After days of travel, Isaac arrived at the village once a thriving mining community, now little more than a huddle of crumbling buildings scattered along the foothills of a mountain range. Smoke from small fires curled into the cold air, and the streets were filled with the quiet hum of villagers going about their daily tasks, weathered faces marked by years of hard labor and survival on the fringes of society. Isaac made his way through the village, feeling the weight of curious eyes on him. Outsiders weren't common here, and a lone man in a long coat and hood immediately stood out. But he wasn't here to make friends he was here for Etherium, and he needed to find someone who could point him in the right direction. His contact in the city said there was a girl he had met her name was Lira, her father had worked in the mines. If she was still there then she would be the one to help him. Isaac asked around to find this Lira and was met with only silence, walking through the streets of market center people parted to avoid him like he was a large rock in the middle of a river. Few made eye contact but still not a word. It seemed to be getting him no where so Isaac decided to stop in on the local tavern. At least he could have a drink while he was being ignored. The tavern sat at the far end of the village, a squat, weathered building with cracked stone walls and a sagging roof patched together with mismatched wooden planks. It looked as though it had been part of the mining settlement for decades, perhaps even longer. Its windows were covered in grime, allowing only the faintest hint of the warm glow inside to escape. A faded wooden sign hung over the entrance, swinging gently in the cold breeze, its lettering too worn to be readable. The tavern's exterior was unremarkable, blending into the rest of the crumbling village, but there was an energy about the place that drew Isaac in. The hum of voices, the occasional clatter of cups, and the faint sound of laughter all of it suggested this was where the villagers gathered when they needed to forget the harshness of their daily lives. Isaac pushed open the heavy wooden door, which creaked loudly as if in protest. The inside was dimly lit by flickering oil lamps hanging from the low ceiling, casting long shadows across the room. The tavern was larger than it appeared from the outside, with rough wooden beams crisscrossing above and a stone hearth at the far end of the room, where a small fire crackled. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, stale ale, and the faint metallic tang of old mining equipment, now repurposed as makeshift tables and chairs. The bar itself was a long slab of stone, worn smooth over the years, with a few battered stools in front of it. Behind the bar stood a grizzled man with a thick beard, wiping a mug with a cloth that had clearly seen better days. Shelves lined the wall behind him, filled with dusty bottles of various liquors, most of them unmarked. The patrons were a mix of rugged villagers, their faces lined with the same weariness that marked everyone in this place. Some sat in silence, nursing drinks and staring into the fire, while others huddled in small groups, speaking in low tones. The conversations were muted, as though no one wanted to attract too much attention. Isaac slipped into the tavern quietly, keeping his head low as he moved through the room. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath his boots, and a few heads turned his way, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Outsiders were clearly rare here, and he felt their gazes linger on him longer than he would have liked. In the far corner of the room, a group of older men played a slow, methodical card game at a table with mismatched chairs. Their voices were gruff, speaking in an unfamiliar dialect, but the occasional glance toward the bar told Isaac they were keeping tabs on everyone who entered. He made his way to the bar and took a seat on one of the empty stools. The bartender gave him a brief, evaluating glance before setting the mug he had been cleaning down with a thud. "What'll it be?" the man asked, his voice a low growl. "A drink," Isaac said quietly, sliding a few coins across the counter. "And some information." The bartender raised an eyebrow but said nothing, reaching for a bottle behind him and pouring a dark, viscous liquid into a chipped glass. He set it in front of Isaac and leaned forward, his face cast in shadow by the dim light. "Information comes at a price," the bartender said, his voice low. "And not always in credits. So, what is it you're really after?" Isaac took a sip of the bitter drink, grimacing as it burned down his throat. He glanced around the room before leaning in slightly. "I'm looking for someone," he said. "A girl named Lira. I was told she might be able to help me with something." The bartender's expression didn't change, but his eyes flicked briefly to a shadowy corner of the room. Isaac followed the glance but saw nothing but a few more patrons, hunched over their drinks. "Lira, eh?" the bartender said slowly, as though weighing his words. "She's around. But if you're looking for her, it means you're up to no good, or you're desperate. Neither of those things are very popular in this village." Isaac held his gaze. "I just need to talk to her. Nothing more." The bartender snorted softly and wiped the counter again. "If you say so. She'll find you when she's ready. Just don't go poking your nose where it doesn't belong." With that, the bartender turned away, leaving Isaac to nurse his drink in silence. He glanced again at the corner of the tavern, where the shadows seemed to shift ever so slightly. He had the feeling Lira was already watching him, waiting to see if he was worth her time. Isaac sat back on the creaky stool, letting the bitter taste of the drink linger on his tongue. His eyes drift across the room. The card players were engrossed in their game, and most of the other patrons seemed too wrapped up in their drinks or whispered conversations to notice him anymore. But that dark corner, something was off about it, a flicker of movement, just beyond the edges of the firelight. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him closely. Taking a slow breath, Isaac allowed himself to relax just enough to avoid drawing attention. He fiddled absentmindedly with the rim of his glass, his mind calculating, scanning the tavern's layout. The bartender had given him more than a hint with his glance, but there was no point in being reckless. He needed Lira to trust him enough to help, and barging into a conversation wasn't the way to do it. Minutes passed, feeling like hours. The tavern's noise was a constant hum in the background, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or the sound of clinking mugs. Isaac's eyes kept darting back to the corner, waiting for something, anything, that might reveal who was lurking in the shadows. And then, from the darkness, a figure stepped forward. A woman, slender but strong, her movements as quiet and fluid as a predator stalking its prey. She wore a long coat, not like Isaac's, though hers was more fabric with fur, worn, the edges frayed, with patches where the fabric had been mended. Her face was partly hidden beneath a hood, but her sharp eyes gleamed from underneath, locking onto Isaac with an intensity that made him tense. She approached slowly, weaving through the tables with practiced ease, and came to a stop just a few feet from him. Up close, Isaac could see her better. The pale skin of her face, the quick, calculating expression in her eyes. She looked younger than he'd expected, but there was a hardness about her, a guarded edge that said she had seen far more than her years should have allowed. "Lira?" he asked, keeping his voice low but steady. She didn't respond immediately, just stared at him with an unreadable expression, as if sizing him up. After a long, tense moment, she spoke. "Why are you looking for me"? Isaac clears his throat, "I was told you could help me find Etherium"? Lira takes a seat across from Isaac and pulls a blade underneath the table touching Isaacs inner thigh and slowly moving up to his groin, "You don't look like a miner. Or a scavenger. So why should I waste my time helping you?" She said, her voice soft but with a bite to it. Isaac completely shocked by the situation struggles a little bit to tell Lira "I'm not here to take what's left of the village's resources. I'm here because Etherium is the only thing that can power what I'm building. If I get it right, it could change everything. For everyone." Lira puts more pressure on the blade,"That's what they all say. Everyone thinks their work is the key to something bigger. What makes you any different?" In a moment of survival instinct Isaac forces the table into Lira creating a distance between them, Lira pushes the table aside as they stand The dim light of the tavern flickered, casting sharp shadows across the cracked stone walls. The patrons had gone silent, sensing something was about to unfold. Isaac's instincts screamed at him this was more than a conversation gone wrong. Lira's expression had hardened, her body coiled like a predator ready to pounce. Then she struck, Lira's knife flashed in the dull light, slicing through the air in a swift, practiced arc. Isaac barely had time to react, throwing himself sideways as her blade tore through the edge of his coat. He hit a table hard, the wooden surface rattling under his weight. His mind raced as he realized he was trapped in close quarters with a woman who was faster, deadlier, and far more comfortable in a fight like this. He scrambled up, grabbing a metal tray from the table and deflecting her next strike just in time. The sound of steel meeting steel rang out through the room as metal clashed violently. Isaac pushed her back with all his strength, but Lira was relentless. She came at him again, her eyes sharp and unblinking, her movements fluid and lethal. Isaac barely managed to sidestep her next thrust, the tip of her knife slicing through the air just inches from his throat. His breath came in ragged bursts, each one feeling more desperate than the last. The narrow space of the tavern offered no room to maneuver, no escape. Every step he took backward was met with Lira's aggressive forward advance. He knew he couldn't keep dodging forever he needed space. He needed time to explain more. Survival instincts kicking in, Isaac grabbed the edge of a heavy wooden table with both hands and shoved it forward with all his strength, driving it into Lira's midsection. She grunted in surprise, her body slamming into the table as she stumbled back. The distance was brief but enough for Isaac to take a breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He used the moment to catch his balance, his mind racing for his next move. But Lira was no amateur; she recovered fast, her lips twisting into a snarl as she shoved the table aside with a sharp kick. The table broke across the floor, wood splintering as it crashed into another set of chairs, clearing a space between them. Now, they stood face to face, breathing hard, eyes locked. The brief distance Isaac had gained vanished as quickly as it appeared. Lira was back on her feet, her knife gleaming in the low light, her knuckles white from the force of her grip. "We have a common enemy"! Isaac shouted short of breath. Isaac's muscles burned, his body already screaming in protest from the earlier skirmish. But he couldn't show weakness now. Not when Lira's cold, calculating eyes were fixed on him, watching for any opening. "I doubt it, your all the same" Lira says as she darted forward again, her speed almost inhuman as she swung low, aiming for his legs. Isaac jumped back, but his foot caught on the uneven floor, and Lira capitalized instantly. Her blade slashed upward, narrowly missing his chest as he twisted at the last second. Isaac grabbed another table leg from the broken table up to parry, locked once more in a brutal contest of strength. They stood there, locked together, each one straining against the other. Sweat dripped down Isaac's brow, his muscles trembling from the exertion. Lira's breath came in sharp bursts, her arms shaking from the pressure. Both of them were running on fumes now, their stamina rapidly depleting. Lira broke the stalemate first, feinting to the side before spinning and aiming a vicious thrust toward Isaac's ribs. He wasn't able to deflected the strike, the force of her blow sending pain shooting through his side. Desperation fueled him now as he lashed out, as he grabbed a knife cutting through the air in a wild but effective counterattack. His blade grazed her arm, drawing blood, and Lira hissed in pain, just when Lira was about to strike again the bartender slammed the counter with a war hammer and with a thunderous roar powerful and commanding."Enough!" They're heads whipped toward the source of the sound, as their breath ragged. The bartender stood at the counter, his massive form looming over them like a storm. His eyes, dark and unyielding, flicked between the two combatants with a stern, unblinking gaze. "Lira," he growled, his voice rumbling with the weight of authority. "This man seems to have something worth listening to if he's gone this long with you without trying to kill you." Lira stood there, still panting, her chest rising and falling with exertion. Sweat glistened on her brow, blood still oozed from the cut Isaac had given her, but the fight was draining out of her. Her knife hand shook slightly, no longer driven by raw instinct but by sheer willpower. She glanced at Isaac, her expression a mix of frustration and reluctant acknowledgment. With a hard sigh, she wiped the blood from her lip with the back of her hand, then spat onto the floor. "Fine," she muttered, her voice rough from the fight, each breath still labored. "But don't think for a second this means I trust you." Her words were sharp, but her body language spoke of exhaustion. The tension that had charged the air dissipated, the unspoken agreement settling between them as the intensity of the moment faded. Isaac let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, his arms trembling as the adrenaline finally drained from his body. The knife fell from his hand, clattering against the floor. His legs, now heavy with fatigue, gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to the ground in a heap. His back pressed against the wall, and he closed his eyes for a moment, his pulse pounding in his ears. Lira wasn't far behind. She dropped to her knees, her body sagging as if the weight of the fight had been holding her upright. Her chest heaved, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her fingers still clutched the handle of her knife, but it hung loosely at her side now, the threat of violence gone. For a few moments, the only sound in the room was their labored breathing, both of them too worn out to speak or move. Sweat trickled down Isaac's face, mixing with the grime and exhaustion of days spent on the road. His arms felt like lead, his muscles aching from the brutal exchange. The bartender watched them both with a grim expression, his hands still resting on the hilt of the war hammer, as if ready to intervene again if necessary. "You two done yet?" he rumbled, breaking the silence. He leaned the hammer against the counter, its weight thudding heavily on the ground. "If you're going to kill each other, take it outside next time. I don't want to have to clean up any more messes." Lira, still catching her breath, managed a weak laugh. "No promises," she muttered, glancing at Isaac. There was a flicker of something in her eyes not respect exactly, but maybe a grudging acknowledgment that he wasn't as soft as she had thought. Isaac, still slumped against the wall, nodded slowly. "I'm not here to fight," he said between breaths. "I'm here for the Etherium. I need your help." Lira raised an eyebrow but didn't respond immediately. Instead, she wiped the sweat from her brow, taking a moment to gather herself. The fight had taken its toll on both of them, but now that it was over, there was a strange sense of calm settling in. "I'm listening. But I'm not promising anything else." She turned her attention back to Isaac, her expression still guarded. "Let's hear it. What do you want with the Etherium?" Isaac laid it all out for her and left nothing unsaid. "Wow", as she let out a little laugh, "I thought I thought my life life was a shit show" Lira couldn't help but laugh a little more louder this time, a sound that was somewhere between genuine amusement and exhaustion. Isaac stared at her for a moment, surprised, but then found himself cracking a small smile. It wasn't the reaction he'd expected, but he couldn't deny the absurdity of it all. "You're telling me that you're some big time scientist, and you got yourself fired, hunted, and nearly killed all for some fancy tech that's supposed to save the world. And now you think this backwater mining village has the magic ingredient that'll fix everything." She shook her head, laughing again. "Yeah, sounds like a real winner." Lira wiped the blood from her arm with her sleeve, wincing slightly as she pressed on the wound. "You're either the dumbest genius I've ever met," she said, standing up slowly, "or you've got some kind of death wish. But, damn, you've got guts, I'll give you that." She reached out a hand to him. Isaac hesitated for a moment, but then took it, pulling himself up to his feet. His legs wobbled beneath him, still weak from the fight, but he steadied himself. "So," Lira said, her tone still laced with sarcasm, "what's the plan, Dr. Isaacs? You got a way to find this Etherium, or were you just planning on wandering around till you got lucky?" Isaac smirked, wiping sweat from his brow. "I was hoping you might have a lead." Lira rolled her eyes but nodded. "Lucky for you, I know a place. But it won't be easy. Those mines haven't been touched in years, and there are more than just collapsed tunnels and bad air down there." Isaac raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" Lira's expression darkened slightly. "Things... live down there now. Things that used to be miners." Isaac felt a chill run down his spine. "Used to be?" Lira nodded grimly. "You'll see soon enough." With that, she turned, motioning for him to follow. Isaac glanced once more at the war hammer leaning against the counter, then back at the bartender, who gave him a silent nod. Exiting the tavern Isaac stumbled and tried to catch up with Lira. "Where are we going" Isaac asked we have to get cleaned up, we can't go where we need to go smelling of blood and sweat. You'll attract more attention in their. As they reach the East side of the village Lira stopped in front of a weathered building that looked like it had seen better days. It was made of rough stone, the roof sagging in places, but there was a warm glow of light coming from inside, and faint smell of rose and lavender poured from the doorway. "This is the bathhouse," Lira said, gesturing toward it. "It's not fancy, but it'll get the job done. Isaac raised an eyebrow, glancing at the run down building. "I wasn't expecting a spa day in a village like this." Lira rolled her eyes. "It's not exactly luxurious, but it's the best you're going to get out here. Now, unless you want to keep stinking, I suggest you go in." With that, she pushed the door open, revealing a surprisingly spacious interior. The air inside was thick with heat and the pleasant scent of herbs. Wooden beams lined the ceiling, and a large communal pool of steaming water took up the center of the room, the sound of bubbling filling the otherwise quiet space. Lira grabbed a couple of clean towels from a nearby rack and tossed one at Isaac. "We won't be long". Isaac caught the towel, already feeling the heat of the bathhouse beginning to soothe the tension in his muscles. "Thanks," he said quietly, and Lira gave a small nod before she began undressing with the same casual efficiency she brought to everything else. She moved without hesitation, peeling off her sweat soaked clothes and tossing them aside without a care, revealing the scars crisscrossing her back and arms each one a testament to a life of survival and hard living. There was no hesitation, no sense of vulnerability; just raw practicality. Isaac averted his gaze, trying not to show any discomfort though he was well aware that Lira likely didn't care either way. She stepped into the pool the steam curled up around her as she sank in. Lira turned to see Isaac struggling with the situation. "Is there a problem"? Lira smirked, Isaac completely caught off guard. "Your naked" Lira laughed "yea doesn't everyone get naked during a bath"? This is a community bath. Isaac looked at her a little puzzled. "We all bathe hear, don't tell me you've never been with a woman before?" Lira laughed. Isaac shocked at the notion "I'll have you know I've been with a woman before, it's just been awhile." Lira nodding her head in sarcastic disbelief, "Okay, calm down ladies man, get in here and get clean I'll turn around if I'm too much of a distraction." Isaac nodded his head in agreement took off his clothes and got in the pool to bathe. The warmth of the water washed over him immediately, easing the tension from his aching muscles. He sank down, letting the water rise up to his neck as he exhaled slowly. Lira, true to her word, had turned away, though Isaac could see her shoulders shaking slightly with silent laughter. He didn't know what to make of her, there was a bluntness to her that he wasn't used to, a roughness that came from surviving in the hard corners of the world. But there was something refreshing about it, too. No pretenses, no games. As he settled into the bath, Isaac closed his eyes for a moment, letting the heat of the water soothe his body and mind. They had a long road ahead of them, but for now, in this quiet moment, he allowed himself a brief respite. "Feeling better?" Lira asked over her shoulder, the teasing edge still in her voice. Isaac opened his eyes, looking at the back of her head. "Yeah better." He managed a small smile, though he doubted she could see it. "Thanks for, uh not making this more awkward than it already is." Lira finally turned back around, her expression softening slightly. "Don't sweat it. You'll get used to it out here. The sooner, the better." She paused, then added with a smirk, "Besides, you're not exactly hard to figure out, Isaac." Isaac raised an eyebrow, "Oh?" Lira nodded, leaning back in the water, her eyes glinting. "You're the type who lives in your head. Always calculating, always thinking. But out here? That'll only get you so far. Sometimes, you've just got to deal with what's in front of you. Blood, sweat, naked women" she winked, "you just roll with it." Isaac let out a small laugh, the tension between them easing a bit. "I'll try to remember that." So Lira tell me about this place we are going to it sounds bad? Lira's face darkened at Isaac's question. The casual teasing from before faded, and something harder, more serious, took its place. She shifted slightly in the water, her muscles visibly tensing, as if recalling something she'd rather forget. "What's so bad about where we're going?" she echoed, her voice quieter now, almost grim. "The mines, they weren't always like they are now. Back when they first discovered Etherium, people flocked to them miners, scavengers, adventurers. Everyone thought they'd hit the jackpot, that the Etherium was going to make them rich beyond their wildest dreams." Isaac listened carefully, the shift in her tone immediately catching his attention. "But something happened down there," Lira continued. "Something changed the people who went too deep. I don't know if it was the Etherium itself or some kind of exposure to what was buried deeper in the rock. The stories say the miners started hearing things, seeing things. First it was whispers in the dark, then it was shadows that didn't move right, and finally well, they didn't come back at all. At least, not as themselves." Isaac felt a cold knot forming in his stomach. "You said the miners changed?" Lira nodded, her expression grave. "Yeah. The ones that came back... they weren't human anymore. They were twisted an mutated. Their bodies fused with the Etherium in ways that defied logic. Some were more monster than man, others were worse. Aggressive, mindless. It's like the Etherium took over, warped them into something else."Isaac's mind raced, trying to process the implications. "And the Etherium this contamination, it's still happening?" Lira sighed, rubbing her temples. "The council abandoned the mines years ago, quarantined the area. The miners who stayed behind or tried to go back in, they disappeared, and anyone who goes down there now doesn't come back. Isaac leaned forward, water sloshing slightly around him. "But the Etherium itself it's still there, right? Lira gave him a hard look. "Yes, but the deeper you go, the more dangerous it gets. Whatever's down there it's not just some collapsed tunnels or bad air. It's alive, Isaac. And it's been waiting."Isaac felt the weight of her words, the enormity of the risk they were about to take. The Etherium wasn't just the missing piece for his experiment it was the key to one of thing thats had gone wrong. Isaac sits back in the pool feeling the harsh truth that the council was half right he did create a monster or, more the tools to wake one up and free it. Realizing he was more to blame then he thought, he needed to make it right. They would find the Etherium and he would find a way to neutralize the threat that lingered in it. He took a deep breath. "So... what's our plan? How do we get in and get out without ending up like them?" Lira leaned back against the edge of the pool, her eyes narrowing as she considered his question. "First, we're going to need the right gear. The deeper we go, the more unstable the environment becomes. And we'll need to be fast get in, get what we need, and get out before anything down there notices we're poking around." Her voice dropped even lower. "But there's one more thing you need to know. There's something down there that the stories don't always mention. Something worse than the mutated miners."Isaac felt his heart rate spike. "What is it?" Lira's gaze was deadly serious now, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's something down there that watches. No one knows what it is, or if it's even human, but every team that's gone down and come back they all talk about the same thing. A presence. It knows when you're there, and it doesn't like trespassers." Isaac swallowed hard and nodded slowly, his resolve hardening. The Etherium was his only hope, and he wasn't about to let fear stop him. But he could tell by the look in Lira's eyes that whatever waited for them in those mines would test them both in ways they weren't fully prepared for. "So why bathe If we are probably going to die anyway?" Isaac asked bewildered. "We need to minimize our scent, we don't want to give away our position before we even have a chance to start and you just reeked." Lira said with a sour look on her face. While they shared a laugh okay lets get out here and go get the gear we need. Lira stood up, wringing the water from her hair and grabbing her towel raping it around her as Isaac followed in her steps but as Isaac went for his cloths Lira shouted "stop! What are you doing?" "Getting my clothes" Isaac softly replies. Lira grabs Isaacs hand "I told you they track by scent, these aren't your clothes anymore" as Lira leads Isaac to the entrance of the bathhouse. "Wait"! Isaac retracts his hand from Lira "first you want to embarrass me at the pool but now you want to publicly humiliate me and prance me around town like some idiot." Lira's arms crossed over her towel waiting for his little rant to finish. "You done yet? "What we need is over at my place," Lira said with a teasing smirk. "It's not far, but if you want to keep being a baby about it, I could always take your towel and let the world see what you've got." Her eyes gleamed with mischievous intent as she gave him a challenging look. Isaac shook his head, too tired from their earlier skirmish to even engage with her taunt. He was still feeling the aches in his muscles, and his mind was too clouded to come up with a witty retort. He simply started walking, muttering under his breath, "Let's just get this over with." Lira let out a small laugh, falling in step behind him as they made their way to her place just outside the village. When they arrived, the house stood like a peculiar mix of the fierce and the feminine much like Lira herself. The building was tucked into a small clearing, framed by the ragged hills that marked the edge of the village. The wooden beams of the structure were worn, but well maintained, and the faint glow of lanterns flickered from the porch, casting a soft light over the weathered wood. There were pots of wildflowers lining the steps, and the faint scent of herbs lingered in the air, though the rusted tools hanging on the walls and the sharp lines of barbed wire along the outer fence spoke of a readiness for the harshness of the world outside. Isaac glanced at the house, taking in its strange contrast. "Not what I expected," he said quietly. "Surprised I don't live in a cave or something?" Lira shot him a sidelong glance as she strode up the steps to the porch. "Something like that," Isaac replied with a shrug. Inside her house, the same balance continued. There were weapons and tools, carefully placed and ready for use, but also a surprising warmth to the space. Dark red and black blankets covered her bed, and the shelves were lined with gear, but there were also dried flowers in a vase on the table, a few personal mementos that seemed out of place with the weapons. Lira didn't waste time admiring her own place, though. She went straight to the large table at the center of the room, where maps, blueprints, and various tools were scattered. "You don't get many visitors do you?" Isaacs eyes still scanning the room. "You don't get many visitors, do you?" Isaac's eyes continued to roam around Lira's place, taking in the strange mix of practicality and warmth, weapons sitting side by side with little touches of a life that could have been much different. Lira paused, her back turned as she reached for something on a nearby shelf, and for a moment, her usual sharpness softened. "No," she said quietly, almost as if she didn't intend to answer at first. "Not really." Isaac didn't push, but something about the silence that followed made him glance back toward her, waiting. "There was a man once," Lira finally said, her voice unusually distant. "A long time ago well, it feels like a long time ago now." She let out a small, humorless laugh as she fiddled with an old, worn leather strap in her hands. "His name was Evan, he was the bravest, smartest person that I knew. Had this odd sense of humor that got on my nerves sometimes, but I liked it. We were gonna leave this place together, start over somewhere else. Far away from the mountains, and the mines." Isaac watched her, hearing the weight in her voice as she spoke. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and for once, the sharp, unbreakable Lira he'd known for the past few days seemed more human. "What happened?" he asked softly, already knowing the answer but feeling the need to ask anyway. Lira's fingers tightened on the strap, her knuckles whitening. "The mountain took him away," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Collapsed during a dig one of the early Etherium shafts. He was down there trying to help his crew get out. They never made it. The whole thing, buried." She swallowed hard, her jaw clenched as if holding back something. "I've been alone since. An haven't been back to the mountain since that day." Isaacs eyes seem to grow keener for he noticed around the room and the rest of the house everything had a pair to itself from the weapons to the furniture even the dishes. The room fell silent for a few moments. Isaac shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to say. He didn't expect this from her the hard exterior, the biting sarcasm, it all made sense now. She wasn't just surviving; she was running from the ghost of someone she lost. "I'm sorry," Isaac said quietly. Lira shook her head, her usual smirk creeping back onto her lips as if she were pulling her armor back on. "Don't be. It was a long time ago. I've made my peace with it, for the most part." But Isaac could see it in her eyes she hadn't. The weight of it was still there, etched into her movements, her decisions, even her sarcasm. She was tough, sure, but it came from years of carrying grief and loss. "So," she said, turning back to him, "that's why I don't get many visitors. People tend to leave, one way or another." Isaac gave a slow nod, respecting the silence that hung between them. There was nothing more to say. "There are some cloths right over there that should fit" Lira pointed to closet space on the other side of the room. Let's gear up and head out.
