Pak

　　My tongue tastes like iron. My fingers tingle. Everything is red, like blood staining my pupils. I`m on my knees, panting, pulsing with pain. My ears ring with the chime of a bell&

　　The weapon sticks out of the stone a few feet above the floor, my fingers curled limply around the handle. I groan and pull it from the deep crack in the wall. They`re all watching me, gaping, but I know they can`t see me - they just see where I ought to be, brandishing their swords at an empty space. Joma is clutching his throat, shaking, pants damp with piss. Behind me, the stone shifts with a deafening crash, and the whole room rumbles. Their eyes light up with panic. They babble orders to each other, scrambling to get out the door. Sand hisses through the cracks in the ceiling, falling to the ground like rain.

　　Bury them alive.

　　No... That`s not what I meant to do. I didn`t want this. I just wanted to disappear...

　　More shouts echo down the tunnel outside, muffled to my unreal ears.

　　Get to the bunker!

　　Footsteps pound against the marblesque floor.

　　I don`t care about the boy! Move!

　　My legs are too wobbly to stand. I crawl to the door, watching them clamber past. Another deafening CRACK fills the air. Even the spoli exude unfathomable fear. Even the spoli don`t want to be buried alive.

　　"I`m sorry&"

　　Stop apologizing.

　　You know they deserved this.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

　　Nobody deserves this&

　　"It was an accident!!"

　　I call out to the soldiers passing by. Nobody hears me. I crawl into the hall, and they step right through me. A huge chunk of rock crashes to the ground, narrowly missing a person. He freezes, and the one behind him collides with his back, then another, then another, piling up, pushing and yelling. Move! Get out of the way!

　　One by one, they disappear around the corner. They`ve planned for this. They live underground. Surely they know what to do in a cave-in.

　　How many do you think won`t make it?

　　I drag myself down the hall. I have to see where they`re going, but the ground beneath me is breaking away, and I don`t think I`ll make it in time.

　　"Where are they going?" I whisper to the spoli. A small cloud leaves my head with a gentle hiss, weaving through pockets of undisturbed air. Even in this state, they stay with me...

　　Rocks fall through me, but I only feel a tickle as they pass. The walls crumble, bringing pieces of the ceiling with it. A huge chunk of the floor breaks. I keep crawling, even as the floor splits beneath my palms. The spoli weave back into my head to show me what images they`ve gathered: Du閚 soldiers, huddled in a circle in the dark, lit by a sparse cloud of their own spoli. Metal walls protect them from the falling sky.

　　The base called Eriztre cracks like a glass window. The ceiling collapses and the floor follows. A wide, empty canyon opens beneath this place, swallowing Eriztre`s furniture, fixtures, water, food, structures, debris, all of it. It happens so slowly, at first. Then it tumbles into the abyss like a proper rockslide.

　　I am incorporeal. I float down after the destruction, an invisible feather held aloft by the red-tinted air.

　　The rock peels away from the Du閚 bunkers, giant metal teardrops fixed to the natural walls, slanted so the debris won`t take them down. The rain of dirt keeps coming, until a hole opens up far above, and traces of light shines from the surface. One of the bunkers slides down the sinkhole wall, slowed by the buildup beneath it. I can only imagine the terror of those locked inside. I watch the earth fill the collapsed cavern space, a downpour filling a well, and I pray none of the smudges I glimpse are bodies of people who didn`t make it.

　　"I didn`t mean to!" I shout into the dark, but my voice does not echo. My voice isn`t real.

　　The dirt settles before I land, far more gently than I deserve. Some of the teardrop bunkers stay fixed in place as others scrape down the Obsidian`s face.

　　"Please get them out safe," I whimper. I never wanted this. I just wanted to disappear.

　　I`m still clutching the weapon. The green metal looks pink in this blood-stained realm. I don`t want to be here anymore. Disappearing isn`t enough. I roll over onto my side, pouring my focus into the handle. It`s all that I have left, just enough to take me back.

　　R E A P P E A R