Lightdown Colonies

The bunk above Kael rattled like it might shake loose from the wall. His cellmate was kicking and muttering in his sleep. Every sound echoed in the steel box they called a room, bouncing off the walls until it felt like the noise lived inside Kael’s skull.

“Marco!” Kael growled, but voice low.

“Go fuck yourself, tree!” Marco snapped from the top bunk, as if he were awake the whole time. The mattress groaned as he shifted, then his heel slammed against the frame, sending another jolt down to Kael.

Kael pressed his palms over his ears. It didn’t help. The lights overhead never fully dimmed, the air always loud with machinery, and his bunkmate never knew silence.

He thought of Mira. Of the fields at dawn, quiet except for the wind moving through the crops. The smell of harvest. That was real silence. That was the life stolen from him the moment he’d opened his mouth in the town square.

Another kick rattled the frame. Kael sat up slowly, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk. His bare feet touched cold steel. For a moment, the noise stopped. The cell held its breath. Then a horn blared somewhere down the corridor, long and harsh, summoning the prisoners to shift. Doors clanged open one by one, the sound rolling like thunder.

Marco dropped down from the top bunk with a thud, blue hair hanging in his face. He smirked at Kael.

“How’d you sleep, tree. Shitty day already?”

Kael ignored him, standing slowly. A guard’s shadow stretched across the threshold, baton tapping against his leg.

“Out. Line up for shift assignments.”

They shuffled into the corridor, joining the stream of prisoners funneling toward the assignment deck. The air stank of sweat, the same stench every morning. The ceiling lights buzzed, too bright for what was supposed to be dawn. At the assignment desk, guards shouted names and work orders. Prisoners were sorted into groups. Each name called was followed by the dull stomp of tired feet.

Kael heard his name called. “Veynar. Mining shift.”

Marco was right behind him. “Snyde. Mining shift.”

Marco’s head snapped up. “ I’m doing this again? I spent twelve shitty hours down there yesterday!”

The guard smirked. “Maybe if you weren’t dragging half your gut around, you wouldn’t be whining, pig!”

His face darkened beneath his blue hair. His fists clenched like he was ready to swing, Another guard’s baton tapped against his palm in warning. “Keep mouthing off, Snyde. I’ll personally have you shoveling slag for a whole day.”

Kael watched Marco, anger boiling just beneath the surface. He muttered something foul under his breath but shuffled forward anyway.

“Guess we’re married to the damned rocks again, Tree.”

The mess hall had rows of prisoners hunched over metal trays. Guards leaned against the walls with batons crossed, eyes bored but sharp. On the screens above, his face appeared. Warden Calder Veyric. Every morning he spoke as though an entire world lived for his words.

“Prisoners of New Dawn,” his voice boomed, “Through your labor, the Six Worlds prosper. Through your sacrifice, you earn redemption.”

He always said redemption like it was a prize waiting at the end of the tunnel. Calder was old, late fifties maybe. His beard was always trimmed, white as bone, matching the crown of hair slicked close against his skull. His skin was dark, he had pointed ears and his eyes glowed pale green — unsettling. The black uniform stretched flawless across his frame, the Dawn insignia gleaming over his chest. He looked like a councilman dressed for a ceremony.

Marco stabbed at his tray with a bent fork. “Today mine will taste like rat shit.”

He grinned at Kael. “What about you, Tree? Yours gonna taste like anything good today?”

Food was food. Complaining only made the hunger louder. Kael shoveled the gray paste into his mouth, chewed once, swallowed. This was the way of the Lightdown, but now they call it the New Dawn. One of four prison hulks orbiting the dead worlds. Only the worst of the worst came here; the killers, the raiders, the monsters too wild to cage at home. But Kael knew better. He’d been sent up for opening his mouth. Speaking truth wasn’t a crime on Mira, not until the quotas broke whole villages. Then words became rebellion, and rebellion was punished by silence. The kind only space could give.

Ten worlds circled the Light. Six were alive, fed and clothed by the labor of their neighbors. Four were dead, stripped of crops and rivers, burned hollow. That was the story, anyway — that the four worlds had poisoned themselves, that the prisons above were built to make use of wasted rock. Kael had grown up hearing it, same as everyone. The six lords pointed to the 4 prisons and called them justice. They pointed to the markets overflowing with ore and fuel and called it prosperity.

“What’s all this noise!!” Sergeant Drax Halden barked, voice carrying like a cannon blast. Drax was built like a wall of scar tissue , square jaw, one ear half-missing, a throat thick from years of shouting men into the ground. His skin was the color of iron dust, his head shaved smooth, and a jagged scar split his lip so every word looked like a snarl. Prisoners hated him because he was loud enough to make your bones vibrate and mean enough to laugh when the collars dropped someone twitching on the floor. He prided himself on being heard over a hundred steel trays and a hundred grumbling stomachs, he made sure every man in that hall remembered who owned their lives.

“Mining girls with me!” Drax said. “I want you sexy ladies lined up before I count to three, and you know I can’t count past two!”

The room shifted into uneasy motion as prisoners rose. Guards moved through the rows, snapping shock collars shut with sharp metallic clicks. The cold weight locked against Kael’s throat, the collar was humming like an insect under his skin. Marco winced when his collar clicked on, then tilted his head, flashing his teeth at the guard.

“What the fuck man?,” Marco snapped, “don’t break my neck before the rocks do.”

The guard slammed the baton against Marco’s chest, forcing him back in line.

Drax had a laugh from the front. “Keep the fat one close, boys,” Drax said. “This one’s always got spirit”

“Keep your mouth shut,” Kael told Marco.

They were herded down the corridor toward the docking bay. The shuttle waited like a hungry animal. Inside, rows of steel seats lined the bay, harnesses waiting. The doors sealed. Engines started. The shuttle lurched, tearing away from the station, rattling through the atmosphere. Kael’s gut turned heavy in the pull of gravity. Through a window in the small shuttle, the world of Halora once again rose to meet them, a desert world scoured by storms, dust devils crawling across its cracked skin.

Marco leaned close, grinning despite the sweat on his brow. “One day I’ll break this leash, Tree. Walk free down there. Like Escanor did.”

Kael said nothing. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Halora. The dead world stretched wide below, and in its shadows, he even thought he saw movement. The people of Halora were miners before they died out a while back, and they were said to have once lived underground for generations.

The shuttle’s ramp slammed down into the dirt, coughing steam. Kael stumbled out with the others, like livestock. The air was hot.

Drax Holden stood at the front of the line, boots spread wide,

“Alright, girls!” Drax’s voice thundered, “Same piece of shit, and same dirty ass toilet. I want the shiny blue rocks, I want the big black rocks with lumps.”

Drax grinned, or maybe snarled—it was hard to tell. “You grab one of those rocks for yourself, I’ll know. And when I know, I’ll make you scream louder than a birthing mother .”

He lifted two thick fingers. “Two things. One: crystals go to me. Two: blackstone in the blackstone carts. Anything else, find an un-marked cart”

Kael lowered his eyes, but he didn’t miss the way a few prisoners exchanged quick glances. Drax’s rules were a joke, every prisoner knew it. Men slipped shards into their boots, and sometimes even tucked rare stones beneath their tongues. A crooked chain always followed; A guard would look the other way, for a price. Guards would help stone pass to an engineer, then down again to smugglers who knew how to move things between ships. Payment wasn’t in credits because those meant nothing under New Dawn’s choke. It was in contraband, or in scraps from home worlds that prisoners would kill for: simple things like a cigarette from Dravon, or real deadly items like the tiny poisonous knives from Solace. Kael had never risked it. He didn’t trust the game. But he knew the network was there, running under the guards’ boots like a second set of tunnels. Maybe one day he’d need it.

Kael’s grip tightened on the rusted handle of his pick. The cavern yawned ahead of them, wide enough to swallow small mountains, shafts vanishing into endless dark. They’d been hacking at it since he came in the Dawn. It had been seven months straight now, deeper and deeper, chasing veins of glowing crystals that seemed to stretch on forever.

A shout split the cavern. A boulder had come loose from the ceiling, slamming into a prisoner farther down the shaft. The man disappeared in a spray of dust. When it cleared, his legs were a mangled mess pinned under the slab. His screams scared everyone.

“Not again,” Drax muttered. Then he let out a laugh.“Guess the cave’s hungry today.”

The guards hurried down, boots crunching. Two wrestled at the rock while another tried to calm the prisoner. Kael kept his eyes fixed on his pick, but every swing felt heavier. The air reeked of copper.

“Drag him up to the softies,” Drax called, not even glancing at the broken man. “They’ll find a use for what’s left.”

The prisoner’s sobs cut into Kael’s chest as they hauled him away, leaving a dark smear across the stone. Drax spun on the staring men, his scarred lip curling.

“What are you lookin’ at? Rocks don’t dig themselves!” His voice cracked like a whip, and the prisoners bent back to their labor. He stalked past Kael, looming. Then his hand shot up, pointing above Kael’s head.

“Watch out! another one’s comin’ down on ya!”

Kael froze, heart kicking hard against his ribs. He glanced up, breath caught. Nothing. Drax doubled over, roaring, it was the sound of fierce laughter, louder than the injured man’s cries had minutes before.

“dumbass!!” he howled. “Thought you’d piss yourself!”

The guards chuckled.

“You think that’s funny?” Drax said, cutting the guards chuckles short.

He stepped toward them.

“We lose a body, and you’re laughin’ like kids at a puppet show?”

Silence. One of the guards shifted on his boots. Drax jabbed a finger at them.

“Go get me another pair of hands. Don’t care where from. Find me some bastard pushin’ a broom or scraping slag. Drag him down here.” His grin slanted wide, all teeth.

The guards hesitated a moment, then hurried off toward the small shuttle. Drax spat in the dust and turned back to the prisoners.

“You hear me, girls? Nobody gets to watch, nobody gets to rest. You dig, or you die. That’s the only trade worth makin’ down here.”

He let his glare sweep the cavern before it locked on Kael again.

“And you– don’t look so shaken. Next time, maybe it won’t be a joke.”

Kael gripped his pick tighter, forcing his eyes back to the stone. Beside him, Marco puffed out a laugh through his nose, fat shoulders heaving as he swung his own pick.

“Fuck that guy.” he said.

The clang of metal against rock filled the space between them. Marco leaned closer, lowering his voice.

“This is exactly why Escanor ran from this hell-hole.”

Kael responded, but he kept his eyes on the wall. “Escanor’s dead.”

“Maybe,” Marco grinned, sweat shining on his round face. “But maybe not. Bet he’s eatin’ roasted meat and laughin’ his ass off at us right now.”

Kael gave him a sidelong look. “If Escanor was really out there he would have a hard time finding roasted meat.”

Marco snorted, swinging harder. “Better than starving in here.”

The horn blared again. Guards shouted, and the line shifted deeper into the cavern. The air grew hotter. Kael’s boots slipped on the dust-slick slope as they pressed farther in. Marco huffed and cursed, his bulk wobbling with each step. The cavern narrowed, shadows swallowing them as they pushed toward the veins where the best loot was said to be. Then footsteps slapped against the stone behind them. A prisoner came running, breath ragged, trying to catch up.

“Wait!!” he wheezed, eyes wide in the lamp glow. “Don’t leave me back here!”

The guards yelled at him to move faster, he caught up, guards shoved him into the line beside Kael and Marco. The newcomer stumbled into place, bent double and sucking air like his lungs were torn. Kael caught the flicker of lamp-light on his face, hollow cheeks, sharp nose, eyes too bright for someone who looked half-dead.

Marco smirked. “Well, look at this slag eater.”

The prisoner’s gaze darted to Marco, then to Kael, then down again. His lips moved like he was whispering something only he could hear.

Drax’s voice started again from up ahead. “That him? That’s what you brought me?”

The guards shoved the man forward until he stumbled to Drax’s boots. Drax bent, seizing the prisoner’s chin in his scarred hand, twisting his face left, then right like he was buying cattle.

“What’s your name, girl?”

“Name’s Loran,” he said, voice raspy but bright. “And I’m ready to serve sir!.”

For a heartbeat the cavern stilled. Even Marco blinked, caught off guard by the cheer in his tone. Drax let out another laugh and shoved him toward the line.

“Another funny one. Good. We’ll see if you’re still smilin’ once you hits the rocks”

Loran stumbled into place beside Kael, still grinning through the sweat and grime. He nudged Kael with his elbow like they were already old friends.

“Guess we’re digmates now. Don’t worry—I’ve got a feeling luck’s gonna turn for us.”

The line trudged deeper, the tunnel narrowing, air thicker and hotter. Kael risked a glance at the newcomer. He was leaner than most down here. A crooked pair of glasses perched on his nose, one lens cracked, and smudged with dust. His face looked pale, almost too soft for the mines, but his eyes… They were sharp, alive, sparking with a brightness Kael hadn’t seen in years. Marco puffed beside them, eyeing the man up and down.

“Hell are you smilin’ for, glasses? You don’t look like you’ll last a week. Maybe a day.”

Loran only laughed, straightening his glasses with a thumb. “You’re funny.” He said.

Kael kept his eyes on the rock ahead, but he listened as the new boy carried on, voice light, almost playful.

“Name’s Loran,” he added. “ I’m very good at building things, and I’m also good at breaking things.”

Marco snorted. “Breaking things gets you killed down here.”

“Or it can get you out,” Loran said, still smiling.

The other two traded a look. They didn’t understand how someone this bright, this alive, could end up in chains beside them. Marco was curious .

“So what’d you do, huh? Steal the wrong loaf of bread? Smile too wide at the wrong time or some shit?”

Loran chuckled. “I tried to take over my world and they caught me.”

Kael frowned. He could tell Loran didn’t want to talk about it. Before Marco could press further, Drax’s voice cracked across the tunnel.

“We’re here. Picks to the wall—NOW!!.”

The line jolted to a halt. Kael’s boots scraped against loose stone as he steadied himself, eyes flicking upward. The shadows clawed at the walls where the lamps couldn’t reach. Even Drax paused for a moment, scanning the jagged chamber. There was unease in his eyes.

“Never been this deep before,” he said, almost to himself. Then louder, with a snap of command: “Dig! Let’s see if the blackstone down here’s worth the breath you waste.”

Picks rose. Kael tightened his grip on the handle, the weight of it dragging at his arms. Beside him, Marco cursed under his breath. And Loran– well, Loran only smiled.

The first strike echoed differently. Kael felt it through the shaft, a hollow resonance beneath the wall. He frowned, swung again, and the stone crumbled faster than it should have. Dust billowed, stinging his eyes. The stone gave way with a crack, and before Kael knew it, his pick had opened a ragged gap wide enough for a man to slip through. The air that seeped out was cooler, carrying a faint bitterness that didn’t belong to the mines. Kael leaned closer, but instead of calling the guards, he hissed over his shoulder,

“Marco. Loran. Look.”

Loran’s grin only widened. No one else noticed. The guards were fighting sleep, the rest of the line too busy driving picks into stone. Kael squeezed inside first, the jagged edges scraping his shoulders. The space beyond were narrow halls carved crudely out of rock, as though by hands long gone. The lamps on the other side were dim and uneven, but they burned, throwing weak light across rough walls. Bones lay scattered in the dust, pressed into corners and cracks like they had been left there and forgotten. Strange scratches and symbols marked the stone, nothing Kael understood.

“Holy fucking fuck!,” Marco said, eyes darting to the bones.

“Definetely not holy,” Loran replied, almost with a laugh.

At the far end of the hallway, past the litter of bones and the unsteady glow, a figure lingered. Hair catching the faint light. A girl. Watching them. Kael froze, every muscle strung tight. He blinked, but she didn’t vanish. She only stared back, silent and unmoving. Her eyes met his, wide and unblinking. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just that gaze. Then she vanished into the glow, like mist swallowed by fire. Kael stumbled back, dust in his lungs, pick still trembling in his hands.

“There’s some girl in here,” he whispered. “You guys see her?”

Marco’s face was pale. He didn’t answer. Loran’s grin had thinned, but he gave a small nod.

That was enough. They shoved back through the jagged break in the stone, back into the cavern again.

“Drax!” Kael called out. The foreman snapped his head around, annoyance flashing in his face.

“The hell?”

“There’s… something you need to see,” Kael said, chest heaving. “A hallway. And someone’s in there. A girl.”

The guards stiffened at once. A few miners faltered in their swings. Marco said nothing, eyes on the ground. Loran only stood with that thin smile, as if daring Drax to laugh. Drax’s gaze swept over them, hard and calculating. Then he shoved past Kael, striding toward the hole with heavy steps.

“No one else goes near this,” he said. “ Keep the picks moving.”

The guards nodded, shoving the other miners back into order. Drax turned on his heel and ducked into the gap, motioning Kael, Marco, and Loran to follow. The narrow halls swallowed them whole, the lamps giving off their weak amber glow. Kael’s stomach churned at the sight of the scattered bones again.

“She was right here,” Kael whispered. He pointed down the stretch of corridor. “At the end. A girl with white hair and white skin, she also had like a star on her cheek and she was just–”

“–Fuckin’ watching,” Marco said, finishing for him. Even he sounded shaken. Drax’s eyes glinted in the dim light.

“Good. You three did well to bring me here.”

Kael frowned. The praise felt wrong. Too smooth.

Then came the sound—click.

A searing bolt of pain tore through Kael’s spine, dropping him to his knees. His throat strangled on a cry as every muscle locked tight. He caught a glimpse of Marco convulsing beside him, Loran writhing on the floor, their collars sparking bright. Drax stood over them, thumb steady on the remote,

“Thank you for the find,” he said, voice low, and also steady. “You’ve just saved me months of digging.” He crouched, the remote still glowing in his fist. “But now I can’t have you talking. Word of this place would ruin everything.”

Kael’s vision tunneling to black. He thought this was it. A blur shot from the corridor, fast and low. The girl, the same girl, was on him in an instant, scrambling up his chest like an animal. Her teeth sank deep into his neck. Drax’s roar shook the stone. The remote clattered from his hand as blood sprayed, hot and dark. Kael’s collar went dead, the burn fading as air tore back into his lungs. He rolled to his side, coughing, seeing Marco stagger up beside him. Loran lay still on the ground, eyes shut, body twitching but unmoving.

Then another shape slammed into Drax from the dark—another girl, just as feral, just as hungry. She sank her teeth into his arm, dragging him down. Drax fought like a beast, smashing one against the wall, tearing at the other’s hair, but they clung, clawing, biting, feeding.

The cavern filled with his screams. Kael forced himself up, legs trembling. His eyes caught the glint of metal on the ground, they were keys, torn loose from Drax’s belt. Marco snatched them up with shaking hands.

“The collars,” Marco rasped. His face was white, his voice trembling, but there was fire in his eyes now. “We can take these shitters off.”

Kael’s gaze flicked back to Drax, thrashing under the two girls who tore at him like wolves. The scarred man who had ruled them, broken them, was being devoured before their eyes. Kael swallowed hard, the keys heavy in Marco’s grip. He glanced at Loran’s limp body, then back at the blood-soaked shadows.

Kael’s hands shook as Marco jammed the key into the collar. A sharp click then the weight was gone, the burn fading from his neck. He yanked it free and tossed it to Kael, who ripped off his own, the raw skin beneath still throbbing. Loran didn’t move. His chest rose shallow, his collar still blinking red. Kael dropped to his knees, fumbling with the key.

“Kael!” Marco’s voice was sharp, panicked. “We got to fucking go. More of them, look!”

Kael turned. The passage behind Drax was crawling now, shapes spilling out of the dark. More girls, their eyes wild, their hands slick with blood. Boys too, men, all of them rushing forward on all fours, some skittering up the walls like animals. Their teeth snapped in the lamplight. They were everywhere. Kael twisted the key, he stared at Loran’s lock.

“I’m not leaving him!”

Marco grabbed his arm, wrenching him back.

“Listen! If you drag him, they’ll catch us both. Better he stays!”

The words cut deeper than any blade. For a heartbeat Kael saw only Marco’s face, hard with survival, then the swarm closing in. Loran stirred, just barely. His eyes flickered open, dazed, and then he was gone, pulled screaming. The sound tore through Kael’s chest.

“Run!” Marco shoved him forward.

They bolted. The hallways rattled with clawed hands, the scrape of feet, the sound of growls. Kael’s lungs burned as he sprinted, the swarm pouring after them, crawling over the walls and ceiling like a flood of nightmares. The screams didn’t stop. Not Marco’s. Not Loran’s. And now, fainter, carried from far away—screams from outside. From the cavern. From the others. Kael’s blood ran cold. Whatever this was, it wasn’t trapped in the tunnels anymore.