I had to do some REALLY heavy rewrites on this one. But I think I got it where I want it.

Enjoy.

Daniel

Daniel adjusted the weight of the shard case across his back as he left the first chamber. The walls of the mine were quieter now—but not silent. They pulsed in waves, not with sound but with emotion. Like memory.

The resonance wasn’t random. As Daniel moved, he felt the light shift with him, echoing not his mana but his thoughts. He walked more slowly, focusing on his breathing. The farther he descended, the more alive the walls felt.

He came to a junction he hadn’t noticed on their way in—a narrow passage nearly hidden by collapsed scaffolding. The glyphs above the arch were fractured but legible: Prototype Access — Private Wing.

Daniel hesitated. “Ethan?”

“I don’t recognize this path,” Ethan said slowly. “They must’ve expanded it after I left, or someone else started working here.”

Daniel pushed inside. The tunnel was rougher, less polished. It twisted and veered without the logical flow of the earlier passages. The walls here felt…raw, as if carved in a hurry by desperate hands. Abandoned tool crates lay scattered along the edges, half-covered in stone dust that seemed to shimmer with something unwholesome. The air grew thick with a cold, cloying dread. It tasted like ash and swallowed screams. That thought came unbidden but felt true all the same.

He moved deeper, and the passage suddenly widened. His breath caught. The path spilled into a vast, unlit cavern, barely visible in the faint ambient glow of untouched Skyglass veins high on the walls. It was massive—had to be a mile or more across. It was also silent, not in a peaceful way but in a terrifying way—like a maniac with a knife about to jump out and stab you in the face.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” Daniel murmured.

“What was that?” Ethan asked.

Daniel shook his head. “Nothing.”

He stared into the gloom and took in the horrific truth. This had been a settlement; that much was obvious. Dilapidated structures—crude shelters half-collapsed—were scattered across the uneven floor. Broken tools, long-rotted remnants of fabric, and twisted, rusted implements lay strewn amid piles of shattered stone. And amidst it all, countless skeletons. Piles of them. Not buried, not even neatly arranged. Just…broken, strewn everywhere, completely intertwined without rhythm or reason. Broken swords lay beside fractured bones. The signs of a brutal, absolute slaughter were undeniable. An entire community, utterly destroyed without regard or mercy.

A suffocating wave of despair rolled over Daniel from the raw emotional weight clinging to the air. He thought he was going to be sick. This wasn’t a place of quiet echoes; it was a vast, open grave of pure, concentrated suffering.

“What the hell…?” he whispered, his voice a ragged gasp.

Ethan was silent—a rare, chilling stillness in Daniel’s mind. The sheer scale of the terror seemed to overwhelm even him.

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Daniel’s gaze drifted across the horror, drawn by an unnerving flicker. Deep within the cavern, nestled among the ruins of what might have been a central communal space, glowed a vein of Skyglass unlike any he had seen. It was impossibly pure, radiating a soft, crystalline blue light that seemed to draw all the ambient dread toward it, condensing it—an ultra-pure vein.

He took a step toward it, drawn by morbid fascination. As he did, the air clenched. A sudden, non-physical pressure slammed into his mind. It was raw, unadulterated emotion—an unbearable resentment that burned with furious anger. It wasn’t his.

“Ethan!” Daniel staggered back, clutching his head. “Do you know what the hell is going on? What is that?”

“It was theirs. The victims. The slaughtered,” Ethan’s voice was strained, barely a whisper in his mind. “The Skyglass doesn’t absorb; it pushes. It collects and condenses. I think…it condensed their hatred, their despair, their fear. It’s all gathered here.”

The assault intensified. Images flashed across Daniel’s mind—not seen with his eyes but felt with his very being: a sudden, overwhelming terror; the piercing agony of a blade; the despair of utter loss. They were fragments, imprints of final moments, devoid of any individual soul. He began to realize: this was the raw, screaming resonance of total annihilation, of people who had just been living off the grid.

Was this bad luck…or something else?

The emotions brought more images—tall figures with horns and burning red eyes. Demons. Beings that delighted in slaughter.

If these were demons, and if this suffering was what awaited the people of Ethan’s world, then these things had to go back to whatever hellish pit they had crawled out of.

Daniel wouldn’t allow it. He was going to destroy any chance of this happening.

He fell to his knees, gasping, the resentment of thousands pressing down on him, turning his own thoughts to lead. The air crackled with condensed anguish. He felt the phantom pressure of desperate, futile struggles—broken promises, utter, soul-consuming fear.

“This isn’t just an echo,” Ethan said. “It’s a storm—a psychic maelstrom of pure suffering. I’ll try to shield you from it. Try to get to the central vein.”

“You can do that? What’s at the central vein?”

“I guess we’ll see if I can help—and probably find the center of all this.”

Daniel had to reach the Skyglass, just as Ethan suggested. It was the purest conduit, the epicenter of this agony. It might be the only way to sever the connection.

With a desperate, primal urge, Daniel forced himself forward, crawling toward the glowing pillar. Still, the whispers pushed against his consciousness.

Mom…Mom! MOM, PLEASE DON’T GO!

Help? I don’t want to die.

What are you doing? Why do I burn?

Death.

Pain.

Betrayal.

Gods…why…

Every inch was agony, every breath a battle against waves of pure resentment, fear, and loss. The air vibrated with the silent screams of the long-dead. His shaking hand reached for his extraction tool.

He knew what this place was now. It wasn’t just a mine for rare materials. It had been a home. A refuge. A place hidden away—one that hadn’t remained hidden for long.

Now, it was a monument to the true horror of the Demon Sect—an invasion so absolute it erased even lingering spirits, leaving only the raw, undying stain of emotion. And the Skyglass, in its purity, held it all locked in the surrounding rock.

The Skyglass vein, still glowing with terrifying purity, pulsed with blindingly bright mana; a current seemed to react to the crystal. Talk about bad luck.

“You’ve got to crack that thing,” Ethan said, his voice distant. “I’m shielding your mind, but the malice in here is getting out of control. I don’t know how long I can hold on.”

Daniel reached the pillar and watched it pulse. He didn’t have time—didn’t have the energy. He drew his sword. Qinglan’s Silence responded the moment it touched his hand; the blade pushed back the resentment and fear as it glowed with bright light. Daniel didn’t hesitate. He injected as much mana as he could into Qinglan’s Silence . It was sloppy and unrefined. Nathan wouild have been appalled.

He mustered his focus and stabbed the blade into the vein. A pulse of clean energy erupted in a strange pressure wave. Then, without warning, the Skyglass shattered. The air rang like breaking crystal, then shimmered and softened.

Daniel let out a deep breath.

"Damn." Was all he said.