Chapter 23 - Down below

The first sound of metal on earth came at dawn.

Not iron blades or forged drills. Just rusted shovels and wooden poles, wrapped in cloth to prevent splinters. Makeshift. Crude. But steady.

Ren stood at the edge of the pit, arms crossed, watching as the first shift began to dig.

The drill, the unknown relic, rested beside him on a linen wrap, untouched for now. It gleamed faintly in the rising sun, dust clinging only where fingers had held it.

Tobren barked instructions, directing teams of three into the trench.

"Shift changes in three hours. No shortcuts. If you're too tired to think, you're too tired to dig."

The villagers moved like a machine. Not fast. Not eager. But willing. Purpose was a rare thing in the Wasteland, and today, it filled every breath.

Ren crouched beside the pit and ran his fingers through the exposed soil.

Dry. Coarse. But layered.

"Two more meters," he muttered to himself. "Maybe three."

Kaela approached, her long coat trailing behind her like a shadow. She knelt beside the drill, hovering her palm above it.

"No change," she said softly. "Still quiet. Still resisting."

"Maybe it's not meant to be used by magic," Ren said.

Kaela frowned. "Then what's it meant for?"

Ren didn't answer. Not yet.

He looked down into the pit. Its already a meter deep, with walls reinforced by discarded wood and broken carts. It wasn't pretty. But it held.

For now.

Kaela stepped forward, her boots crunching softly against the dry soil. She moved with purpose, but there was something else in her stride today. Something sharper. Focused.

Ren noticed it immediately.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

Kaela didn't answer directly. Her eyes stayed fixed on the shallow trench ahead.

Then she called out, loud enough for the nearby workers to hear, "Elli. Marrec. Come here."

The children, who had been stacking buckets nearby, froze. Elli's eyes widened, her small hands tightening around the empty pail.

"What's this about?" Ren asked again, stepping closer.

Kaela's lips curled into a knowing half-smile. "Just wait. You'll see."

She motioned for the nearby workers to step back.

"Clear the pit for a moment. Give us space."

With a few uncertain glances, the villagers moved away, tools in hand.

Kaela turned to Elli.

"Use your water. Just a little."

Elli fidgeted, biting her lip. "But… there's too many people watching."

"It's alright," Kaela said gently. She cast a glance over her shoulder, then rested a hand on the girl's back. "I'm here. You're safe."

Elli nodded slowly. Her fingers twitched as she stepped forward, gaze focused on the dry dirt below.

"Marrec," Kaela called next. "Just in case. Cast the shield you've been practicing."

Marrec looked like he might run. But he swallowed hard, stepped beside his sister, and raised both hands. His palms trembling.

"Okay," he said, voice barely above a whisper.

A soft shimmer began to glow around the children, like heat rippling off stone. It flickered once, then settled.

Kaela stepped back. "Go ahead."

Elli inhaled deeply. Her eyes fluttered shut. Then she exhaled slowly… and the air around her fingertips shifted. A single bead of moisture formed between her palms, shimmering unnaturally bright in the midday sun.

The droplet grew, floating.

She released it, letting it drift toward the trench.

As it sank into the dirt, something happened.

A faint sound, not a hiss, but a hum. Low. Resonant. Like something ancient being nudged awake.

The dirt darkened around the point of impact, and just beneath the surface… the ground shimmered. Not with light, but with reflection.

Kaela's eyes lit up. "There."

Ren leaned closer, startled. He saw it too. Just beneath the layer of dust, smooth stone. Not soil. Not clay.

Something cut and shaped.

He looked at Kaela. "That's not natural."

"No," she agreed softly. "It's not."

Ren crouched beside the shimmering patch where Elli's water had soaked through.

He brushed the topsoil away with his fingers until cold stone kissed his skin. It smooth, almost polished, though dulled by age.

A deliberate surface, cut by hands long gone.

Kaela stood over him. "Try the relic."

Ren nodded, reaching for the wrapped relic. He unrolled it carefully. Even in the heat of the day, the metal was warm. Like it remembered being used.

He climbed into the trench, placing the drill's tip gently onto the stone.

The moment it touched, a soft hum rose up, deep and subtle, like distant thunder underwater.

The relic reacted, its runes shimmered faintly, just enough to be seen in the shade of the trench.

Then he turned the handle.

At first, nothing.

Then with a low pulse, the drill's end began to rotate. Not fast, but steadily, pushing down into the stone.

The villagers leaned in, whispering.

Kaela knelt at the edge. "It's working…"

"Wait," Tobren muttered. "It's actually cutting through?"

Ren braced his arms, keeping the tool steady. He didn't need to force it, the relic moved as if guided, the drill humming in rhythm with something.

Stone dust curled upward.

They were holding their breath.

Then—

It stopped.

The hum cut off mid-note. The rotating end locked in place. The glow in the metal died, the drill suddenly inert in Ren's hands.

"…What?" Ren blinked, twisting the shaft. Nothing moved. "Did it… jam? Or maybe break?"

Kaela jumped down beside him, placing her hands over the metal. She channeled a faint pulse of magic, then shook her head.

"No reaction. It's just… cold now. Dead."

"Maybe it cracked something inside," Tobren offered, stepping close. "It probably can't last much longer than this."

The villagers began to murmur. One or two turned away, already assuming the worst.

Ren's fingers tightened around the shaft.

"No. I don't think it broke."

Kaela raised a brow. "You sure?"

He looked down at the drill. It had felt alive. Connected. It wanted to work, he was certain.

So why had it stopped?

He turned it over slowly, inspecting its base. Then something clicked in his memory.

"Remember the map?" he said softly. "When I first found it. It glitched. Then went dark. For almost a whole day."

Kaela nodded. "Then it began showing things again."

Ren glanced up. "What if this is the same? What if it just… needs time?"

Kaela didn't reply at first. She looked down at the relic, then gave a small, slow nod.

"Cooldown."

"Exactly."

He turned to Tobren.

"Let's not tell the rest it's broken. We'll give it a few hours, try again at sundown. Meanwhile, mark this spot."

"What should I tell them?"

Ren stood, brushing dust from his knees.

"Tell them it found something. That's all they need for now."

Kaela stepped out of the trench behind him, voice low.

"You still think all this is coincidence?"

With heavy hearts, the villagers left the site and headed back toward the tower.

Ren's gaze lingered on the horizon, watching the sky deepen into gold.

"No," he murmured. "There must be a pattern. I just haven't figured it out yet."

He didn't know how long it would take. Can be minutes, hours, or days.

Maybe this thing just needs to recharge.

If it's unlimited to use… this thing could rival the power of the gods. That's dangerous.

The villagers didn't need to know every detail.

They just needed to believe this was part of the plan.

Ren would carry the burden of doubt, so they could carry hope.