SHADOWS OF LEGACY, THE CLOVER MAGE'S RECKONING.

Chapter 7:

The words hung in the air like smoke.

“They're attacking the nation.”

For a moment, nobody moved. The hall seemed frozen,every face locked in place, every mouth half-open, every eye wide with the same dawning horror.

Then someone whispered.

 "No."

And the dam broke.

"My children!"

 A miner near the front lurched forward, his chair clattering backward. His voice cracked.

 "My wife and children are at home! I need to,I have to get to them!"

"The southern district,that's where my family…"

"Gods, no, please…"

The murmurs started like ripples in water, spreading outward. Low at first, uncertain. Then louder. Desperate. Panicked.

"Are they sure? Maybe it's a mistake…"

"You heard him! The Nameless Beings!"

"But we're miles underground, we should be safe…"

"Safe? My mother lives on the surface! My brothers!"

Marcus's hand dropped from Thorne's shoulder. When Thorne turned to look at him, the older man's face had gone pale. His eyes were distant, unfocused.

"My wife." 

Marcus said. His voice came out flat, like he was reading words off a page.

 "My kids. They're still... I left them at the house this morning. They're still there."

 His eyes snapped to Thorne, suddenly sharp with fear. 

"They're still there. I need to go. I need to make sure they're safe."

Around them, chaos was building. Men pushed away from tables, knocking over mugs and plates. Someone tripped over a broken bench and went sprawling. Nobody stopped to help him up.

"The tunnels! We need to get to the surface!"

"Which way is fastest?"

"Everyone stay calm!" 

That was Manager Dravin, his voice trying to cut through the noise. But even he looked shaken. His birthday celebration forgotten, his confident smile gone.

 "Stay calm and proceed in an orderly…"

Nobody was listening.

The crowd surged toward the main exit like a wave. Men shoved each other, trying to get ahead. The sound of boots on stone became thunder. Someone was crying. Someone else was praying.

Thorne stood perfectly still in the middle of it all.

His face was calm. Unfazed. While everyone around him descended into panic, his expression remained empty. His breathing stayed steady. He watched the chaos like he was watching rain fall,something happening outside of himself, disconnected, distant.

“The Nameless Beings.”

The name meant nothing to him. He'd heard whispers in the mines sometimes, late at night when the foremen weren't listening. Stories about shadows that moved wrong. About entire villages disappearing overnight. But he'd thought they were just stories. The kind prisoners told each other to pass the time.

But the look on that miner's face. The terror in his eyes.

That hadn't been a lie.

"Everyone! Please!"

 Dravin was standing on his stage again, hands raised. His assistant had appeared beside him, a young man barely out of his teens, struggling to carry something large and unwieldy.

A radio speaker.

The assistant set it down with a heavy thud, and Dravin immediately began fiddling with the dials. Static crackled through the hall, loud enough to make some people flinch.

"...repeat, this is not a drill…"

The voice cut through the panic like a knife through flesh. Everyone stopped. Turned. Stared at the speaker.

It was a woman's voice, crisp and professional. The kind of voice that reads the news every evening, calm and measured. But there was something underneath it now. Something tight.

"...Nameless forces have breached the northern wall. Military units are engaging, but…”

A pause. Static. Then her voice came back, faster now. Less controlled.

"...reports of casualties are coming in. All civilians are advised to evacuate toward the southern districts. Do not attempt to engage. I repeat, do not attempt to…"

Explosions in the background. Distant but unmistakable. The sound of something large and terrible happening.

The newsreader's voice wavered. 

"The guard is holding position at the main square, but…" 

Another pause. Longer this time. When she spoke again, her professional mask was cracking. Fear bled through every word.

"Wait. There's something…" 

Silence. Just static and the faint sound of screaming far away.

"Oh gods."

 Her voice was barely a whisper now. The microphone picked it up anyway. 

"It seems the Nameless Beings have brought their lord."

The gathering hall went deathly quiet. Even the miners who'd been pushing toward the exit stopped.

"I can see him from here. He's,he's enormous. The size of a building. The guards are firing everything they have, but it's not…"

Her voice broke. Completely. The professional newsreader was gone. Just a terrified woman remained.

"Run."

 She was crying now.

 "Everyone, just run! Get out of the city! Don't try to fight them! Just…"

An explosion. So loud the speaker shook.

Then nothing. Just empty static.

Dravin stared at the speaker. His hand was still on the dial, frozen. His face had gone grey.

The hall erupted.

"Move! MOVE!"

"Get out of my way!"

"The exit! Where's the exit!"

It wasn't just panic anymore. It was pure, primal terror. Men trampled over each other. Someone threw a punch when another man got in his way. Blood splattered.

The crowd became a mob, crushing toward the single doorway. Bodies pressed against bodies. The smell of sweat and fear filled the air.

Thorne let the wave carry him. He didn't push, didn't shove. Just moved with the current, letting his feet carry him forward while his mind stayed somewhere else. Somewhere quiet.

‘So this is how it ends.’

Not from his uncle's betrayal. Not from ten years of slavery. But from something he'd never even heard of until five minutes ago.

The thought should have bothered him. Maybe it did. 

He couldn't tell anymore.

They burst out of the gathering hall into the main tunnel. The alarm was still screaming, echoing off the stone walls until it felt like the sound was coming from inside Thorne's skull. Red emergency lights had activated, bathing everything in blood-colored shadows.

Men split off in different directions. Some headed for the surface. Others ran deeper into the mine, maybe hoping to hide in the lower levels. A few just stood there, paralyzed, unable to decide.

Marcus grabbed Thorne's arm. His grip was iron-tight.

 "Come on! This way!...”