The Undercity always smelled the same — rust, oil, and smoke thick enough to cling to your lungs. But lately, there was something else beneath it. Something sharper. Whispers.
The miners spoke softer now, glancing over shoulders as if the pipes themselves might report them. Since the light in Section Five, patrols had doubled. The Overseers' boots echoed through the tunnels like constant reminders to keep faith — and keep quiet.
The Nova's image loomed larger than ever on the wall screens: smiling, radiant, promising safety beneath His Crown.
Luke stood in line at the ration counter, staring at the same meal he'd eaten every day of his life — gray stew, one strip of bread, and a thin glass of recycled water. The woman ladling it out didn't bother to look up.
Next to him, Elias leaned forward, whispering, "I heard Section Five's sealed for good. They brought up the whole crew last night. No one's allowed near the pit."
Luke took his tray. "You shouldn't be talking about that here."
"I'm not saying anything bad," Elias muttered. "Just saying, maybe that thing we found scared the Overseers."
"The Overseers don't scare," Luke said quietly. "They report. Someone else gets scared for them."
They sat at their usual corner — a cracked steel table wedged beneath a leaking pipe. The steam hissed overhead like a breathing thing.
Across the mess hall, miners spoke in low voices. Every few minutes, someone's laughter rose — too loud, too nervous — before dying again. The room felt alive with something unsaid.
Elias broke his bread in half and pushed a piece across the table. "For the record, if that metal thing starts crawling through the walls, you're dealing with it. Not me."
Luke smirked. "You think it's a monster?"
"I think it's better not knowing."
He meant it as a joke, but his eyes didn't match the grin.
---
Halfway through the meal, the doors opened.
Reina walked in — boots polished, coat immaculate.
The room fell silent instantly. Even the steam seemed to hush. She crossed the hall with the cold precision of someone used to being watched. Her gaze swept the miners like a blade.
"Eat," she said. "And keep your voices low. There's work to be done."
No one moved.
Reina's tone hardened. "The Nova watches over you all. The mines are stable. The veins are pure. There is no danger."
The words were too practiced. Even she sounded tired of saying them.
Elias leaned toward Luke and whispered, "If there's no danger, why the guards with rifles?"
Luke didn't answer. The guards had already taken position by the doors.
Reina's eyes flicked toward their table. "You two. Stay after the meal."
Elias groaned under his breath. "See what your mouth gets us into?"
---
When the hall cleared, Reina sat across from them, removing her gloves one finger at a time. The gesture was slow, deliberate.
"You think this is a game," she said.
Elias shrugged. "It's lunch."
Reina's gaze turned icy. "Section Five is sealed under Nova decree. You will not speak of what you saw. You will not speculate, and you will not listen to the rats spreading stories."
Luke leaned forward slightly. "Reina… what was it?"
Her expression softened for a heartbeat — not kindness, but weariness. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"Some truths," she said, standing, "are buried for a reason."
Then she turned and left, leaving the faint echo of her boots and the low hum of the pipes.
---
Hours later, Luke found himself wandering the edge of the sector. The work tunnels curved into a viewing shaft — a place where the ceiling pipes pulsed faint light from the city above. As a child, he'd thought that light was the sky.
He sat down on the cold railing, letting his legs dangle. The hum from the walls reminded him of breathing — deep, patient, alive.
Footsteps approached. Elias dropped beside him with a sigh. "Got another shift assignment. We're back to vine extraction."
Luke grinned faintly. "So much for discovering the truth."
"Yeah," Elias said, watching the faint glow above. "But maybe it's better that way. People down here don't need hope. Hope gets you killed."
Luke didn't answer right away. The glow flickered once — faintly — and for a second, he thought he saw movement inside the pipes, like a ripple of blue light.
He blinked. It was gone.
"…Maybe," he said finally. "Or maybe it's the only thing keeping us alive."
They sat in silence after that — two shadows beneath a false heaven, listening to the slow pulse of something neither could yet name.