The morning in Ashen Valley was cloaked in a thin mist, the repair area at the camp’s edge unusually quiet. Jake Riley crouched beside an old mining machine, his wrench spinning rapidly in his hand as he hummed a tuneless melody. He occasionally glanced at McCollum nearby, the old miner slowly wiping the tracks of an excavator, his movements as steady as a machine’s.
“Hey, Old Mc, got another busted piece of junk here,” Jake called out deliberately, raising his voice. “It ran for half an hour yesterday, shaking like crazy—gotta fix it today no matter what. You’re the veteran, right? Come give me a hand?”
McCollum looked up, flashing a simple, honest smile, and walked over, leaning on his wooden staff. “Sure thing, kid, I know this old girl well.” His tone was calm, completely unaware of the sly glint that flashed in Jake’s eyes.
Not far off, Rebecca Shaw and Lila stood in the shadows, speaking in low voices. Rebecca held a few documents, pretending to check the supply list, but her gaze was fixed on McCollum. Lila fiddled with a homemade detector, a playful smirk on her lips. Tara leaned against a metal plate nearby, her steel blade lightly scraping the ground, her eyes cold and sharp, like a wolf ready to pounce.
Jake stood up, brushing the dust off his hands, and said to McCollum, “The problem with this machine is deep in the repair tunnel—we need to go down and take a look. Let’s all go together, save you the trouble of doing it alone.” He glanced back at Rebecca, who gave a slight nod, signaling that everything was proceeding as planned.
The B-3 repair tunnel stretched deep underground, its walls slick with condensed moisture, the scars of years of neglect clearly visible. The air was thick with the sharp smell of rust and ozone, the narrow passage echoing with the low hum of machinery. Jake Riley led the group, with McCollum close behind him, while Rebecca, Lila, and Tara trailed a few steps back. Their boots clanged on the metal grating, each sound swallowed by the oppressive silence. Overhead, emergency lights flickered erratically, casting jagged shadows that danced across McCollum’s broad frame.
Jake stopped in front of a massive “gravity compressor.” This machine, a behemoth used to regulate the unstable core pressure in the mining area, was covered in dented steel plates and exposed wires, its core secured by thumb-thick bolts in a reinforced container. Repairing it was no easy task: the core weighed over 300 kilograms, and by standard procedure, it required a hydraulic crane, a four-person team, and a set of specialized tools. Jake had deliberately chosen this spot to test McCollum’s true nature—this was a task no human could handle alone.
“Alright, Old Mc,” Jake said with feigned casualness, patting McCollum on the shoulder, “it’s this compressor. The pressure’s been spiking all week—probably the core’s misaligned. You’re the expert, so give it a shot. We’ll back you up.” He stepped aside, gesturing toward the machine with a grin, though there was no warmth in his eyes.
McCollum nodded, his weathered face showing no trace of suspicion. He leaned his wooden staff against the wall—a prop he’d used for years, now carelessly discarded without a second glance—and approached the compressor. The rest of the team quietly spread out: Rebecca stood by a stack of crates, pretending to scribble on her clipboard; Lila crouched near a junction box, her fingers dancing over her homemade detector; Tara leaned against the tunnel wall, her steel blade spinning idly in her hand. All eyes were on McCollum.
He said nothing, reaching out to grip the container’s outer panel. His hands—calloused and scarred, as if telling the story of decades as a miner—hooked onto the edge. Then, with a single pull, he tore the reinforced alloy panel right off. The sharp screech of metal tearing echoed through the tunnel, jarring and eerie. The panel was so heavy an ordinary person couldn’t even lift it, yet in his hands, it was as light as paper. He tossed it aside with a flick, and it crashed to the ground with a deafening “clang,” kicking up a cloud of dust.
Jake’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained steady. “Nice start, McCollum, keep going.”
McCollum ignored him, leaning into the machine’s interior, his hands probing the core—a labyrinth of coils and pistons brimming with latent energy. The core itself was a massive cylinder of steel and magnetic plating, something that should have required a crane to move. But McCollum wrapped a single arm around it, his muscles barely tensing, and yanked it free. The core slid out of its housing with a low groan, revealing a tangle of broken wires beneath. His other hand darted in, stripping insulation, splicing wires, and rerouting power at a speed too fast for the eye to follow, his movements as precise as a surgeon’s, without a single wasted motion.
From the back, Lila’s detector suddenly erupted in a rapid series of “beeps.” She hissed under her breath, turning the screen toward Rebecca. “Electromagnetic readings are off the charts—three times the human baseline.” Rebecca gripped her clipboard tightly, her knuckles whitening, and shot Jake a look that seemed to say, “We were right.”
Tara adjusted her stance, her steel blade coming to a stop. “That core weighs more than all of us combined,” she muttered, her voice just loud enough for Jake to hear. “No one can move that—not even a gym freak.”
Jake couldn’t hold back any longer. He stepped forward, his voice a mix of shock and accusation. “What the hell are you, McCollum? That’s not a miner’s strength—tearing into a compressor like it’s a can of beans? You’re not human!”
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McCollum froze, his hands still buried in the machine. He slowly turned his head, locking eyes with Jake. Those eyes, usually warm with the weight of years, now glinted with an unnatural sharpness, like polished steel reflecting light. “It’s fixed, Jake,” he said calmly, his voice flat, lacking its usual roughness, carrying a mechanical coldness. “Don’t make a fuss.” He pulled his hands out, wiping them on his work clothes as if he’d just tightened a screw, not dismantled a machine that should have crushed him.
Before anyone could press further, a low rumble echoed from the depths of the tunnel. The ground jolted violently, and a deafening “boom” tore through the air. Rebecca whipped around, her clipboard clattering to the ground. “Explosives!” she shouted. Dust rained from the ceiling, cracks spreading across the rock above like a spiderweb. Massive boulders began to fall, crashing down with deadly force.
Jake dove for cover, thinking, McCollum’s exposed—but whatever he is, we’ve got to survive this trap first before dealing with him.
Tara reacted like lightning, her steel blade flashing in a cold arc, slicing through a falling boulder with a “bang,” debris flying everywhere. She roared, “Run! It’s a damn trap!” Her voice was barely out when another explosion rocked the tunnel, flames erupting from the depths, a scorching shockwave surging toward them. The blast’s power was beyond imagination—the rock walls tore apart as if ripped by an invisible giant hand. Amid the thunderous collapse, the tunnel’s exit was instantly sealed by falling boulders, dust and the smell of sulfur choking the air. The team was trapped in a deadly vise.
Lila clutched her detector tightly, her scream nearly drowned out by the roar. “The signal source cut off! Someone triggered this remotely!” She deliberately dropped the detector, turning to the collapsing tunnel with a look of terror as red lights flashed wildly. “It’s those damn cameras—they’ve been watching us the whole time!” Her voice dripped with despair. Jake grabbed her arm, trying to pull her back, but the sound of collapsing rock thundered closer from behind, cutting off their retreat. The air filled with the acrid smell of burning metal, rocks crashing down from above, each impact like the footsteps of death itself.
McCollum stood motionless in the same spot, eerily calm. His figure flickered in the firelight of the explosion, his head not even lowered, as if the disaster had nothing to do with him. His indifference was like a knife, piercing everyone’s hearts.
Just as a massive boulder was about to crush Lila, a steady voice cut through the chaos from the side. “This way!” Ethan Cross leapt out from an inconspicuous crack in the tunnel wall, pulse gun in hand, his face as calm as a rock in a storm. He rushed to a seemingly ordinary section of the rock wall in a few strides, slamming his palm against a hidden switch. With a “click,” a narrow emergency passage opened, faint light spilling from within like a thread of hope.
“Get in!” Ethan shouted, his voice as firm as steel. Rebecca was the first to dive for the passage, coughing as dust choked her, but she didn’t forget to glance back at Jake with a knowing look. Lila followed, grabbing her dropped detector and pretending to scramble in a panic. Jake hobbled after them, dragging his “injured” leg, cursing under his breath but moving with surprising agility. Tara, however, stopped, turning to face McCollum, her eyes blazing with fury, a cold smirk on her lips.
“You piece of junk, I am not so easy to kill!” she growled through gritted teeth, charging forward and slamming a vicious kick into McCollum’s chest with precise, brutal force. McCollum stumbled back, crashing into the collapsing rock wall, a flicker of mechanical confusion in his eyes before he was swallowed by a falling boulder, the deafening thud echoing as dust billowed, leaving only rubble behind.
Ethan grabbed Tara’s arm, barking in a low voice, “Don’t linger—move!” He dragged her into the emergency passage, the explosions roaring behind them like a beast, heat waves scorching their backs. The entire tunnel collapsed completely the moment they escaped, boulders piling into a mountain, dust spreading like a thick fog. Inside the passage, the narrow space was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, the firelight blocked outside. In that razor-thin margin between life and death, they had seized a faint glimmer of hope.
A few minutes later, the team emerged from the emergency passage onto the surface, standing on a dune in Ashen Valley, covered in dust but all wearing relaxed expressions. In the distance, the collapsed tunnel billowed with thick smoke, McCollum’s figure long buried. They gathered in a circle, their panting gradually subsiding, exchanging knowing looks.
Jake plopped down on the ground, gasping for air, wiping the dust off his face with a grin. “I told you, that old guy wasn’t human! Now we’ve finally taken care of him—Derek’s gotta be pissed!”
Rebecca brushed the dust off herself, smiling calmly. “Derek’s tricks are too predictable. He loves using these dirty tactics, thinking he can get away with it unnoticed.” She looked at Ethan, a spark of understanding in her eyes. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”
Ethan nodded, his tone steady. “From the day we found the first camera, I figured Federation Corp would pull something like this. Nick and I pretended to scout the B-3 area, digging this emergency passage and leaving the cameras untouched. I knew Derek would be watching our every move, waiting for the right moment to trigger a trap. Sure enough, he couldn’t hold back—he made his move today.”
Tara spat on the ground, slamming her steel blade into the sand, and flipped the middle finger at a nearby fly cam still blinking red. “See that, you little punk? Your shitty plan’s a pile of dog crap!” She grinned, showing a mouthful of bloodied teeth, her expression dripping with defiance.
Jake burst into laughter, jumping up and waving at the camera. “Hey, Derek, did they send a clown like you to mess with us? Go cry to your boss Kane, lol !” He made an exaggerated goofy face, making the nearby miners crack up as well.
Lila rolled her eyes, sauntering over to the camera and letting out a slow whistle, her face full of disdain. “lol, trash, you useless clown—come bite me! With that tiny brain, you think you can take us on?” She casually tossed a small rock at the camera, making the lens wobble.
A few watching miners joined in the taunting, shouting in crude slang. “Hey, you bastard up there, why don’t you come down and fight me? Useless coward!” “Your shitty bomb’s like a fart—stinks but does nothing!” They laughed hysterically, dancing around and mocking wildly.
