The rhythmic pounding never stopped.
Even after Atlas left the lights of Millhome behind, the dull metallic echoes continued drifting through the darkness beneath the earth. Every strike carried faintly along the ancient stone corridors, followed by another and another until the separate sounds merged into a relentless heartbeat beneath the mountain itself.
Nobody spoke.
Every member of the assault force listened.
Hundreds of impacts.
Hundreds of workers.
Hundreds of people.
Emil's story had not been an exaggeration.
