They reached the basin where the camp’s little world shook hands with the larger one. Smoke from the heaters went up straight for ten feet before the wind remembered it had a job and took over. A drone brought in a box and set it down like a person who’d never dropped a thing in its life. For once the generator coughed and didn’t make anyone flinch. Feris had wedged herself in the tent doorway with a rope looped around her waist and knotted twice to the center pole so she could "lean" like a normal body. She still hovered. When she saw them, her mouth tightened, then relaxed. She took in the cuts, the way Arashi guarded his arm, the way Lynea’s fragments hung quiet. She went for humor anyway. "If you brought me souvenirs, they’d better not sparkle" she said. "Just scars" Arashi told her. "I can tape glow sticks to them later." "Pass" Feris said. "I’m allergic to girly-shiny aesthetics." Hikari sat near a heater, wrapped in a coat so big it made her look like the idea of warmth had given up and decided to be a blanket. She lifted her eyes when Raizen came near and took him in without hurrying. "You’re late" she said. "We got distracted by the scenery" he said, trying hard to smile. The corner of her mouth moved a millimeter. He sank onto a crate. The crate accepted him like it had been saving up for the moment. His arms finally reported in about the part where they had done too much. He let the ache be a fact, not a note to argue with. "Report" Alteea said in his ear. He told her the small and the big, in that order. The seal that wasn’t a collapse. The chamber that had come back louder in color but quiet in sound. The shards that couldn’t decide whether gravity was interesting. The way the air outside felt like a cleared throat. "Copy" she said. Her voice had put its control back on like a coat. "Hold perimeter. Keep your people still tonight. We are done chasing a thing that keeps changing its mind." Kori cut in a second later, same decision, more teeth. "Nobody wanders. I find one more ’curiosity lap’ on my logs I’ll make you polish the inside of my coffee pot with your toothbrush. And yes, I know you think that’s not possible." Feris made a show of crossing her arms in midair and forgetting the arms didn’t have anything to cross against. She scowled at the physics instead, which didn’t help but entertained everyone who could see her. Obi, who had clearly just woken, wandered out of his tent with hair performing crimes against symmetry and squinted around like light had personally wronged him. "Everyone alive?" he asked. "Define alive" Lynea said, and dabbed at her cuts with the handkerchief the kid had given her. Red marked the fabric in small, neat lines. It looked like a map that refused to say where it led. "Arashi" Raizen said, nodding at the rolled scarf bound to the man’s forearm. Arashi raised his good hand like a student owning up to having set the lab on fire. "Present. Functional. Handsome." "Two of those three" Raizen said. He checked his blades without thinking - habit, prayer, apology. The edges were clean, the weight of them familiar and stubborn and sane. He slid them home. The motion steadied the part of him that had spent the morning being asked to believe in beautiful things at bad times. Lynea’s fragments settled one by one into the little leather pocket sewn into her sleeve. The last one hung out halfway, like a sleepy dog refusing to get off a couch. She tapped it. It tucked itself in with wounded dignity. "Pain?" Hikari asked her. "Enough" Lynea said. "Not too much." Then, because Hikari’s eyebrow moved in a way that had been categorized as "try that answer again" she added, "It stings." "I can manage sting" Hikari said. "I have a tea for sting." "You have a tea for everything" Arashi said. "Correct" she said, and sipped hers. The rest of the day happened in small pieces. Another miner team checked the outer markers, re-taped the "TURN BACK" sign because it made them feel like they had done something, then had the decency to stop pretending it would matter. The other workers moved like men who knew how to do their jobs even when the mountain gave them an attitude. A drone took multiple loops in the air before finally settling. Evening came earlier than it should have. It always did up here. The light that was nobody’s favorite - gray that goes to thinner gray - slid down the ridge. The heaters made the tents into small houses pretending very hard. Dinner had the same taste as last night and the night before it, but that taste was merciful because it meant "alive." When Alteea spoke again, she was so level you could have used her voice as a table. "Winds are holding. No new readings. If you hear anything that sounds like an opinion, it’s the generator. It’s allowed to have opinions. You are not." "Copy" Raizen said, and someone nearby snorted. He let the camp’s noises wrap around his head - the scrape of a spoon, the rude laugh that died into a cough, the murmur of two wardens swapping ghost stories like that would trick their brains into storing fear in a better folder. He watched his breath fog and un-fog. It felt like punctuation between Chapters, not relief. Feris drifted an inch lower. "Progress" she declared. "Proud of you" Obi said. "Try not to roll under the cot at two a.m." "If I do" she said, "leave me there. It’s where I belong." Hikari set her cup down and closed her eyes a moment, just long enough for the world to get three degrees quieter. When she opened them, she caught Raizen looking. He didn’t look away. Nobody was owed that privacy here anymore. She didn’t frown. She didn’t smile. She just made a very small nod that meant "I see you seeing and I’m not changing the fact of it." Later, when the lamps had been turned down and the ridge had put on the sound it wore when it wanted to be forgotten, Raizen sat with his back to a crate at the edge of the ring and let his head run inventory on nothing: the strip of gold he’d seen flash in Nyx ash; the warmth that lingered in stone deeper than sunlight; the way the crystals had decided to be pretty in color and quiet in voice. Obi flopped down beside him, boots too close to the line where dark begins. "So" he said. "Are we telling Feris about the cave being gorgeous again or are we keeping that a secret until she stops floating and therefore loses the moral high ground?" "We are absolutely not telling Feris" Raizen said. "Alright" Obi said. "Also, did you see the one miner kid? His dad brought him here to work. I think... He’s a Graver?" "Gravers... What were they, again?" Raizen asked, "exactly." "Basically people that fight Nyxes on their own. Kind of like hired fighters." Obi said. "But more badass. And... With less valuable lives." Raizen didn’t smile. The feeling that wanted to be a smile didn’t quite get through the door. He looked out at the line where the lamps gave up and let the mountain take over. He let the dark be dark. He tried not to want an answer from it. At last, he said the smaller truth. "Finally." ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ 𝖓𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑~𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖾~𝖓𝖊𝖙 The word softened as it left his mouth and went somewhere that kept it. Above them, the sky remembered it had stars but kept them for later. Behind a face of rock up-slope, a roomful of Luminite kept its light to itself. It had chosen, for now, to be a church without hymns. And the night, which had learned to be quiet, stayed that way - long enough to make you think it might last.