The chamber enveloped Elias Varn like a suffocating shroud, the air thick with a stale, metallic tang that coated his tongue, sharp and bitter like rusted copper. His boots scraped across a jagged floor, shards of broken stone and twisted metal grinding beneath, the sound a harsh, uneven rasp that clawed at his ears. His jacket clung to him, heavy with damp, the frayed fabric chafing his skin like a frozen chain. The notebook trembled in his hands, its pages bloated and stained, Rory's handwriting a ghostly murmur under his grip—he held it like a fading heartbeat, the only warmth in the dark. Without his glasses, the shadows twisted into a distorted blur, but his eyes blazed with a glow that cut through, the ember in his chest surging—hot, relentless, a flame that defied the void, stoked by Rory's voice and a will that refused to break. The Beneath's resonance vibrated through the walls, a haunting, fragmented hum that echoed in his skull, the stone trembling like it was whispering back.
Lena slumped against a bent steel beam, her breath a quick, uneven pant, denim shredded at the edges and soaked through. Her dark hair hung in wet clumps, and the emerald shard in her hand flared green—dim but sharp, scattering light across her bruised wrists. She rubbed her neck, grimacing. "Elias, that violet pulse—it's morphed again. It's an echo now, shattered, bouncing back at us like a scream that won't die."
Cal leaned on his staff, its tip scraping the stone, his leather coat creaking as he drew a shaky breath. His face was etched with exhaustion, gray hair plastered to his forehead, but his orange glow flickered like a candle in a storm. "She's got it right. It's not a wave—it's a reverberation, hitting my spark like a ricochet, over and over."
Mara stood tall, gray cloak swaying in the damp air, her staff casting a purple light like a bruised sky. Her silver hair caught the faint glow, and her scarred face was set, eyes glinting with memory. "It's a resonance—broken, haunting. I've heard this before, when they used echoes to drive us mad, left us jumping at shadows. It's not striking—it's lingering."
Tuck crouched by a pile of shattered rock, flannel clinging to his frame, his knife glowing green like a restless flame. Dust streaked his beard, hazel eyes burning. "It's a ghost—fractured, endless. You swing, and it comes back, whispering in your ear."
Ruth stood firm, overalls dripping, her hammer casting green light like a steady glow. Her brown hair clung to her cheeks, dark eyes fierce. "Elias, it's a shadow—echoing, relentless. It's not just fighting us; it's haunting us."
Jace fidgeted by a beam, canvas jacket snapping, wrench glowing orange in his unsteady hands. Sandy hair shadowed gray eyes, voice tight. "It's a bounce—sharp, unending. You hit it, and it's already ringing back."
Vara held her stance, black clothes sodden, cane casting purple light like a flickering storm. Her raven hair framed pale, piercing eyes. "A reverberation—cracked, cruel. It's not fading—it's multiplying."
Gav loomed forward, khaki dripping, pickaxe glowing green in his thick hands. Sweat streaked his bald head, brown eyes burning. "A hum—split and mean. It's like a voice that won't shut up, taunting us."
Nora gripped a rusted pipe, denim frayed, crowbar casting orange light like a sparking flame. Red hair framed blue eyes that flared. "Elias, it's a wail—broken, endless. It's hitting us, and it won't stop ringing."
Silas stood steady, brown coat dripping, rod glowing purple in his slender hands. Gray hair framed green eyes that held a quiet fire. "A murmur—chaotic, persistent. It's not loud—it's insidious, wearing us down."
Elise braced herself, gray outfit soaked, mallet casting green light like a restless tide. Blonde hair clung to her face, hazel eyes sharp. "It's a drone, Elias—shattered and fierce. We're swinging, and it's echoing back at us."
Rex leaned against a pipe, orange jacket creaking, pipe casting amber light in his lean grip. Black hair shadowed brown eyes that glinted. "A whisper—wild and quick. You strike, and it's already bouncing back."
Lila swayed, purple cloak heavy, staff casting violet light like a stuttering glow. White hair framed gray eyes that shimmered. "A sigh—unstable, haunting. It's not attacking—it's lingering, draining us."
Finn crouched by a rusted valve, green clothes dripping, hatchet glowing emerald in his wiry hands. Sweat streaked his buzzed head, gray eyes fierce. "A chant—off-kilter, savage. You move, and it's already echoing."
Tara pressed forward, orange jacket snapping, wrench casting amber light in her grip. Brown hair plastered her face, hazel eyes blazing. "Elias, it's a moan—ragged and alive. We're hitting it, and it's ringing back louder."
Kade stood tense, purple clothes soaked, baton casting violet light like a live spark. Black hair framed blue eyes that sparked. "A toll—shifting, vicious. It's not steady—it's mocking us."
Rhea planted herself, stocky frame steady, green clothes dripping, crowbar casting emerald light. Red hair framed brown eyes that burned. "A groan—crude and fast. We're swinging, and it's echoing in our bones."
Holt squared up, orange clothes sodden, hammer casting amber light in his broad grip. Blond hair framed gray eyes that flared. "A hum—raw and quick. You hit it, and it's already ringing back."
Sable stood taut, purple clothes dripping, rod casting violet light like a jagged flare. Gray hair framed brown eyes that burned. "A drone—twisted, alive. It's not breaking—it's haunting us."
Dane leaned forward, green clothes soaked, pickaxe casting emerald light in his lean hands. Brown hair framed blue eyes that sparked. "A buzz—sharp and wild. You strike, and it's already echoing."
Mira braced herself, orange clothes dripping, mallet casting amber light in her stocky grip. Black hair framed gray eyes that burned. "A wail—rough and quick. We're pounding it, and it's wailing back."
Zane stood wiry, purple clothes sodden, staff casting violet light like a restless spark. Red hair framed green eyes that flared. "A cry—messy and fierce. It's not holding—it's echoing."
Cora loomed broad, green clothes dripping, hammer casting emerald light in her grip. Blonde hair framed brown eyes that smoldered. "Elias, it's a damn scream—jagged and brutal. We're up against it, and it's screaming back."
Nash shifted forward, orange clothes soaked, wrench casting amber light in his lean grip. Black hair framed brown eyes that sparked. "A howl—fast and cruel. You swing, and it's already echoing louder."
Isla stood lean, purple clothes dripping, baton casting violet light like a snapping thread. Brown hair framed gray eyes that flared. "A shriek—alive and vicious. It's not standing still—it's ringing in our ears."
Reid planted his feet, green clothes sodden, crowbar casting emerald light in his stocky grip. Gray hair framed hazel eyes that burned. "A roar—unsteady, mean. It's hitting us, and it won't stop echoing."
Sage stood wiry, orange clothes dripping, pipe casting amber light in her grip. Red hair framed green eyes that flared. "A bellow—shattered, fierce. It's not fading—it's coming back at us."
Elias's chest roared, the ember surging, and he unleashed a pulse—a fierce, searing wave that crashed into their glows, green, orange, purple flaring like a chaotic storm. "Then we don't let it haunt us," he said, voice hoarse but rising, the Shroud's whisper clawing his mind: "You hold them—I hold you." His eyes burned, a vision slashing through the murk—faint lights pulsing in the black, purple, green, orange, a fractured web of sparks screaming beyond the stone, battered by violet shadows that echoed and lingered. "We drown it out, burn brighter, find the rest—together."
Lena flashed a grim smile, shard flaring green as she leaned closer. "Drown it out? You got enough fire to silence that scream, Beacon?"
His throat seized, the ember throbbing as Rory's voice snarled: "Kick their ass—for me." He forced a pulse inward, a trembling wave brushing the gold that lingered—Rory's grin flickering like a beacon he'd fight to hold. "We burn as one," he growled, eyes stinging as the ember steadied, a heat he molded fierce. "The Shroud's ours, not its." He turned to the tunnels, the ember yanking him—those distant pulses buzzing in his bones, the scattered out there, clawing through the echoes.
Sage stepped forward, pipe tapping the stone, orange flaring sharp. "North," she rasped, pointing at a tunnel—its mouth gaping and slick, black water dripping like a fractured vein. "Felt a spark—purple, faint but steady. It's right there, waiting." Her green eyes locked on Elias's, wiry trust cutting through the chaos. "You leading this charge, Beacon?"
Mara shifted, purple steady, voice a low growl. "They're close. Violet's buzzing—sharp and uneven."
Elias's pulse hammered, the ember a heat he gripped, and he strode toward the tunnel, his crew surging behind—Lena's quick smirk, Cal's rough wheeze, Mara's iron stare, Tuck's silent rage, Ruth's steady mass, Jace's jittery spark, Vara's cold focus, Gav's brute force, Nora's blazing edge, Silas's quiet steel, Elise's firm resolve, Rex's lean bite, Lila's frail defiance, Finn's wiry snap, Tara's fierce glare, Kade's taut precision, Rhea's solid fire, Holt's broad strength, Sable's wiry flare, Dane's lean grit, Mira's stocky heat, Zane's quick spark, Cora's broad power, Nash's lean drive, Isla's sharp edge, Reid's stocky resolve, and Sage's wiry fire. "Then we shout louder," he said, voice raw but climbing, boots pounding the stone.
The tunnel snaked north, air frigid and thick, walls slick and uneven, water dripping in erratic plinks that clashed with the thud in Elias's chest. It spat them into a chamber—sprawling and rough, walls slick with moisture, floor a tangle of rusted pipes and splintered wood, the air heavy with damp iron and rot. A faint pulse thrummed—purple, deep and restless, and Elias's ember flared, his eyes blazing as he threw a wave—swift, fierce, tearing the dark like a claw.
A figure stepped out—not hesitant, but bold, clad in faded purple, a man with a lean frame and a stance that dared the world to strike. Purple glow pulsed from his hands, a rod glowing violet in his grip. "Beacon," he said, voice deep and rough, closing the gap as his glow synced with Elias's, purple flaring bright and alive. "Caught your fire through the stone." Dust streaked his short, black hair, and his blue eyes sparked, a fire kicking up as he planted his feet, breath steady.
Elias's chest tightened, the ember pulsing as the Shroud muttered: "He wakes with you." He shoved a warm wave toward him, purple flaring brighter, a spark binding them. "You're with us," he said, voice raw but firm, stepping closer. "The scattered—we're breaking through."
Lena edged in, green flaring as she cracked a weary grin. "Purple again? We're a damn storm now." The crew spread out—Cal, Mara, Tuck, Ruth, Jace, Vara, Gav, Nora, Silas, Elise, Rex, Lila, Finn, Tara, Kade, Rhea, Holt, Sable, Dane, Mira, Zane, Cora, Nash, Isla, Reid, and Sage—orange, purple, green pulsing steady, a jagged line ready to strike.
The man's jaw twitched, a quick grin breaking his edge. "Name's Theo," he rasped, gripping the rod, purple glowing firm. "Woke weeks back, purple light, deep in the shafts. Fought 'em off, barely." He nodded at the pipes, slick and glinting. "Felt you—blazing, dragging us out." His blue eyes met Elias's, sharp with lean fire. "They're here—closing fast."
Elias's gut dropped, the ember surging as the Shroud's vision hit—violet shadows, an echo lingering. "The Order," he said, pulse steady in his hands. "They're throwing violet—hitting us with broken echoes." He nudged a pulse toward the rod—blue and purple clashing, sparking alive, a bond ignited.
Before Theo could respond, the chamber shuddered—a shattered echo tearing through the air, rumbling from the tunnel like a beast clawing free. Elias's ember roared, his eyes blazing as he spun, throwing a wave—swift, shaped, ripping the dark like a fang. A violet-helmed figure emerged—not alone, but with twenty-seven more, their armor sleek and pulsing, staffs crackling with violet energy, a shattered violet echo surging around them, tendrils of light snapping out, sharp and ravenous, visors glowing deep and deadly.
"Beacon," the lead figure snarled, voice a mechanical rasp over the echo, staff raised high. "The Silence echoes—the scattered fade!" It pulsed, violet ripping through—a wave slamming Elias back, locking his arms, dimming the ember, pipes clanging like a snapped spine.
Elias's chest burned, the ember surging—a heat he unleashed, a pulse breaking free, blue and gold crashing into violet, sparking wild. It gouged the lead figure's armor, but the echo lingered, violet flaring—a wave shattering his pulse, hurling him beside Theo, the ember stuttering. Lena lunged, green blazing—a wave slashing the figures, snapping a staff, but a second pulsed, violet throwing her against the wall, dust bursting as she cursed.
"Drown it!" Cal roared, orange flaring as he swung his staff, a wave smashing violet, scarring a helm, but a third figure pulsed, violet slamming him down, his glow fading. Mara struck, purple blazing—a wave slicing violet, gashing armor, but it pulsed back, violet knocking her flat, her staff clattering. Tuck surged, green roaring—his knife wave tearing violet, nicking a visor, but it pulsed, violet hurling him beside Elias, his glow dimming. The crew charged—Ruth's hammer, Jace's wrench, Vara's cane, Gav's pickaxe, Nora's crowbar, Silas's rod, Elise's mallet, Rex's pipe, Lila's staff, Finn's hatchet, Tara's wrench, Kade's baton, Rhea's crowbar, Holt's hammer, Sable's rod, Dane's pickaxe, Mira's mallet, Zane's staff, Cora's hammer, Nash's wrench, Isla's baton, Reid's crowbar, Sage's pipe, Theo's rod—green, orange, purple blazing, waves slashing, gouging violet, but each pulse echoed back, throwing them back, glows flickering.
Elias's eyes flared, the ember roaring—a heat he shaped, merging with their glows in a torrent—blue, gold, emerald, amber, violet tearing into the figures, gashing helms, driving them back. The chamber quaked, violet sparking, and the echo snarled, violet twisting—a wave smashing the torrent, locking Elias's glow, hurling him beside his crew, pipes snapping like bones.
"You shout—only to fade," it snarled, staff raised, violet flaring—a wave flooding the chamber, dimming their sparks, tendrils snapping toward Elias, cold and ravenous, an echo slashing his ember.
A gold flare erupted—not blue, but Rory's echo, fierce and wild, bursting from Elias's chest—a wave smashing the figure back, snapping its staff, sparking alive. His breath caught, the ember flaring as Rory's voice roared: "Kick their ass—for me." The gold surged, fusing with his pulse—blue and gold, green, orange, purple blazing faint, a torrent ripping into violet, gashing staffs, tearing the echo, driving the figures back into the tunnel, violet flickering out.
Elias hauled himself up, the ember pulsing—a rough wave brushing their glows, green, orange, purple flaring faint but kicking. "We—we silenced it," he rasped, dragging them up, notebook clutched tight as Rory's echo growled: "You're enough."
Theo gripped his rod, purple steadying, a spark clawing back. "Silenced it—damn near didn't. That echo's a ghost that won't die."
Elias's eyes glowed, the ember a heat he wrestled, the Shroud's voice a low rumble: "You hold them—I hold you." "Then we keep shouting," he said, voice raw but steady, boots planted. "We find the rest—together."
The mines sprawled dark and fractured, the Order's violet echo lingering, but the spark burned—a flame of defiance kicking, a fight clawing to breathe. And out there, the next pulse thrummed.