Weeks later, Del's hands don't shake anymore when he picks up artifacts.
Not because the wrongness stopped. It didn't. Pressure, cold, heart-rhythm changes - all still there, every time.
But his body has learned to function through it.
Keep walking while vision tunnels. Keep holding while hands burn.
Two weeks. Fourteen days of salvage work. Most new workers don't make it past eight.
He's seen the statistics play out in real time - bodies left in chambers, collapses, exposures that turn people inside out.
Markov is still his crew leader.
Still assigns carries with mathematical precision - not punishment, just resource allocation.
Del has learned to read him.
When Markov says "move," you move immediately. When he goes silent, something's wrong. When his face twitches, he's annoyed. When his eyes narrow slightly, someone's about to die and he's already written them off.
The woman with brown eyes is still alive, still with the possessive man. Del sees her at the warehouse most days during rations. They don't talk.
They haven't since she helped him after the carries.
The man keeps her close - hand always on her shoulder or arm, marking territory. But the man stares now, at Del.
She's gotten thinner. Everyone's thinner, but she looks made of paper now. Fragile.
Yesterday she looked at Del across the warehouse and something in her eyes was different. Not the warmth from before. Not the deadness either. Like she'd made a decision and was just waiting for the world to catch up.
He didn't ask. Doesn't know her name. Doesn't want to.
---
There's a new worker following him. Has been for two days now.
Younger, maybe twenty. Four days in the crews. Nervous energy - constantly moving, eyes darting, hands fidgeting.
He watches Del. Copies where Del goes, what he avoids, how he approaches artifacts.
Del noticed yesterday. Too tired to care.
---
Today they're assigned Section G. Three chambers - A, B, C. Seven workers including Del, with Markov leading.
The woman is in the crew today. She stands separate from the group, her arms wrapped around herself. The man isn't with her.
The first time Del's seen her without him in days.
---
Del's developed a habit. Before entering chambers, he observes. Watches from the passage entrance. Glow frequencies, pulse patterns, structural stability. And he listens for the hum.
Maybe thirty seconds, but it's kept him alive more than once.
They descend into Section G. At the junction, Del stops at each chamber entrance.
Chamber A: One artifact visible - cylinder glowing steady blue. Pulse regular, one-second intervals. Walls look solid.
Chamber B: Pale yellow glow from deeper in. Slower pulse. Ceiling has cracks but they're old, stable. Been that way for years probably.
Chamber C: Multiple glows - red, flickering. Irregular pulse - fast, then slow, then fast. No pattern. The light stutters.
*Avoid C.*
The woman is watching him and he feels her eyes observing him observing.
Markov gathers them at the junction. "Three chambers. You decide which. Retrieve what you can. Thirty minutes. Meet back here."
No assignments. See who can evaluate risk.
Del heads toward Chamber A without hesitation.
The woman follows him immediately.
One other worker joins them - a man Del doesn't know well. Been here a few weeks. Smart.
The follower is standing at the junction. Watching. Del feels his eyes. Sees him look at Del heading to A, then look at C. Multiple red glows visible. More artifacts. Better salvage. Better rations.
Del sees the calculation in the follower's face.
*Del's being cautious. But C has more. If I'm braver...*
The follower heads toward C.
Del almost says something.
Almost opens his mouth. Almost says "don't" or "irregular pulse" or *something*.
The woman is looking at him, waiting to see if he'll warn the follower.
He closes his mouth.
Not his problem. The kid has to learn.
The woman's face doesn't change. They turn toward Chamber A and enter.
---
Chamber A is small. Maybe fifteen feet across. Rubble everywhere - broken pieces scattered, most unidentifiable. Collapsed structure.
One artifact sits on a pedestal in the center. Cylinder, maybe a foot long. Glowing steady blue. Surface smooth metal, warm-looking even from distance.
The woman approaches it carefully, reaches out, touches the side.
No reaction. "Safe," she says. Flat voice with a hint of relief.
She picks it up and sets it in her bag.
The other man kicks through rubble. "Nothing else. Just broken shit."
Del lets out a small smile.
Del circles anyway. Checking walls, corners. His foot kicks something - small object rolls across the floor.
He picks it up.
Irregular chunk. Size of his palm. Dull gray metal, cold. No glow. But the weight feels wrong. Too heavy for its size.
He turns it over. One side has markings etched in - three symbols he doesn't recognize. The metal is smooth there, less corroded than the rest.
Tests it. Holds it, waiting for wrongness.
Nothing. There's no pressure, no cold, no heart changes.
Pockets it.
The other man is still searching. "This one's - "
---
Sound erupts from Chamber C. A high-pitched screech and a rising frequency. Like metal screaming, odd and unsettling.
Everyone freezes.
The woman drops her bag. The cylinder inside doesn't break. Her face goes pale. "Fuck."
Screaming starts. Multiple voices. Not pain yet - fear. Panic. Shouts overlapping.
Then the other kind of screaming as the ground shakes and an explosion reverberates. An immense burst of energy releases with the activation of the artifact.
Dust billows from the passage leading to C.
Del doesn't notice when but the screaming cuts off.
All at once.
Silence.
Del stands there, the metal chunk still in his hand. The woman stares at the passage, breathing hard. The other man backs toward the exit, eyes wide.
"What the fuck was THAT??", someone mutters.
"Shut up."
Footsteps. Markov appears from Chamber B, moving fast. Face stone. "Anyone in C?"
The woman's voice shakes. "Three. The new kid and two others. They went in before we could - "
He sighs.
"Lost." Markov's voice flat. "Mark it unstable. Continue in A and B."
Three dead and the response is: keep working.
The woman picks up her bag, her movements mechanical and not looking at anyone.
Del pockets the metal chunk, walks toward the passage to C. Doesn't plan to. His legs just move.
"Del." Markov's voice. Warning.
Del doesn't stop. Reaches the entrance.
The woman is behind him. Not following. Just standing there, watching him look.
---
The dust is settling. He can see into the chamber now.
Partial collapse. One wall came down. Rubble everywhere, covering half the floor. Multiple artifacts still glow in the debris - red, pulsing faster, excited.
Two distinct amalgamations of flesh visible in the rubble, and one person.
Flesh buried from waist down, upper bodies twisted at angles that aren't right.
The third -
An arm sticking out from under stones. Just the arm. Shoulder-down buried.
The arm is moving. Fingers opening and closing. Slow. Deliberate.
The follower. Still alive.
Del takes a step into the chamber.
"Don't." Markov's voice right behind him. Hand on Del's shoulder, grip tight. "Unstable. We don't retrieve."
"He's still - "
"He's dead. Might take minutes. Might take an hour. We don't wait." Markov's grip tightens. "You don't go in there. Wall could finish collapsing any second. Four bodies instead of three. Do the math."
The woman is still standing there, looking at the arm. Her face pale. Not crying but hands shaking.
Del stares at the arm. Fingers moving slower now. Opening. Closing. Opening.
The kid followed him. Watched Del go to A and thought C must be safe.
Saw the pattern. Didn't understand the reason.
The fingers stop moving.
The woman makes a small sound. Not quite a gasp.
Del stands there watching where the movement was. The ghost of a grip at his shoulder remains.
"Back to A." Markov's voice. Not a suggestion.
Del turns. The woman is already walking back, not looking at him and not looking at anything.
---
They finish Chamber A. One artifact - the cylinder. The woman works silently, efficiently. Doesn't look at Del. Doesn't look at the passage to C.
Move to Chamber B. Two more artifacts there, both glowing pale yellow. Del carries one. The woman takes the other. Nobody mentions Chamber C.
Total time: thirty minutes. Three artifacts collected. Three dead.
The ratio doesn't quite feel right.
The climb to surface is quiet. Del carries one artifact in a bag, the metal chunk in his pocket. The woman walks next to him, crying now. Silent - tears running down her face but no sound. Still walking. Still functional.
---
At the warehouse they turn in artifacts. Get rations. Del sits in his usual corner. Eats the bread without tasting it. The texture is too dry, too apparent to ignore. Water doesn't help the dryness in his throat.
The woman sits across from him. The man still isn't here. Just her. She's not crying anymore but her eyes are red.
She doesn't speak for a while. Just sits there holding her bread. Not eating.
Finally: "First time watching someone die?"
"No."
"First time it was your fault?"
Del looks up. Her brown eyes staring at him, glistening.
"I didn't - "
"You didn't warn him." She takes a bite of bread, chews slowly. "I saw. You knew C was bad. He followed you to A. You could have said something. 'Don't go to C.' Two seconds. Didn't."
*Hypocrite.*
Del sets down his bread. "You knew too."
She stops chewing.
"You followed me to A," Del says. "You saw me check the chambers. You knew C was wrong same as I did. You could have warned him too."
Silence.
She swallows. Her brown eyes hesitate.
"That's different."
"How?"
"He was following *you*. Not me."
"He was in the crew. Same as you. Same as me. You want to blame someone for not warning him, blame yourself too."
Her face hardens. "Fuck you."
"Yeah." Del picks up his bread again. "Fuck me too."
She stands, takes her rations, walks away without looking back.
Del sits there alone.
---
The warehouse empties slowly. Del sits until there's almost no one left.
The metal chunk is still in his pocket. He pulls it out, examines it in the dim light. Three symbols etched in smooth metal. Everything else rough and corroded except this one surface.
Doesn't know what it means. Is it valuable?
Pockets it again.
---
That night he lies in his corner, staring at darkness.
Irregular pulse pattern = unstable artifact = avoid.
Three deaths confirm it. Next time he sees that pattern he'll avoid it. He'll survive.
He's learning from their deaths.
*If I don't learn, I die too.*
He hates it.
Hates that the follower's death means something to him primarily as information - *irregular pulse equals danger* - and not as a person who stopped existing.
The follower had a face. It's hazy. Had a name probably. Never asked. Just "the new kid" in his head. A lesson.
*Is this what I'm becoming?*
The knife is still in his belt. The one from the first days. He touches it, remembers kicking the beam. The man screaming. Taking the food and walking away.
That was different though. Direct threat. Self-defense.
He feels a glare shooting at him. He turns right, nothing.
He looks forward, into the distance, below a meeting point of two pieces of collapsed stone, and hidden in the shadows, he sees a child.
No, the child.
He looks away.
That was justified, this wasn't.
He could've helped.
He tries to sleep. Can't. Every time he closes his eyes he sees the arm. Fingers opening and closing. Getting slower. Stopping.
He followed me because he thought I knew how to survive.
Eventually exhaustion wins. Dreams of red light pulsing irregular and an arm reaching from rubble and a child staring and his own mouth opening to warn someone but no sound coming out.
Wakes before dawn. Body aching.
Gets up. Heads to warehouse.
The woman is there with the man again. Hand on her shoulder. She sees Del, blinks, then looks away immediately. Back to blank.
Markov is assigning crews. "Del. You're with me again. Section H. Four chambers. Move."
Del follows.