The bell tolled again.
A deep, hollow note that rolled through the metal veins of the Undercity and stirred the sleepers from their dreams. Pipes shuddered. Dust drifted from the ceilings like slow rain. The same sound every morning, every cycle, every life.
Luke's eyes opened to the dim shimmer of the Nova's filtered light bleeding through the grates above him. It flickered softly, pale gold against the dark. The light never reached here whole—just reflections of Heaven's mercy, diluted by miles of stone and machinery. Still, the people below called it divine.
He swung his legs off the cot, boots thudding against the floor. "Morning shift," he muttered.
From the next bunk over came a muffled groan. "No. Dream shift. Go away."
Luke smirked. "You keep dreaming and Reina's gonna have your head on a hook."
That earned a grunt. Elias sat up, hair matted with grease and sleep. The young man's pale eyes caught the flicker of the light. "Reina can shove her clipboard down the vent."
"Yeah? Tell her that. I'll bring flowers to your grave."
Luke tossed him a dented water can. Elias caught it with both hands and drank greedily, the motion shaking the metal chains that held their bunks in place. Around them, other miners stirred—men and women of the lower rings, half-awake, half-alive.
"You ever notice," Elias said between gulps, "how the bell sounds different every week?"
"It's just old," Luke replied, pulling on his gloves. "Like everything down here."
"Maybe it's dying."
"Everything dies down here."
That made Elias laugh, dry and tired. "What an optimist."
---
The corridor outside was narrow and hot. Steam hissed from rusted pipes, clouding the passage in shifting white mist. The smell of oil and ash clung to everything. Dozens of workers trudged past, heads bowed, tools slung over their shoulders. The ceiling hung so low some had to duck as they walked.
A voice echoed from a speaker overhead.
"Glory to the Nova. Work is virtue. Labor is worship."
Luke barely listened. The voice had played since before he was born.
They moved with the current, boots thumping in rhythm, until the corridor opened into the main shaft. A vast chasm split the earth here—walls lined with scaffolds, rail tracks, and cables that vanished into the darkness below. A dull red glow pulsed from the mines beneath, where molten veins of energy throbbed like the heart of some buried god.
Luke and Elias stopped at the edge, waiting for the lift to rise. Above them, painted across the rock face, loomed an ancient mural: twelve armored figures standing before a radiant sun. The Twelve Knights of the Radiant Order. Their halos were fading, the colors half-eaten by time, but their eyes still burned bright.
Elias stared up at them. "They say the Knights once walked these tunnels before Heaven rose."
Luke shrugged. "They say a lot of things."
"You don't believe it?"
"I believe they never had to dig."
Elias smiled faintly. "You're hopeless."
---
The lift arrived with a screech. A crowd of miners shuffled aboard, packed tight like cargo. Reina Voss stood at the control post, her coat too clean for the Undercity, her expression sharp as the edge of a blade. She scanned the workers one by one with a cracked data lens, her lips moving without emotion.
"Sector C, you're late," she said.
The miners obeyed instantly. When she reached Luke and Elias, she paused.
"Late again," she said, tapping her clipboard.
"Actually," Luke said with his best grin, "we're early compared to tomorrow."
Her eyes narrowed. "That supposed to be funny?"
"Not really, Overseer. I ran out of jokes last week."
The line of workers tried to hide their laughter. Reina exhaled through her nose and shook her head. "You think you're clever."
"I think I'm still employed."
"Barely. Get inside before I change my mind."
Luke saluted with mock precision and stepped onto the platform. Elias followed, grinning.
---
The lift rattled as it descended, the sound of chains grinding against old steel filling the air. The world above shrank into a pinprick of light. Below, the mines waited—vast and burning.
Luke leaned against the railing, eyes tracing the glowing blue veins that ran through the walls. "You ever wonder," he said quietly, "if that light really comes from the Nova?"
Elias tilted his head. "What else would it be?"
"Maybe it's not Heaven's light. Maybe it's the earth bleeding."
Elias gave a low whistle. "You should stop saying things like that. Someone'll report you for blasphemy."
"Then I'll tell them I was joking."
"Are you?"
Luke didn't answer. The lift shuddered to a stop.
The air hit them like a furnace. Heat and metal and dust. The tunnels glowed faintly with veins of blue energy running through the rock. Sparks flew from drills. Machinery roared. It was chaos organized by routine.
Reina's voice rang over the noise. "Teams A through D, to your sectors. The rest, standby for rotation. And no talking about the vines thinning. That's rumor. Got it?"
The crowd murmured acknowledgment.
Elias nudged Luke. "You hear that? No talking."
Luke smirked. "Good thing I'm not much of a listener."
They took their places near the drilling site. Their task was simple: clear the residue that built up around the energy veins, shovel it into carts, and pray the vents didn't burst again. Work that broke backs and paid barely enough to keep their rations full.
Hours passed in heat and rhythm. The clang of picks and hammers filled the air, joined by the hiss of steam and the deep hum of the energy cores. Sweat ran into Luke's eyes. His hands ached. The glow of the walls made his skin look ghostly pale.
When the whistle finally blew, he dropped his tool with a sigh. Elias slumped beside him, breathing hard.
"Another glorious day under Heaven," Elias muttered.
Luke looked up at the shimmering pipes overhead, where faint golden light pulsed like a heartbeat. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Glory."
For a moment, the world seemed to hum with something deeper. The light flickered. The pipes groaned. Far above, through miles of metal and stone, the surface shone like a lie.
Luke didn't know why, but he felt it then—something watching. Something waiting.
And somewhere above, beyond the clouds and gilded towers, Heaven turned its gaze toward the dark.