My name's Luke. I'm twenty-five, born and raised on this island. I've been down the Hole more times than I care to count, but I wouldn't call myself fearless. I'm not. I just know how to keep walking forward when others freeze. That's what I'm good at: keeping myself together. Maybe that's why they keep sending me back down.

I've lived my whole life on this island, surrounded by water I can't cross. The sea isn't freedom here — it's a wall of teeth. They say monsters swim beneath the waves, too big to imagine, too close for comfort. I've never seen one with my own eyes, but I've seen their work. Broken ships that wash up in pieces, iron bent like it was nothing more than wood. People don't talk about leaving. Not seriously. We're trapped, and most of us don't even try to pretend otherwise.

Instead, we look down.

The Hole is what keeps us alive. A pit in the middle of the city, wide enough to swallow a mountain, bottom lost in mist. Sometimes purple lightning rips out of it and lights up the night sky, enough to run the whole city. The elders say it's a blessing. To me, it looks like the world tore itself open and never healed.

Every month, we descend.

Not just me, not just my team — but ten elevators in total, each carrying ten explorers. One hundred souls lowered into the dark at the same time, like offerings to something we don't understand. People crowd the plaza every month to watch us go down. Some cheer, some cry. Some just stare like they're waiting for someone not to come back.

Today was my turn again.

Our elevator was number seven. The others stood in a wide circle around the Hole, gleaming with the purple veins of energy that powered them. From where I stood, I could see the faces of the other groups — strangers and friends alike — checking their gear, saying their prayers, pretending not to be scared. We weren't alone in this. Somehow, that made it worse. If a hundred of us vanish, the city still expects the next hundred to follow.

I stood at the front of my group. Luna, my cousin, was beside me, as always. She waved to the crowd, her smile as bright as the sunlight we were about to leave behind.

"They look at us like we're heroes," she told me.

I didn't have the heart to disagree. "Then we'll come back like heroes."

That made her laugh, which was the point. She's the kind of person who keeps the air from getting too heavy. Me, I just keep walking forward, whether I want to or not.

Behind us, Bane adjusted the straps on his armor. He's the oldest in our group, nearly forty, and built like a wall. Most people step aside when they see him coming, but I know better — Bane cares more than anyone. His voice rumbled low as he gathered us in a small circle.

"Listen up," he said, pulling out a case from his pack. Inside were ten wrist devices, thick metal bands with glowing purple glass. One by one, he strapped them onto our wrists.

"This isn't just a timer," he explained. "It's a radar. If you get separated, it'll show you the direction of the others. Don't ignore it. People who get lost in the Hole don't come back."

The weight of the device pressed into my skin, heavier than it looked.

Bane's gaze swept over us, making sure every eye was on him. "The elevator will stop on each floor to gather energy. When it's ready, it'll start a ten-minute cooldown. After that, it moves whether we're on it or not. So pay attention. If you're not back in time, you're staying behind."

For a moment, no one said anything. Even Luna didn't crack a joke. The words settled into us like stone.

Then Bane nodded once, satisfied. "Good. Stay sharp. Watch your time. Watch each other."

Marcus and Janet exchanged nervous glances. Thomas adjusted his pack like it was suddenly too heavy. Sou just stared at his watch as if memorizing it.

The horn sounded then, breaking the moment. All ten elevators came alive at once, humming with violet light. The crowd hushed. For a moment, all I could hear was the crackle of energy crawling across the metal frames.

Our doors slid open.

"This is just the beginning," Luna said, loud enough for us all to hear. "Let's make it back together, yeah?"

I nodded. I always nod. Then I stepped into the elevator, leading the way. The others followed in silence. Across the pit, I saw the other nine teams doing the same, doors closing one after another.

The last thing I heard before the descent began was the crowd's cheer, muffled as the doors sealed shut. And then, for a split second, something else. A sound that wasn't from the surface, and wasn't from us. It was low, almost like a whisper rising from the mist far below.

Maybe I imagined it.
I didn't write it down at the time.
But I remember it now.

The elevator shuddered, then began to sink. The surface was gone. The Hole had taken us.