Deborah's POV
The first night after my resurrection was far from restful, more like an endless torment.
Not having taken any steps toward fulfilling Deborah and Maeve's wishes, I could already feel Necrobind beginning to turn on me.
The sensation was impossible to describe—like thousands of tiny ants gnawing away at my soul, each bite tearing deeper.
At the same time, it felt as though an invisible weight was crushing my chest, making it harder and harder to breathe, pulling me into a suffocating darkness.
I had no choice but to live according to the rules of Murias, at least outwardly, so no one would suspect that I wasn't the real Deborah.
At the same time, I needed to find a reasonable opportunity to go to Tirnanog.
The name Wellspring seemed to belong there, to that mysterious place, the one referred to as the "womb" of Murias, where nearly all women were sent to ensure the continuation of the human race—a process brutal in its reality.
Over a hundred years ago, Earth's magnetic field had shifted violently, leading to a total ecological collapse.
The atmosphere had torn apart, the ozone layer shattered, bringing forth extreme weather and constant natural disasters.
Species went extinct rapidly, ecosystems broke down, and human health suffered gravely. The population plummeted.
Fifty years ago, the five great families—Tairngire, Edwards, Blackwood, Vandran , and Lee—had come together to create five sky cities, their private sanctuaries, far above the devastation.
For them and their chosen elite these cities offered safety.
Those left on the surface, the so-called lower classes, were abandoned, oblivious to the sky cities' existence.
To sustain the lives of the remaining surface dwellers, the five families built five underground cities: Finias, Gorias, Falias, Avalon, and Murias, hoping to protect the population before the Enigma radiation claimed them all.
But Falshi, the last remaining energy source on Earth, had its own dangers.
The radiation was lethal to most, with only werewolves, witches, and priestly families able to withstand it.
And they had even left for the sky cities.
Despite my exhaustion and the restless night, I forced myself to get up early.
I dressed from the plain, uninspiring wardrobe and prepared to leave for Erius Institute.
It wasn't until I arrived that I learned Cora wasn't just my college classmate—she was also my colleague.
We both worked as researchers in the Life Breeding Department (LBD).
However, reality hit me hard as soon as I stepped inside.
Our department head, without a hint of sympathy, reassigned me to the Falshi Research Department (FRD).
As soon as the announcement was made, Cora rushed to defend me, even offering to have her father intervene, but I refused.
To most people, this transfer would seem like a disaster—Falshi's radiation was deadly, and ordinary humans couldn't bear it.
But to me, whether I was a priest or a witch, it posed no threat.
Besides, I knew nothing about Life Breeding, but Falshi… that was something I'd studied extensively in my previous life.
It was clear that Deborah hadn't been particularly liked in her department, maybe even deliberately mistreated by her superiors.
Apart from Cora, it seemed I had no allies.
Perhaps Deborah had once saved Cora's life, which explained her loyalty, even if Cora occasionally acted like a spoiled princess.
I gathered my things and moved to my new office in the FRD.
The department had only one researcher— Mark Wellspring.
Mark was a modest man, with slightly overgrown black hair and gold-rimmed glasses that framed his intense, knowledge-driven gaze.
His outfit was simple—a plaid shirt, worn casual pants, and dark shoes, clean despite their age.
He exuded a quiet, unassuming presence, blending into the background effortlessly.
Yet, there was a purity to him.
His focus was unwavering, entirely devoted to his work.
In his presence, my Telepathy felt muted—not because it failed, but because Mark's mind was so clear, so genuine, that there was nothing for me to read.
His office was a stark contrast to what I'd had before: old, shabby, and neglected.
"This department is practically defunct," Mark said. His voice was heavy with exhaustion, and while he didn't say much, I could tell from his slouched posture and sluggish movements that his health wasn't in the best shape.
"We can't figure out how Falshi actually becomes a usable resource. We know it gets shipped out of Murias and taken to the surface, but the Enigma radiation is so intense up there, no one ever comes back. I even volunteered to transport it myself, but they rejected me."
His eyes showed a deep hunger for knowledge, and I could relate. I told him how fascinated I was with Falshi, sharing my "findings" that Falshi generated energy when exposed to Enigma radiation and sunlight.
Most of that energy—99%—was sent to the sky cities, while only1% remained for the five underground cities. Naturally, I kept the truth about the sky cities to myself.
Mark was visibly shocked by what I told him, nearly speechless with excitement.
His passion for Falshi was clear; he was the kind of scientist who lived for discovery, for pushing the limits of what was known.
Later, Mark took me to see the Falshi Quarry for the first time.
Before we left, he warned me again about the radiation, urging me to be cautious.
When I finally stepped into the quarry, I nearly stopped breathing.
The sight was breathtaking.
Falshi glimmered like emeralds, each one translucent and glowing faintly in the dark.
The entire quarry was bathed in a soft, green fluorescence, enough to light up the space without the need for lamps.
The glow was far brighter than anything I'd seen at Mantis Bar, casting a dreamlike, mesmerizing beauty over everything.
Mark explained how the quarry operated.
There were 5,000 workers here, divided into three groups: those who mined, those who transported, and those who packed the Falshi.
He carefully avoided terms like "slave class," but it was clear from his tone that he valued all life equally, refusing to see the workers as anything less.
As he spoke, my gaze wandered, and I locked eyes with a worker passing by— Matthew.
In that fleeting moment, our eyes met, and I could almost hear the sudden rush of his heartbeat, feel the surge of excitement and joy radiating from him.