The world fractured into noise and impact. My ribs screeched in protest as Tavira’s slight weight slammed against them, then the real force hit. Stone groaned, then shattered. Dust choked my throat, thick and acrid, tasting of old ore and fresh destruction. I clenched my eyes shut, pressing Tavira’s head against my chest, waiting for the final crushing blow, but it never came. Only ringing silence, punctuated by the drip-drip of unseen water and the frantic thrum of my own heart. Tavira coughed, a rasping sound. I opened my eyes. We were plunged into absolute blackness. The air was a suffocating blanket. “You alright?” My voice was hoarse, a thin whisper in the vast, tomb-like space. Her reply was a string of curses, creative and specific, that confirmed her relative health. “My head’s ringing like a gong. Where are we?” “A pocket, maybe. The rockfall must have created a hollow. Stay still.” I shifted, pain lancing through my side. The protective gear of the Institute offered little solace against raw rock. My hands swept the oppressive darkness, finding loose scree, then a solid wall of stone. Above, nothing but more stone. We were buried. Then, a faint, metallic skittering sound. Not the drip, but something else. Something… moving. “Did you hear that?” Tavira’s voice was sharper, all immediate concern overriding her pain. The sound caught in my throat. The skittering came again, closer, accompanied by a low, wet clicking. “Smog-crawlers,” I breathed, the word a curse. The lower levels crawled with feral things warped by the Chem-Fog—blind, hunting purely by vibration and scent. “Of course,” Tavira muttered, already scrambling. “Naturally. It wouldn’t be an exam without vermin trying to strip the meat off our ribs.” I fumbled for my emergency lantern, its yellow beam cutting dimly through the gloom. It cast grotesque, dancing shadows, making every jutting rock seem like a lurking shape. The scuttling grew louder, a chorus of frantic scrapes. A pair of glowing, orange eyes blinked into existence at the edge of the lantern's beam, followed by a chitinous, multi-limbed body scuttling over the debris. Its maw clicked open, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. “Don’t make sudden moves,” I warned, my hand finding a loose, jagged piece of timber. It made a pathetic cudgel, but it was all I had. “Hard to do when they’re trying to turn you into their next meal!” Tavira swung her multi-wrench, a blur in the dim light, catching the beast on a segmented leg. It shrieked, a dry rasp that drew more shapes skittering from the rubble. The lantern light reflected off dozens of glowing eyes. “There!” Tavira pointed with her wrench. “A crack! It’s leading somewhere.” I saw it, a jagged fissure in the rock, narrow enough to scrape cloth from bone. Beyond it, a faint, almost imperceptible current of air. “This way!” We squeezed through, scraping our shoulders raw, the beasts snapping inches behind us. The fissure opened into a narrow, unstable drift. We could hear the mine groaning around us, the cave-in still settling, dust raining down. “Blast door, ahead!” Tavira yelled, her voice echoing. “Emergency exit! If we can reach it…” The door was massive, a solid sheet of pitted steel, meant to seal off unstable sections. A warning light flashed weakly above it, powered by a sputtering, exposed conduit line. The lever to open it was rusted solid. Several shapes were already scuttling toward us from the opposite end of the shaft, their mandible clicks growing frantic. “It’s jammed!” Tavira grunted, pulling at the lever with all her might. “Power’s too weak to cycle it automatically.” I saw the problem. The main circuit was open, a frayed cable arcing erratically against the damp rock, weakly pulsing with enough current to feed the warning light. It needed a ground. “Move!” I shoved her aside, ignoring the fresh protest from my ribs. There was no time. The pack was mere yards away, their chemical stench thick in the air. “Get ready to pull that lever the second it moves!” Before she could argue, I ripped off my thick gauntlet. The cold, damp air bit at my palm. I gripped the exposed, live wire, the rough copper biting into my flesh. A blinding flash, a searing jolt that coursed through my arm, up my chest, and down my legs. Every muscle seized, my teeth clattering together. The smell of ozone filled my nostrils. Pain, sharp and intense, lanced through me, but I held on, gritting my teeth, my vision blurring at the edges. The warning light flared, the blast door’s ancient gears whining to life, slowly, agonizingly slowly, beginning to retract. “NOW, TAVIRA!” I roared, the sound torn from my lungs, my voice already fading. My arm was numb, then burning, then numb again. She didn’t hesitate. With a grunt, she threw her entire weight into the lever. The blast door shuddered, then slid open just enough for us to slip through, revealing another pitch-black shaft beyond. My body screamed as I released the wire, staggering, nearly collapsing. My arm felt like a dead thing, buzzing with phantom sparks. Tavira caught me, her expression grim. “You absolute lunatic! You could have died!” “Better me than us,” I gasped, leaning heavily on her. “Come on, more coming.” We stumbled into the next passage, the blast door hissing shut behind us just as the lead creature slammed into it. The shrill noises receded, replaced by the dull rake of claws against steel plate. “This way, the ventilation shaft leads to the surface,” she said, her voice tight with urgency, pulling me along. The crawlway was rough, winding steeply upwards. We climbed, a slow, arduous ascent, my vision dotted with black spots from the shock to my system. My breath came in ragged gasps, but Tavira, despite her own exhaustion, kept a relentless pace. We emerged into a wider, more stable section, still underground, but with a faint, dusty light filtering from above. It felt like salvation. Then Tavira froze, her grip on my arm tightening painfully. Her eyes, wide with a sudden, unnerving intensity, fixed on something ahead. I followed her gaze. Lissea. Tavira's cousin. She was leaning against a support beam, looking perfectly composed, her Academy uniform unmarred by the mine’s filth. She held something small and shiny in her palm, examining it with a detached air. She wasn’t alone. A few other students, looking just as clean, stood nearby, chattering nervously. But it wasn’t Lissea’s presence that had stopped Tavira cold. It was something else. Tavira’s brow furrowed, her eyes narrowed, tracing something in the air around Lissea. A flicker. I caught it too, a brief, almost imperceptible shimmer, like heat haze, around Lissea’s head, distorting the light, then it was gone. Just a trick of the eye, I thought, or the dim mine light. But Tavira’s reaction was not one of simple confusion. Her jaw dropped slightly, then snapped shut. Her head tilted, as if trying to resolve a visual anomaly. Her hand, the one not holding my arm, lifted slowly, as if to touch the air, then dropped. A profound, dawning horror spread across her face, eclipsing the exhaustion, the pain, the anger. It was the look of someone seeing something impossible, something that shattered the very fabric of reality. “What is it?” I whispered, but she didn’t answer. She just stared at Lissea, her eyes wide, a chilling comprehension blooming in them. Lissea looked up then, her eyes meeting Tavira’s across the expanse. A faint, knowing smile touched Lissea’s lips, a flicker of triumph, quickly masked. She didn’t look surprised to see us, not even a little. In fact, she looked entirely expectant. “Come on,” Tavira said, her voice a strained whisper, pulling me forward, the previous urgency replaced by a cold, dreadful resolve. “We’re not done here.” We ascended the last, creaking steps, bursting into the smoggy, grey light of the surface. The Grand Artificer, his stern face framed by a grimy, high-collared coat, stood on a makeshift dais, flanked by several Academy officials. A small crowd of students and mine overseers watched intently. In his hand, glinting dully, was the Grand Artificer’s master key. He cleared his throat, his voice booming over the ambient hum of the surface machinery. “While many have displayed commendable bravery today, only one student has truly demonstrated the ingenuity, the foresight, and indeed, the sheer, unprecedented aura of destiny required to claim this prize.” He paused, his gaze sweeping the crowd, then settled firmly on Lissea, who stood demurely to the side, a perfect picture of innocent success. “Lissea Morzhan! Come forward and claim your rightful reward!”

Glitches in the Dark