Deep within the rift zone, bluish-purple light distorted the air, as if the entire mining sector had been swallowed by an invisible storm. A deep, rumbling hum reverberated through the air, expanding with every tremor. From the cracks in the ground, waves of searing energy surged forth, and the surrounding rock walls trembled with a disturbing, continuous shudder.
Ethan clenched his fists, the blue glow of his energy shield enveloping his body. The scene before him resembled an ever-encroaching nightmare, with energy waves surging from the depths of the rift, crashing against his shield with a sharp, cracking sound. The light of the shield had already begun to dim.
"Shield energy remaining: 10%." The system's voice echoed in his mind, as cold and detached as if it were merely announcing a judgment.
Ethan took a deep breath, his gaze fixed unwaveringly ahead. Behind a pile of collapsed rocks, a miner lay curled up. His protective suit was torn, and blood seeped from the cracks, forming a dark red pool on the ground. His hands were tightly clutching his head, his body trembling as if he were a wild animal cornered by a hunter.
"Don't move! I'm coming to get you!" Ethan shouted, his voice low but resolute.
The miner heard him and lifted his head. His face was caked in dust, pale skin marked by fine streaks of blood. Fear and despair mixed in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
"Grab my hand!" Ethan rushed forward, expanding his shield's range to cover the miner. The shield's alert tone rang out as the blue light flickered, struggling against the rift's energy waves.
"Shield energy remaining: 5%."
Ignoring the warning, Ethan grabbed the miner and hauled him onto his shoulder. The miner's body was light, almost like a hollow skeleton. He gasped for air, his voice hoarse: "My Lord… you shouldn't have come…"
"Enough talk. You can thank me later when we're out of here," Ethan muttered, his voice carrying an undeniable sense of authority.
The hum of the rift grew louder, the bluish-purple light flashing erratically like bolts of lightning. Ethan steadied the miner and turned, sprinting toward the exit. The edges of his shield were starting to crack, and with every step, it felt as though the energy was draining from him.
"System, find the fastest escape route!" he barked into his mind.
"Pathway calculation complete. Estimated time of escape: 20 seconds. Shield expected to fail within 15 seconds." The system responded calmly.
Ethan gritted his teeth. "Looks like I'll have to take a gamble."
He tightened his grip on the miner and pushed his legs to the limit, accelerating. The rift's energy surged behind him like a tidal wave, pressing closer with every step. His boots pounded the trembling ground, the surface threatening to break apart at any moment.
Just as his shield was about to fail, Ethan broke through the rift's boundary. Scalding air hit his face as he gently laid the miner on the ground, his own body collapsing beside him, gasping for air.
"We got him out!"
"He really brought him back!"
The miners gathered outside the rift burst into low, astonished murmurs. They looked at the rescued miner and the disheveled Ethan, expressions shifting from shock to a complicated silence. For a moment, no one spoke; it was as if the air itself had frozen.
But this silence didn't last long. A loud voice cut through the crowd: "So what if you brought him out? What's next? Will you save the rest of us? Can you bring the dead back to life?"
Everyone turned to see a tall, bald miner standing at the front of the crowd, gripping a rusted shovel. His face was filled with anger, his gaze fixed on Ethan.
"Holt…" Damon muttered under his breath, worry evident in his eyes.
Ethan sat up, brushing off the dust from his clothes. He looked coldly at Holt. "Speak your mind."
Holt tightened his grip on the shovel and gritted his teeth. "My Lord, what you did today was right, saving that man. But why do we have to risk our lives to dig these rifts? Why are we still working with these broken-down tools? Why are miners like us just pawns, traded for profit?"
His voice wavered between anger and sorrow, and his emotion quickly spread to the surrounding miners. The crowd began murmuring, voices of discontent growing louder.
"Yeah, how are we supposed to live like this?"
"We work ourselves to death, and this is what we get!"
Ethan listened to Holt without interrupting, allowing the voices to rise and fall. When the noise finally died down, he slowly stood up, his gaze sweeping across the angry faces.
"You think I don't care about your lives, don't you?" His voice was low but held a pressure that made the air seem thick. "You think I'm one of those nobles sitting in the Federation, drinking wine and eating well, don't you?"
The miners didn't respond, but their silence said it all.
Ethan stepped forward, coming face to face with Holt. His voice was as cold as ice: "You're wrong. I'm here today, personally entering the rift to save someone, not because I owe you. But because it is my responsibility. My life and your lives are equally tied to Dustfall."
Holt's expression froze, his lips trembling but no words came.
Ethan gave him a quick glance, then continued: "The equipment is garbage, that's a fact. Life is hard, that's another fact. But anger won't save you, and curses won't change anything. If you want to live, follow my lead."
He paused, locking eyes with Holt. "If you don't agree, step up. Tell me your solution. Or—pick up your shovel and strike me down."
Holt's hand trembled slightly. He glanced down at his shovel and then around at the faces of the miners. The expressions of those who had once followed him in anger were now filled with hesitation and expectation. Finally, he sighed, letting the shovel fall to the ground.
"My Lord… I yield." His voice was low, tinged with a mixture of emotions.
Ethan walked up to him and gave his shoulder a firm pat. His voice was calm: "You can yield, but I need you to work for the miners, not waste your strength here."
Holt nodded silently, saying no more.
When the unrest finally settled, Ethan returned to the lord's estate, sitting quietly at his desk. He stared at the holographic map in front of him, his brow furrowed in thought.
"The energy fluctuations in the rift are abnormal. This data is more complex than any previous readings," the system's voice echoed in his mind.
Ethan didn't immediately respond. He traced his fingers across the desk, deep in thought. After a few moments, he spoke softly, "System, where did you really come from?"
The system fell silent for a moment before responding: "Dustfall Lord Assistant System, designed to help the user optimize resources and manage crises."
Ethan let out a small laugh, a hint of sarcasm in his voice: "Seems like my real crisis is only just beginning."
Outside the window, the rift's light flickered faintly in the night, like some creature's slow, rhythmic breath.