The air in the silver mines of Zul didn't just smell of damp earth; it tasted of copper and old sweat.
Evelyn's eyes snapped open. The first thing she felt was the bite of a cold iron collar against her windpipe. The second was the rhythmic, hollow thrum-thrum-thrum of a pickaxe striking stone somewhere in the dark.
This isn't the Seattle transit office, she thought, her breath hitching. The bridge project... the flickering server lights...
A jagged cough tore through her lungs. She tried to lift her hand to her throat, but a heavy chain clattered, pinning her wrist to a wooden post.
"Easy, Evie. Don't fight the iron. It only bites harder when you're awake."
The voice was low, raspy, and achingly familiar. A man sat slumped against the opposite wall of the cramped cavern. His face was a map of soot and healing scars, but his eyes wide and amber in the dim torchlight belonged to Kaelen. Her best friend. Her lead surveyor. But he was wearing rags, and his hands were calloused in ways a modern man's never were.
"Kaelen?" her voice came out as a dry croak.
"I'm here." He reached out, his fingers grazing her knee before retreating. "You've been out for two days. The Overseer thought you were dead. I told them you were just... transitioning."
Evelyn squinted. The torch on the wall flickered, and suddenly, the world fractured.
A translucent amber grid shimmered across her vision, mapping the jagged ceiling of the cave. Geometric lines traced the stress points of the rock. In the center of her field of view, a pale gold parchment-effect window unfurled.
[ STEWARD'S OVERSIGHT: INITIALIZED ]
Identity Confirmed: Evelyn Reed (Steward)
Condition: Dehydrated / Stage 1 Malnutrition / Cervical Constriction (Iron) Environment: Sector 4, Imperial Silver Mines (Zulian Empire)
Objective: Preservation of the Image.
Evelyn blinked rapidly, shaking her head. "Kaelen, do you see... the lights?"
Kaelen's brow furrowed. He leaned forward, the shadows deepening in the hollows of his cheeks. "The fever hasn't broken yet. There are no lights, Evie. Only the tallow candles, and they're running low."
He reached into a hidden fold of his tunic and pulled out a small, dented tin cup. With agonizing slowness, he held it to her lips. The water was lukewarm and tasted of silt, but as it hit her tongue, another notification pinged in the corner of her eye.
[ ANALYSIS: POTABLE WATER ]
Contaminants: High Sedimentary Lead (0.04%).
Warning: Prolonged consumption will lead to neurological decline.
Steward's Note: "Pure water is a gift; the earth filters, but man must refine."
She pushed the cup away, her mind racing. This wasn't a dream. The cold of the floor was too sharp; the smell of Kaelen's unwashed hair was too visceral. She looked at the pickaxe leaning against the wall.
[ OBJECT: PIG-IRON PICK ]
Durability: 12%
Composition: High Carbon / Brittle.
Efficiency: Poor.
"Where are we?" she whispered, her fingers digging into the dirt.
"Zul," Kaelen said, his voice dropping to a cautious thrum. "The Empire of the Living Idols. We're 'Silent ones' now, Evie. Property. We've been here a month. You... you fell during the sorting. I've been doing your quota and mine so they wouldn't toss you in the corpse-pit."
A heavy boot stepped into the circle of light. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet cave.
Evelyn looked up. A man in a lacquered leather breastplate loomed over them. He held a whip coiled like a sleeping snake. Behind him, a young woman in silk robes stood watching: Lady Isolde, though Evelyn didn't know her name yet. The woman looked at the slaves not with hatred, but with the casual indifference one might show a broken chair.
The System flared a violent, pulsing red over the man's chest.
[ SOCIAL INSIGHT: OVERSEER VARO ]
Status: Aggressive / Malicious.
Intent: To demonstrate 'Correction' for the Lady's amusement.
"The girl is awake," Varo drawled, his voice oily. He looked at Isolde. "A waste of space, my Lady. But her companion here says she has a 'gift' for finding the veins."
Isolde stepped forward, the hem of her white silk dress dragging through the coal dust. She tilted Evelyn's chin up with a gloved finger.
"A gift?" Isolde's voice was melodic, beautiful, and utterly cold. "The gods grant gifts to the faithful. Slaves have only duties. If she does not find a new vein by sunrise, Varo, take her to the branding square. We have no use for broken tools."
As Isolde turned to leave, Evelyn saw a faint blue shimmer around the Lady's necklace, a vial of clear liquid.
[ CHEMICAL ANALYSIS: WHITE PHOSPHORUS ]
Application: Spontaneous combustion when exposed to air.
Conclusion: Fraudulent 'Divine Fire.'
The realization hit Evelyn like a physical blow. These "gods" weren't divine. They were just people playing with chemistry they didn't understand, using it to chain the world.
Varo sneered, kicking Kaelen's shin as he followed the Lady out. "You heard her. Sunrise. Or you both go to the pit."
Silence returned to the cave, heavier than before. Kaelen slumped, his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, Evie. I tried to buy us time. But there's no silver left in this wall. I've dug until my nails bled."
Evelyn looked at the wall Kaelen had been fruitlessly striking. The amber grid of her System expanded, piercing through the rock, revealing the hidden architecture of the earth.
Deep within the stone, six feet to the left of Kaelen's marks, a vein of pure, crystalline silver glowed like a neon sign in her vision.
She reached out, her hand trembling as she touched the cold, dead rock.
"We aren't going to the pit, Kaelen," she said, her voice steadying as the logic of the 21st century began to mesh with the gift of the System. "The Creator put the wealth of this world in the ground for those who know how to look. And I can see everything."
She grabbed the brittle pickaxe.
"Hand me the light. We have a kingdom to build."