRANEAN ENVIRONMENT DETECTED]
[BASE QUEST: MAP THE ROOTS]
OBJECTIVE:
– Survey primary tunnel network
– Identify safe passages, unstable zones, and strategic access points
– Seal or mark hazardous sections
REWARD:
– +40 Survival Points
– Tunnel Network Integration (Base Module)
PROGRESS: 0%
The first hundred meters were relatively stable—old rail tracks still visible in the floor, support beams holding despite decades of neglect.
Old Chen pointed out features as we walked: ventilation shafts, drainage channels, side passages that led to abandoned ore veins.
"This was the main artery," he said. "Went down about three hundred meters before the big collapse in '87. Everything below that is flooded or crushed."
"What about horizontal branches?" I asked. "Connections to other exits?"
He consulted his ancient map.
"Two confirmed exits besides this one," he said. "One near the river—used to use it for water drainage. One up the hill, behind the old foreman's cabin. Both should still be passable, but I haven't checked in years."
"Show me."
We spent three hours underground.
The tunnels were a maze—some passages wide enough for carts, others barely shoulder-width. Old Chen marked stable sections with chalk, scratched warnings over unstable ones.
The System updated my mental map in real-time, overlaying his knowledge with structural assessments I didn't fully understand but trusted instinctively.
[TUNNEL NETWORK – MAPPING PROGRESS: 47%]
We found the river exit first—a low opening concealed by overgrown reeds, barely visible from the outside. Water trickled through a carved channel, old but functional.
"Good for water access," Liang murmured. "Bad for defense. Anyone could swim in."
"We'll gate it," I said. "Steel bars, underwater. Lets water through, not people."
He nodded, making a note.
The hillside exit was better—a narrow opening behind a tumble of boulders, nearly invisible unless you knew where to look. It opened onto a ridge with a clear view of the valley below.
"Escape route," I said quietly. "Or ambush point."
Old Chen gave me a strange look.
"You talk like someone expecting a war," he said.
"I talk like someone who believes in options," I said.
We were on our way back through the main tunnel when it happened.
The floor trembled.
Not much—just a faint vibration, like a truck passing on a distant road. But in the confined space, it felt enormous.
Old Chen froze.
"Everyone stop," he said sharply.
We stopped.
Silence.
Then, from somewhere ahead, a soft groaning sound—rock shifting against rock.
And in that moment, the world flickered.
I was somewhere else.
Still in the tunnel, but—different. The air was thicker, tinged with something acrid. My headlamp was dead. Liang's flashlight was dead. The only light came from a faint, sickly green glow seeping through cracks in the ceiling.
Old Chen was gone.
Liang was beside me, but his face was wrong—pale, streaked with blood, eyes wide with animal terror.
"Run," he gasped. "It's coming down—"
A roar from above.
I looked up.
The ceiling was collapsing.
Tons of rock, falling in slow motion, directly toward us. I could see individual stones, could count the cracks spreading like lightning through the support beams.
We were going to die.
We were going to—
I snapped back.
The tunnel was stable. The ceiling was intact. Liang was looking at me with concern, not terror.
"Evie?" he said. "You okay? You went pale."
Three seconds.
That vision had lasted maybe three seconds.
But I knew—with a certainty that went beyond logic—that it was real. Or would be, if we kept going.
The System confirmed it.
[TEMPORAL ECHO – PROTO-ACTIVATION]
TRIGGER: Imminent mortal danger
DURATION: 3.2 seconds of future-state perception
ACCURACY: ~87%
WARNING: Significant mental fatigue. Cooldown required.
[TEMPORAL ECHO AWAKENING: 10% → 18%]
I grabbed Liang's arm.
"We need to go back," I said. "Now. Different route."
He frowned.
"What? We're almost—"
"The ceiling ahead is unstable," I cut in. "I felt something. Vibration patterns. Trust me."
Old Chen was already nodding slowly.
"She's right," he said. "That tremor… felt like a warning. The ground remembers, even if the surveys don't. There's a side passage back about fifty meters—goes around this section. Takes longer, but it's older, more settled."
Liang hesitated, then shrugged.
"You're the boss," he said.
We turned back.
As we passed the junction, I heard it—a soft, distant rumble from the direction we'd been heading. The sound of rock finding new arrangements.
Old Chen crossed himself.
"Good instincts," he said quietly.
I didn't answer.
My head was pounding, a dull ache spreading behind my eyes. The System's warning about mental fatigue was no joke.
But we were alive.
And I now knew, for certain, that my third power was real.
Temporal Echo.
Glimpses of futures that would kill me.
It wasn't reliable. It wasn't controllable. It came at a cost.
But it was there, waiting, a seed of foresight buried in my mind.
By the time we emerged into the afternoon light, my headache had faded to a manageable throb.
Old Chen handed me his chalk-marked map.
"You've got good bones down there," he said. "And bad sections. I've marked what I know. The rest…" He shrugged. "The mountain keeps her secrets."
"Thank you," I said. "Can I hire you for more surveys? As we clear and stabilize?"
He considered.
"My knees aren't what they were," he said. "But for someone who listens to the ground… I can make time."
We shook hands.
As he drove away, Liang stood beside me, looking at the tunnel entrance.
"You really felt that, huh?" he said. "The instability."
"I really did."
He shook his head slowly.
"My grandmother used to say some people are born with the earth's ear," he said. "I always thought it was superstition."
"Maybe it is," I said. "Or maybe some superstitions are just things we haven't learned to measure yet."
He laughed.
"You're a strange client, Ms. Shen," he said. "But I like working for you."
"Good," I said. "Because we have a lot more work to do."
The System chimed.
[BASE QUEST: MAP THE ROOTS – PROGRESS: 58%]
[TUNNEL NETWORK INTEGRATION: PARTIAL]
– Main artery: MAPPED
– River exit: LOCATED
– Hillside exit: LOCATED
– Unstable sections: FLAGGED (3)
– Deep sections: UNEXPLORED
[+25 SURVIVAL POINTS]
SP: 170
I looked at the valley spread before me—the half-built structures, the planted grove, the river glinting in the distance.
Last Light Valley was taking shape.
And beneath it, hidden from the world, a network of tunnels waited to become escape routes, storage vaults, and—if necessary—tombs for anyone foolish enough to invade.
Sixty-five days until the Mist.
The bones were growing.