The mines felt quieter since Reina's departure.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet — the kind that made every cough, every footstep echo too long in the tunnels.
The new Overseer, Marshal Gantz, didn't like noise.
He didn't like laughter either.
Or questions.
Or Luke and Elias.
"Pace steady," he barked, pacing along the ledge. "Swing in rhythm! Measure twice before striking! The Nova's order demands precision, not chaos!"
His boots clicked against the metal as he watched them work — eyes sharp as glass, hands behind his back like a soldier inspecting a firing line.
Luke leaned on his pickaxe and whispered, "You think if I start singing, he'll explode?"
Elias smirked. "If you sing like last time, I'll explode first."
"Good," Luke muttered, pretending to swing. "Maybe then he'll think I'm working harder."
Gantz's shadow fell across them.
"Worker," he said.
Luke froze. "Yes, Overseer?"
Gantz squinted at the wall Luke had been "mining." Not a single chip of rock out of place. "This section appears untouched."
Luke blinked, deadpan. "The wall's tougher today, sir."
Gantz stared, unamused. "Tougher?"
"Yes, sir. Resistant rock. It's stubborn."
For a moment, silence. Then Elias coughed — badly disguised laughter.
Gantz's voice went flat. "You both find humor in inefficiency?"
"Only in moderation," Luke replied, straight-faced.
A long pause. The Overseer's jaw tightened. "You two. Sector Three. Vent cleaning duty."
Elias's grin widened. "Our favorite."
"Make sure it's spotless," Gantz said, turning sharply. "I'll be inspecting at dusk."
When he was gone, Luke dropped the pickaxe with a sigh.
"Vent duty," he groaned. "We've really hit rock bottom this time."
Elias smirked. "Hey, at least we're consistent."
---
The vent tunnels were narrow and suffocating, filled with old dust and the smell of burnt metal. Luke crawled through, scraping his knuckles on the grates.
"So," Elias called from ahead, "how many more days until the tournament?"
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Elias grinned. "Perfect timing."
Luke chuckled, wiping grime from his forehead. "You sure about this? We vanish now, people'll notice."
"That's the idea," Elias said, voice echoing in the dark. "If we get fired today, no one will ask questions tomorrow."
"Genius plan."
"Thank you, I try."
They spent the rest of the shift "accidentally" dropping tools, clogging vents, and redirecting airflow so the Overseer's inspection route filled with choking dust.
When Gantz arrived hours later, coughing through his mask, both Luke and Elias were standing proudly with fake innocence.
"Vent's clear, sir!" Luke shouted over the roar of the system.
Gantz's eyes twitched as the dust swirled around him. "You call this clear?"
Elias coughed dramatically. "Cleaner than my conscience, sir."
That did it.
"Enough!" Gantz roared. "You're suspended from tomorrow's duties! Report for reassignment next cycle!"
Luke and Elias shared a quick glance — the kind that said perfect.
"Yes, Overseer!" they shouted in unison, voices almost cheerful.
---
Later that night, the two sat on the pipes above the sleeping quarters. The Undercity was quiet again, steam rising in thin silver ribbons.
Elias tossed a pebble into the dark. "So, we're officially unemployed."
"Temporarily," Luke said, grinning. "Heroes in training tomorrow."
"Think Reina would believe that?"
"She'd call us idiots."
"She wouldn't be wrong."
They laughed quietly, the sound swallowed by the endless hum of machinery.
Far above them, faint and distant, came the echo of the surface city's bells — the final signal before the Nova's Tournament of Ascension.
Luke looked up, eyes reflecting the flickering pipes.
"Tomorrow," he whispered, "we show them what the vermin can do."
Elias smirked. "Let's make it loud."