For several seconds, nobody moved.
Dust drifted through the tunnel in thin gray streams while pale blue light pulsed behind the cracked wall.
The glow came and went unevenly, like lightning buried somewhere deep inside the mountain.
Someone’s pickaxe slipped from their hand and clattered against stone.
After that, the mine became strangely quiet.
No carts grinding over rails.
No hammering from nearby tunnels.
Even the usual dripping water sounded distant now.
Only the hum remained.
Low.
Steady.
Luo reacted first.
He took two fast steps backward and nearly bumped into a support beam.
“Seal it,” he muttered.
Then louder, “Seal the tunnel now.”
Nobody listened.
Partly because they were scared.
Mostly because they were staring.
Dhiraj recognized the expression almost immediately.
He had seen versions of it back on Earth too.
Different setting.
Same eyes.
Fear mixed with greed.
Graystone Mountain produced black iron and low-grade spirit ore.
The work destroyed people slowly.
Bent backs.
Ruined lungs.
Missing fingers.
Most miners did not live long enough to become old in any meaningful way.
But ancient ruins were different.
Even mortals knew the stories.
Hidden inheritances.
Spirit artifacts.
Cultivation manuals.
Treasure enough to disappear from a place like this forever.
One younger miner licked dry lips before speaking.
“What if there’s spirit jade inside?”
Another man beside him immediately shook his head.
“You idiot.
Places like this kill people.”
“Yeah, but what if there’s enough jade to buy—”
A scream from farther back cut him off.
“MOVE!”
The overseer shoved through the crowd carrying his bamboo rod.
Sweat darkened the collar of his clothes despite the cold underground air.
“Back!
Everyone move back!”
The workers retreated automatically, though not very far.
Just enough to avoid getting hit.
Dhiraj noticed something else.
The overseer himself stopped well short of the opening.
Lantern light showed the color draining from the man’s face.
So he was afraid too.
The crack in the wall stretched nearly from floor to ceiling now.
Broken rock littered the ground beneath it.
Pale light leaked through in irregular pulses, bright enough to illuminate drifting dust.
Something metallic lay buried behind the stone.
Not fully exposed.
Just fragments.
Smooth black surfaces hidden beneath collapsed rock.
Dhiraj narrowed his eyes slightly.
The material reflected light strangely.
Not polished exactly.
More like the surface absorbed part of the glow before returning it.
It reminded him of reactor shielding from Earth.
Not identical.
But close enough to make his stomach tighten.
A miner near the front whispered, “I heard caravan traders talk about ruins like this once.”
“Quiet,” somebody hissed immediately.
“They said ancient sects buried entire cities underground.”
Another miner snorted, though it sounded nervous.
“And my uncle says sea dragons sleep beneath the eastern ocean.”
Nobody laughed very hard.
The hum behind the wall continued.
Steady enough that Dhiraj eventually realized he could feel it faintly through the soles of his boots.
He crouched near the edge of the crowd and picked up a loose chunk of broken stone.
Dust coated his fingers immediately.
The inner surface looked strange.
Tiny lines spread beneath the rock like roots trapped inside stone.
Dhiraj rubbed the dust away with his thumb.
The lines flickered blue for half a second.
His heartbeat slowed instead of speeding up.
That was probably worse.
The overseer noticed him crouching.
“You!” the man snapped.
“Get away from there.”
Dhiraj stood without arguing.
More overseers arrived carrying lanterns and short blades.
One of them had dirt smeared across his cheek like he had rushed here without even washing properly.
Their confidence disappeared quickly after they saw the opening.
One spat onto the ground.
“Seal the lower tunnels.”
Another looked at him like he was insane.
“After getting the workers out first.”
“What workers?
They’re already standing around like cattle.”
“We report this before touching anything,” a third overseer interrupted.
“Report what exactly?”
The man pointed helplessly toward the wall.
“That.”
Nobody seemed eager to walk closer.
An older miner near the back suddenly made a protective gesture over his chest with trembling fingers.
“I’m leaving.”
The nearest overseer raised the bamboo rod immediately.
“You leave before shift ends and your family loses ration rights.”
The old man stopped moving.
For a second Dhiraj thought he might actually run anyway.
But the man slowly lowered his head instead.
That was the real chain keeping most people here.
Not loyalty.
Not courage.
Food.
Panic spread quickly underground.
Conversations turned into whispers almost by instinct.
Ancient ruins.
Buried sects.
Spirit treasures.
Mountain ghosts.
Some miners looked ready to flee the mine immediately.
Others kept staring at the opening like starving men outside a locked kitchen door.
The hum deepened slightly.
Several workers flinched.
Then the blue glow pulsed brighter than before.
Lines of pale light spread briefly across the tunnel walls.
Dhiraj frowned.
Symbols had appeared beneath the stone surface.
Not carved.
Embedded.
Thin geometric patterns stretched across the exposed metal beneath the collapse.
The designs looked too precise to belong to chisels or brushes.
Angular shapes overlapped one another in repeating formations.
Some resembled circles divided by straight lines.
Others branched outward like pathways.
The patterns reminded him of circuitry.
Not exactly.
But enough.
An uncomfortable feeling crawled slowly across his skin.
Reactor schematics.
Containment pathways.
Energy distribution lattices.
His brain kept trying to compare the shapes to things from Earth.
That probably made no sense.
One younger miner whispered, “Formation marks.”
An older worker shook his head immediately.
“No formation master uses symbols like that.”
“Then what are they?”
Nobody answered him.
A sharp cracking sound suddenly echoed from inside the opening.
The entire crowd stumbled backward at once.
Loose debris rained down from above.
Dust burst outward into the tunnel hard enough to make several workers cough.
Someone lost their lantern.
The flame sputtered out against the wet stone floor.
Then everything became quiet again except for coughing and nervous breathing.
The blue light dimmed afterward.
The overseers started shouting over one another almost immediately.
“Everyone out!”
“Move!”
“No talking about this outside the mine!”
That last order guaranteed people would talk about nothing else.
Workers began retreating through the tunnels in uneven groups.
Luo grabbed Dhiraj’s sleeve roughly while passing.
“Come on.”
Dhiraj allowed himself to be pulled along, though he glanced back once more toward the crack.
It somehow looked smaller from farther away.
As if the mountain itself wanted the opening hidden again.
Probably imagination.
Or exhaustion.
The climb toward the upper tunnels felt longer than usual.
The support beams creaked overhead.
Water dripped steadily from cracks in the stone ceiling.
Somebody nearby kept coughing every few seconds in a wet, unpleasant way.
Most conversations stopped whenever overseers walked past.
That changed absolutely nothing.
“…blue fire…”
“It wasn’t fire.”
“My cousin heard about ruins like this near Hollow Creek.”
“Your cousin drinks paint water.”
“What if there’s treasure down there?”
A miner farther back muttered, “Treasure underground usually comes attached to something that wants to kill you.”
A few people laughed weakly at that.
Not many.
The deeper tunnel workers looked especially nervous.
Several kept glancing behind them like they expected something to emerge from the darkness.
Nobody joked loudly anymore.
Even the overseers looked unsettled now.
By the time they reached the outer mining chambers, rumors had already spread ahead somehow.
That did not surprise Dhiraj much.
Rumors traveled faster than carts in places where people had nothing else.
The wider chamber near the surface had become crowded with workers from neighboring tunnels.
Lantern smoke gathered thickly beneath the ceiling, making the air smell oily and stale.
“…wall split open…”
“…hidden tomb…”
“…immortal inheritance…”
“Idiot,” someone snapped nearby.
“If immortals buried something there, why would they leave witnesses alive?”
That quieted a few people.
Others immediately started discussing whether cultivators would arrive soon.
One group near the supply station argued about sneaking into the lower tunnels at night before the sect claimed everything.
Greed spread quickly once hope attached itself to it.
The overseers tried crushing both.
“No worker enters the lower mine.”
“Anyone spreading rumors loses food rights.”
“Anyone stealing from restricted tunnels loses a hand.”
The threats helped a little.
Not enough.
People had seen the blue light themselves.
That mattered.
Dhiraj sat beside one of the support pillars while the arguments continued around him.
The wood dug uncomfortably into his shoulder through the thin fabric of his clothes.
He mostly listened.
Shen’s memories surfaced more easily now.
Fragmented.
Uneven.
Graystone Mine belonged indirectly to the Black Fang Sect.
The local overseers answered to sect representatives near Rivermarket City several days away.
Cultivators would come investigate eventually.
Probably soon.
That thought sat unpleasantly in his stomach.
This world treated mortals like tools.
He had learned that already.
Nearby, a drunk miner staggered through the chamber carrying a clay bottle with a cracked neck.
“I’m telling you,” the man slurred loudly, “this mountain’s cursed.
My grandfather worked here too.
Said tunnels got sealed thirty years ago after miners disappeared.”
“Your grandfather also claimed he fought river demons.”
“He did fight river demons.”
A few nearby workers laughed despite themselves.
The drunk pointed vaguely toward the mountain.
“There’s something under Graystone.”
Nobody mocked him after that.
Because they had all heard the hum.
The shift ended early near dusk.
Dhiraj finally emerged from the mine alongside hundreds of exhausted workers climbing narrow stone paths down the mountain slope.
Cold air hit his face hard enough to sting slightly.
Someone nearby immediately started coughing again.
The settlement below looked tense even from a distance.
Graystone Village spread across the lower mountainside beneath layers of smoke and fading orange light.
Crooked houses leaned together beside muddy roads crowded with carts, thin dogs, children carrying water buckets, and workers too tired to stand straight properly.
People already knew something had happened.
Faces turned toward the returning miners immediately.
Questions spread through the streets before anyone reached the lower paths.
“What happened?”
“Was it a collapse?”
“Did people die?”
The overseers tried pushing everyone home quickly.
That failed almost immediately.
Fear and curiosity had already escaped.
Dhiraj walked quietly through the settlement while Shen’s memories continued surfacing piece by piece.
A narrow shack near the eastern edge of the village.
A younger sister named Mei.
Debt that never seemed to shrink no matter how much they worked.
He eventually stopped outside a weathered wooden home barely large enough for two people.
One side of the roof sagged badly.
Somebody had patched part of the wall using cloth and uneven boards.
A broken bucket sat beside the doorway.
Coughing came from inside.
Dhiraj stood there for several seconds before opening the door.
Warm air greeted him first.
Weak warmth.
A small cooking fire burned near the corner while a thin girl wrapped in blankets looked up from a straw mat.
Her expression brightened immediately.
“Brother?”
The word hit strangely hard.
Nobody on Earth had ever looked relieved just because he returned home safely from work.
That realization bothered him more than expected.
Not because she recognized him.
Because somebody in this world had been waiting for Shen to come back alive.
Dhiraj answered carefully.
“…Mm.”
Mei relaxed slightly.
“You’re late today.”
“There was a collapse.”
Her eyes widened immediately.
“You’re hurt?”
“No.”
At least nothing serious.
She studied him for another moment.
“You look weird today.”
That almost made him laugh.
Fair observation.
Before he could answer, shouting suddenly erupted outside.
Not normal shouting.
Panicked.
Doors opened across nearby homes.
Workers stepped back into the muddy streets while nervous whispers spread rapidly through the settlement.
Dhiraj walked outside again.
Several miners were pointing toward the upper mountain road.
Torchlight moved there.
A lot of torchlight.
The crowd gradually became quieter.
Then the riders emerged through smoke and evening mist.
Black-robed figures rode spirit beasts large enough that ordinary horses would have panicked at the smell alone.
Metal ornaments hanging from their sleeves chimed softly with each movement.
The miners lowered their heads almost immediately.
Cultivators had arrived.