Rufus, who had never witnessed an explosion before—not even in the expansion level where they were relatively common—found himself utterly taken aback. Alarmed to the highest degree, every hair on his body stood on end, as if he were facing mortal peril.
He let out a cry of shock.
But his reaction was tempered by those around him.
In this vast storage area, where it seemed there were endless workshops in operation, few were distracted by the sound of the explosion. Some approached, but they did little more than that. They observed the scene, their gazes detached.
Rufus even caught a few eyes fixed on him, seemingly questioning the nature of his reaction. This only deepened his surprise, along with a hint of shame. Judging by the way things unfolded, it became evident that he was the only one worried—meaning there was no reason to be.
He wasn't a genius or even particularly sharp, but the fact that he had secured this position among so many others in the world as it was today spoke to a certain resourcefulness on his part.
He quickly worked to regulate his emotions, though emotional control wasn't his strong suit either. Surprise became the sole expression he wore as he approached someone nearby to inquire about the situation.
"It seems like this isn't the first time," he remarked to a man standing nearby, holding a saw in hand. "But what exactly is going on?"
"Tchiii…" replied the man with a faint curse caught in his throat. "It's just one of Raphael's experiments gone wrong. Nothing to worry about. Look…"
As he spoke, Rufus noticed that, at some point, a swarm of insects—flies or mosquitoes, he couldn't quite tell—had drawn near and entered the expanding flames.
Under the young man's astonished gaze, wherever the swarm passed, the fire silently disappeared, as if erased. The display continued for some time. Rufus didn't miss a second of it, unlike most others, who had already turned back to their respective tasks.
Raphael emerged from the still-burning room, utterly nonchalant. Dust covered his body, yet the flames hadn't so much as singed his clothing. He glanced around with a gaze completely devoid of interest in what he saw.
Still, he eventually noticed Rufus. His eyes lingered on him for a brief moment before shifting elsewhere. Moments later, he approached Rufus but passed him, heading to the back to retrieve an object, which he tucked into one of the many pockets of his outfit.
An instant later, he retraced his steps, heading back toward the burning workshop. By the time he set foot inside again, the flames had entirely vanished.
Rufus, who had witnessed it all, didn't know what to make of it or what to think. He hesitated for a moment before deciding to enter the workshop himself, noticing that others were doing so without concern.
The interior space was immaculate. It would have been hard to believe an explosion had occurred here mere minutes ago unless one had witnessed it firsthand. The swarm moved about, deftly avoiding anything in motion. After their passage, the areas they touched regained their pristine state, erasing all traces of an unpleasant event.
To an outsider unfamiliar with the phenomenon, it might have looked like a time-reversal device at work. Once covered by the swarm, the materials in question returned to their original form. Once again, Rufus was the only one awestruck, while the others barely paid attention.
"You missed your delivery earlier…" Raphael reminded the young man, abruptly pulling him out of his reverie. "Those people at Quintis won't go easy on you," he added as he inserted the material he had retrieved earlier into a gear. By then, the swarm had already disappeared.
"I had to go upstairs for an urgent matter," Rufus defended himself. "Besides, I sent a note to Harchey to let him know…"
On his way to Raphael's workshop, Rufus handed over the delivery meant for them directly.
"Hey, Raph, can you take a look at the vehicle?" the young man suddenly asked.
"Is there a problem? It hasn't even been six months since I gave it to you—it shouldn't have any issues. Anyway, where is it? If you've damaged it, I'll make you regret it."
Rufus managed a strained smile at those words. It hadn't taken him long in this environment to align with its principles and hierarchy. Raphael was absolutely not someone he could afford to offend.
He brought the vehicle around.
It was a two-wheeled machine. The concept was similar to a motorcycle from a bygone era, though its execution differed in some aspects. The tires were replaced with glowing discs, which converted the kinetic energy generated by movement directly into mechanical energy used for propulsion. It was a closed circuit, requiring no processing engine.
The alloy, meanwhile, was made of a recent material—sturdy yet lightweight. The control system bore little difference from its predecessors. Depending on the environment, the "bike" could operate autonomously. The passenger would only become the driver if they truly wished to.
In truth, it was a technological marvel crafted by Raphael's hands. He had entrusted it to Rufus for a particular reason when the young man's mother had come to the lower levels seeking his support.
"Keep in mind why you have it," Raphael reminded him after finishing his inspection. "You've got many tasks left to complete, or I won't be able to shield you from the consequences."
Rufus remained silent for a moment, his gaze pensive, his expression revealing a certain apprehension.
"I'll remember that," was all he could muster in response, his tone flat. He almost looked like a child being scolded by an older sibling. From an outsider's perspective, it might have been a strange sight, given that the two were practically the same height. In fact, they were almost the same age, with Raphael being only slightly older.
Yet, things were as they were. Everyone had their place and their role to play. They say maturity comes with age, but listening to these two talk, one might think their age difference was multiplied tenfold.
Once Raphael had finished his inspection, he handed control back to the young man, who set off again. Rufus still had an important delivery to make, and it promised to be far from easy.
It didn't take Rufus long to regain his usual cheerfulness as he sped toward the elevator. He would undoubtedly have loved to take the trip to the uppermost level while driving, but such a route didn't yet exist—it would be a challenge to construct, anyway.
Life underground is a situation difficult to grasp unless one experiences it firsthand. This way of living brought with it unique physical and mental challenges that could only truly be understood by living them.
And yet, no one was a stranger to this way of life. Humanity had long since experienced its first collapse, and this was the result. After that, underground living had boomed, with no economy in the last millennium developing as rapidly as this one. Still, these cycles were typically short—days or weeks, with few longer durations recorded publicly due to the far greater risks involved.
But this time, things were different.
Rufus finally reached the lowest level, known internally as Quintis but commonly nicknamed "Last Vorsus."
He set off immediately, quickly arriving at the warehouse where drillers were working tirelessly.
Judging by the atmosphere upon his arrival, this delivery would be far more grueling than the previous one.
Admiring the 'sky' adorned with stars, Raphael lost himself in thought.
He had just completed several days of grueling work, and now his body could no longer keep up. For all his brilliance as an inventor and his dedication as a worker, the limits of his body were entirely natural. After several days of intense activity, the effects of accumulated fatigue became insurmountable, with even repeated cups of tea failing to make a difference.
The streets were nearly deserted at this time of night.
As he wandered, almost home, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. He burst out laughing in the middle of the street, drawing strange looks from the few passersby still outside, though he didn't care.
"So that's what I need! I just have to create a new reactor!" he shouted, grinning from ear to ear. He'd just had a breakthrough in his project, and his joy was immense.
One might think that the false stars in the 'sky' had inspired him.
After a moment, he calmed down and resumed his journey. Before long, he reached his home.
The moment he stepped onto the porch, the door opened automatically.
The sight inside was somewhat surprising.
The house was in disarray. Clothes were strewn everywhere, an unpleasant smell greeted him from the doorway, and dirty dishes sat piled in the sink. It almost looked as though a battle—or a robbery—had taken place here.
Yet Raphael wasn't the least bit surprised.
In truth, he didn't spend much time living here. Most of the clothes on the floor belonged to his sister. This residence belonged to both of them, but Raphael spent most of his time in his workshop since taking responsibility for it.
He was well aware of his sister's habits, so none of this seemed unnatural to him. Still, he had imagined she would have made some effort, given that she had a guest staying recently.
He was sorely mistaken; habits die hard.
On that note, his sister was clearly not home.
He slowly began tidying up in his own way. The house was fairly large, so it took him a while to restore it to a somewhat welcoming state.
Once done, he sprawled out on the first comfortable surface he found and closed his eyes.
Lulled by the hum of nearby turbines, he fell asleep immediately.
The environment was quite noisy, but it didn't bother him in the slightest.
This was to be expected.
The residence was located on the second underground level: the infrastructure floor.
This entire installation was essentially an inverted tower stretching kilometers into the depths, constantly evolving over time.
To date, there were five levels—or underground floors—each with a specific name.
The first underground floor, the largest, housed most human facilities, including residences and accommodations. It was referred to by the population as Solis.
Next came the second underground floor, Gemis, home to recreational facilities and infrastructure supporting the first level. Though slightly smaller in area, it was just as busy as Solis.
Then there was the third underground floor, Triax. This was the support level, hosting various installations necessary for hygiene and health. The general kitchens and the hospital were located here.
In the initial plans for this inverted tower's design and construction, Triax was meant to be the final level. Together, these floors were designed to meet all the essential needs of the installation.
But plans were meant to change; things didn't always go as intended.
Such was the case here.
Thus, not one but two additional levels had been constructed since the recent arrival of the current occupants. The reason for this was, of course, the cataclysm.
In an urgent effort to expand and address immediate issues, the fourth underground floor, Quadra, was developed. It was much smaller in area, especially compared to the three preceding levels. This floor housed the metallurgy workshop and the grand incinerator.
The creation of this level greatly aided in resolving the immediate crisis. However, it also prompted the overseers to consider the future. The outlook was grim, and they recognized the necessity of continuing to develop further below.
This led to the fifth and final underground floor, Quintis. It did not yet house any significant infrastructure. Its layout was simple, with foundations that were still unstable.
The escape that this inverted tower had once represented during its creation and initial use had now transformed into confinement. At this stage, survival was paramount as resources dwindled. Expansion became a stopgap solution to a larger problem.
To return to the surface.
To reclaim the outside world.
This project was by no means impossible, but it was fraught with risks and uncertainties.
After a cataclysm of such magnitude that it forced entire peoples to retreat underground, was life outside still the same?
The surface had always been somewhat hostile to humanity, but what was it like now?
Raphael jolted awake as a distant murmur slipped into his mind from the world of dreams. A now-familiar shiver ran down his spine as beads of sweat trickled from his face.
He often had these nightmares—remnants of a past era.
He stood and splashed water on himself. The weariness didn't just linger on his face.
After cleaning himself, he dressed again, this time ceremonially. He hadn't returned to Gemis just to rest; he also had a scheduled meeting with the council.
He left the house as the door closed automatically behind him.
The 'sky' seemed to display the first hints of dawn. Day was breaking, a soft breeze blew gently, and the red-orange hues of the sun's early rays painted the horizon. The moon retreated to its rest as the sun rose, marking the start of a new day.
It all seemed so real, so tangible, that most inhabitants managed to convince themselves it was real—that it wasn't just a holographic projection or some other imaging mechanism.
After spending so long in such a place, what else could they do?
Raphael paid it no mind, unmoved by the display. He knew the mechanism behind such an illusion—he even helped maintain it.
Moreover, how could one be moved by sunlight when aware of its dangers? He wasn't the sort of dreamer to be swayed by such things.
He soon arrived at the foot of a building that stood out from the rest, even in this unusual environment.
The walls were like a fortress, rising dozens of meters high. They were covered with a variety of flowers, branching out like a web. A floral aroma filled the air, soft and delicate, intoxicating to the senses.
The door, an automatic system, only became visible as one approached. Made of a gleaming alloy, it served merely as the back entrance.
This was the leisure space—a garden-like environment. It spanned nearly half of Gemis and was the most significant infrastructure in the entire complex.
It offered the residents of this underground world an escape, a breath of fresh air, a chance to dream. Everything here was designed for that purpose.
Raphael finally reached the meeting room, where a dozen seats were already occupied. Only four remained vacant, and he took one of them.
The seated individuals were engaged in discussions on various topics. Raphael could pick up parts of some conversations, while others remained murmurs or whispers. For his part, he merely observed, having few people to speak to.
"Shall we begin?"
A deep, commanding voice resonated through the room, originating from one of the seats at the far end.
The assembly instantly fell silent. Even Raphael, who had seemed indifferent, straightened slightly, his attention fixed on the head of the table where the voice addressed them.
"I see there are still three vacant seats. I understand the reason for one, but what of the other two?" the voice continued, monotone and devoid of any inflection.
"Harchey sends their apologies for being unable to attend today. They are facing issues with the tunnel's progress. Their report should arrive shortly and will be forwarded to you promptly," replied one of the attendees without hesitation. This speaker was seated a few chairs away from the initial orator—a middle-aged man with a rather rotund figure, his rounded cheeks making Raphael picture a piglet.
The thought made Raphael smile.
Moments later, glances shifted toward him.
He nearly choked on his laughter.
"My sister… I mean, Amanise is in isolation conducting critical research. She will attend as soon as she reaches a conclusive result," Raphael announced flatly.
A few curses could be heard from different corners of the long table. Raphael barely cared and redirected his focus to the figure preparing to speak again.
"I've been informed, however, that she hasn't been seen in days—not even in her laboratory… No matter. I'll expect her report in due time," the voice said, this time laced with barely veiled irony. Then, continuing without pause: "Brad, you may begin!"
"Thank you, sir. Dear department heads, it's a pleasure." Brad, a middle-aged man with a stern expression, began speaking.
"Today marks three years, nine months, and fifteen days since we sought refuge within the oasis."
"As a reminder, the purpose of this meeting is to reach a consensus on the next steps regarding expansion and returning to the surface."
"Before addressing these topics, I will provide a brief update on the various events occurring on each level."
He cleared his throat, adjusting his tie as he spoke, further emphasizing his serious demeanor. Raphael watched him with half an eye while idly playing with a coin under the table.
"As you are likely already aware, the state of the inverted tower continues to deteriorate. Nearly every level now faces challenges that demand immediate attention."
"Within Solis, complaints persist. Protests grow by the day, and a general weariness is palpable. The routine of recent years seems to be generating anxiety in an increasing number of individuals."
"The central ventilation system briefly stopped functioning again two days ago. Overuse cannot be ruled out as a cause."
"Additionally, the deep flu has resurfaced, spreading this time in an alarming manner."
The assembly listened to the speaker's monotone report with religious attentiveness, showing almost no reaction.
"The temperature in Gemis has risen by a few degrees, with some devices already showing minor signs of overheating. Overall, the infrastructure is degrading, with Gemis acting as a buffer for these issues."
"The kitchen sector in Triax has reported once again that they have begun consuming resources from the third warehouse. Food stocks are dwindling faster than previously anticipated."
"Quadra and Quintis, being exploration levels, face more specific difficulties, which will be discussed with their respective supervisors."
"This concludes the report."
Raphael, learning nothing new from the report, stood up before the other could sit and began speaking, drawing the assembly's attention to him.
"I need additional funding. Furthermore, my workforce is insufficient," he stated.
At his intervention, another member of the assembly spoke up, addressing him:
"We have already allocated all available volunteers to you, most of whom you rejected outright. Not to mention the funding—your requests are endless, yet the results are barely visible."
"I'm telling all of you here—is it really ideal to entrust the maintenance of our vital infrastructure to this man? I have no doubt about his skills, but it's clear that the resources expended are not proportional to the progress achieved..."
The man's animosity toward Raphael was barely concealed, and several around the table seemed to share his sentiments regarding the request.
"Why not prioritize re-establishing contact with other stations? Once we've managed to reconnect, we could surely obtain assistance, whether for repairing our station or returning to the surface."
He continued his argument, highlighting the advantages of his reasoning while taking every opportunity to criticize Raphael.
Raphael was the only openly recognized competent technician in the station. His interventions to date had resolved countless infrastructure and technological issues. He had even played a notable role in the expansion efforts of recent years. This was how he earned his seat on the council, despite some believing he didn't deserve it.
In reality, his skills and value were beyond doubt. Yet, he remained far from universally accepted.
Where there are humans, power struggles are never absent—the desire not to cede an advantage, even when collaboration is necessary. This station was no exception.
Raphael listened to the ramblings of the old man, as he thought of him in his mind—though in reality, the man was an unremarkable middle-aged individual. Once the man finished, Raphael spoke again:
"We all know the difficult situation we're in. I've done my best to maintain the current state of our vital infrastructure, but I need greater funding. The resources allocated to me so far are insufficient if I'm to make a decisive breakthrough."
"Just yesterday, I failed again in the reactor's design. I'm getting tired of this. You can all see what's happening while some here amuse themselves by hindering my progress."
His gaze swept the room, resting briefly on certain individuals, ignoring the previous speaker entirely, before he sat back down, half retreating into his thoughts.
Reactions were immediate. Some showed discontent, others disdain. He was largely correct, but that didn't stop people from harboring resentment toward him.
The man at the end of the table sat with his eyes half-closed, his thoughts inscrutable—an exercise Raphael had stopped attempting long ago.
Raphael's intervention had heated the room, sparking palpable animosity. The meeting became livelier, with sharp tensions among the members.
For his part, Raphael said no more, speaking only briefly when directly questioned. The meeting dragged on for some time.
...
"That meeting was an utter waste of time. Those old fools act as if the current crisis doesn't concern them."
"Let them all rot." He muttered, walking through the botanical garden.
The meeting had ended not long ago, and he was preparing to head back. He needed to return to his workshop.
A garden was located on this floor, filled with all kinds of flowers. Their diversity was dizzying to occasional explorers.
Raphael observed the garden as he walked through it, a sense of weariness evident in his gaze. He wasn't responsible for maintaining this space, but he was familiar with nearly all its inhabitants.
There were, admittedly, an astonishing number of them, but it was still a finite number.
He quickly crossed the garden, making his way toward the exit of this domain.
The artificial sky above remained bright, glittering with stars at night and simulating the warmth of morning during the day. Its structure was peculiar. While Raphael understood how it worked, the thought of it breaking down gave him a headache.
He walked the streets, reflecting on the meeting.
The current situation was dire.
The station was collapsing in on itself over time, far faster than solutions were being implemented.
The worst part was their ongoing struggle to establish contact with other stations.
Ever since they had taken refuge here—due to a series of unfortunate events—their transmission antennas had been damaged. For now, they were entirely unusable.
As a result, they were left with no choice but to rely solely on their own capabilities to survive until a concrete solution could be implemented. It had been this way for years. Fortunately, Raphael's presence had given them a glimmer of hope. His expertise had opened up new possibilities for survival and eventual return.
But ultimately, he had his limits. The station's archives weren't as detailed as he would have liked.
In short, things weren't looking very promising.
Raphael was still mulling over these thoughts as he walked toward his home when a familiar voice from the side snapped him out of his reverie.
"My idiot little brother should really learn to watch where he's going."
He turned, smiled, and responded in turn:
"Shut up, you old hag!"