Xkrrl’tchaqenn’drivoth crept through the tunnels on long, quiet legs, his narrow frame swallowed by the loose folds of his cloak. The Deepdark breathed around him; alive, resonant, filled with the steady drip of mineral water and the faint crackle of chemical reactions sparking in the rock.
The walls were layered with dark stone shot through with living veins of mineral crystal, glowing faintly in shifting hues; pale cyan, deep violet, and the soft greenish-gold of phosphorescent slime. Thin streams of bioluminescent fluid oozed along the floor like tiny rivers, their glow reflecting in the smooth white mask that hid Xkrrl’tchaqenn’drivoth’s face. Overhead, dangling sacs of amber-hued gel pulsed faintly, like lanterns hung by some unseen caretaker, dripping glowing droplets that hissed and smoked where they touched the ground. The air tasted metallic, alive, sharp with the scent of stone that had never known sunlight.
The gourd-lantern he carried sloshed as he moved, casting pale, rippling light that slid over the tunnel walls. It made his silhouette loom strangely, a child-shaped figure with too many arms, some tucked tightly beneath his cloak, others shifting idly like restless insects beneath chitin. His head tilted with an almost birdlike jerk as he paused, letting the echoes of the Deepdark settle.
He was close now. He could feel it; the way the air had changed, drier and thinner, the way the stone no longer drank the sound of his footsteps quite so greedily. He clicked softly, a low staccato noise deep in his throat, and crouched low to the ground.
Then he saw it.
A hairline fracture in the rock ahead, spilling light so alien it hurt to look at. Harsh and golden, the beams cut through the darkness like blades, catching the dust in the air and turning it into a storm of tiny suns. Real sunlight; not crystal-light, not fungal glow; the light of the world above. Xkrrl’tchaqenn’drivoth had only ever heard of it.
And then the voices came.
Sharp and clear, speaking words with hard edges and strange rhythms. U'Ma'ahn' voices. He froze, every limb going still, even his inner arms pressed tight against his torso. He heard the scrape of boots on rock, the metallic rattle of packs and tools, the bark of laughter that echoed down the tunnel.
Xkrrl’tchaqenn’drivoth dimmed his gourd-lantern with one small hand until it gave only the faintest glow, just enough for his sensitive eyes. He crept closer to the crack, lowering himself until his narrow mask caught a glint of the sunlight spilling through. The warmth of it painted him in gold as he crouched silently, many-armed, watching.
For a long moment he only listened, tilting his head to catch every sound, the cloak pooling around him like ink. The voices were moving closer. His claws twitched faintly against the stone.
He had never seen a U'Ma'ahn' before.
Xkrrl’tchaqenn’drivoth pressed closer to the stone, feeling its cold surface against his mask as he peered through the fracture. The crack widened just enough for him to see shapes moving beyond; at first just vague silhouettes against the blinding gold, then sharper, clearer as his eyes adjusted.
They were tall. Far taller than he expected, long-limbed and wrapped in layers of cloth and strange metal plates. Their faces were hidden behind smooth masks with glass eyes that gleamed like insect lenses, reflecting the sun and the glow of their own lanterns. They moved with heavy, deliberate steps, their boots crunching on the loose rock as though they did not care who heard.
Each carried a long object slung across their chest or cradled in their arms; rifles, though Xkrrl’tchaqenn’drivoth had never seen one before. They gleamed with blackened steel, cold and alien, and each was marked with symbols in a language he did not know. The U'Ma'ahn's also carried bulky devices that beeped and whined with tiny, sharp noises, casting scanning beams of light across the rock. One of the machines ticked rapidly, its noise rising when it passed near a glowing patch of crystal.
He watched as one U'Ma'ahn' knelt and unpacked a case of tools, setting up something on three legs that extended like a strange insect’s limbs. It clicked into place with a mechanical snap, and then began to rotate slowly, emitting a low hum that vibrated through the ground. Xkrrl’tchaqenn’drivoth felt the sound in his chest before he heard it in his ears.
He shifted slightly, one of his hidden arms twitching in instinctive alarm. The cloak rustled softly as he drew it tighter, trying to blend into the stone.
The U'Ma'ahn's were talking now; gesturing, pointing at readings on small, glowing screens. He couldn’t understand their words, but the tone was clear enough: excitement, discovery. One of them laughed and tapped the rock wall near the crack, so close Xkrrl’tchaqenn’drivoth could have reached out through the gap and brushed their glove with his claw.
He stayed very still, heart fluttering in his chest, watching as they moved closer to the sunlight break. Their gear rattled softly with each step, their voices echoing off the walls. The smell of them was strange; acrid, sharp, a mix of metal, oil, and something warm and living that reminded him of prey-creatures near the deep fungi forests.
Xkrrl’tchaqenn’drivoth’s mask tilted ever so slightly. His gourd-lantern pulsed faintly in his grip, as if urging him to run, but his claws dug into the stone instead.
He wanted to see more.
