From birth, Isha's family provided the best they could for her.
The mines of the Undercity, however, were an unforgiving place filled with toxic fumes, gray smog, and abominations birthed from chemical runoff.
"Mommy, why don't we live where it's sunny?" Isha asked, not even five years old yet.
"We can't, sweetie," her mother said gently, stroking her hair. "It costs too much."
"So why don't we live outside the shiny buildings, beyond the walls?"
"It's dangerous out there too. Lots of evil people, monsters, and no food!"
A snort came from across their tiny apartment. Her father, wearing his miner's cap, grabbed his pickaxe.
"Have something you want to say?" her mother snapped.
"We could've left years ago. There's plenty of food outside these walls but you wanted to have a kid!"
Isha cupped her ears as her parents broke into a full-blown argument. The shouting escalated into crashing furniture, slammed doors, and smashed pottery. She shut her eyes tight.
The fights were intense but they never laid a hand on her. Even when their arguments shattered windows or drew knives, the violence never touched her.
But the psychological toll and abandonment did.
One day, her parents never came home. At first she thought they'd gone deeper into the mines and gotten lost. But when she asked around, no one had answers.
She went to their workplace, where they'd sometimes had her wait while they descended for hours into the fissures. Eventually, she got her answer.
"Sorry, kid. They transferred to a different fissure," the mine's foreman told her.
"But... they're my mom and dad. They'll come back, right?"
"Yeah, kid. But not anytime soon."
Isha felt sharp pangs in her chest, tears swelling in her eyes, when a shadow fell across her.
Clink.
A small metal miner's cap plopped onto her head.
"Your parents are gone. But you still need to eat," the foreman said gruffly. "Go down these tunnels with the next crew and bring back the green, shiny rocks." He pulled out a dull, green-glowing stone. "And I'll feed you."
"Okay..." Isha sniffled, unable to find words for the tangle in her chest. Her tiny hands gripped a miniature, yet still heavy, pickaxe. Her small frame struggled to bear its weight.
Indeed, she was fed. But like many in her situation, it was stale bread and scraps.
Occasionally, someone would take pity on her and slip her extra food, but more often than not, she was alone. She'd swing her pickaxe in the dark between shifts of indifferent workers.
Perhaps it was the trauma. Perhaps the fumes. But Isha spoke less and less, eventually resorting to hand signs.
When the landlord came by and cleaned out her home, she was left homeless and forced to sleep in alley shadows or inside broken pipes.
Strangely, the other miners picked up on her hand signs and began using them. It was easier than forcing words through hoarse throats or speaking with stripped vocal cords from the noxious air. Before long, the signs became common underground.
What began as a means of survival slowly evolved. Over time, the language was twisted, repurposed for criminal activity in the Undercity.
It became widely used but few knew its true origin. Only the phrase:
"It came from the fissures."
-----------
Orion sat awkwardly on the bench while Crumpy, the foreman, glared at him from across the desk.
"I thought you weren't comin' back."
"Wasn't planning on it," Orion replied. "But there's someone I wanted to check up on."
Crumpy raised a skeptical brow. "You never made friends here. You workin' for the Hush Company now?"
"The Hush Company?"
"Aye, those big-chinned Topsider wannabes in their fancy suits," Crumpy spat to the side, then sniffed. "They run this mine. 'Hire' kids or useless twats for dirty work."
"Suits... Is their leader stuck in a wheelchair?"
"Aye. His name's Chross," Crumpy replied. "A real bastard of a Chembaron. Sometimes he invites the others down for pickins'."
He leaned back with a creak in the chair. "Anyway, if you're not here for that, then what are you here for?"
Orion frowned slightly, watching Crumpy's expression shift between indifference and weariness. "There was a girl I saw right before I left. Amber eyes, brown hair. Looked about ten. Just wanted to check up on her."
Crumpy gave him a long look before Orion asked offhandedly, "What did you mean by 'they pay good money' though?"
"Exactly what it sounds like," Crumpy replied, resting his chin on an open palm with a tired grunt. "Cash for kids. Chembarons hire 'em for dirty work. Drug runs, murder, sabotage, sometimes worse. Most don't make it but those that do become well known."
"I thought you didn't like that kind of thing," Orion muttered, his frown deepening.
Crumpy gave a slow shrug. "I don't. But money speaks."
He gestured vaguely at the ceiling with a rough, calloused hand.
"I don't want to be here either. But if I raise enough of these kids right… keep 'em from dying too fast…"
He formed the universal sign for coin with a wry smile.
"I get a seat at the table with the Chembarons as an aide. And if not, well… at least I die with a warm bed."
"Huh," Orion sighed and stood up slowly. "I wasn't expecting this from you. I thought you were better than that."
"Hah! Welcome to the real world!" Crumpy eyed Orion's disgusted expression with amusement. "What? Feel like doin' something? Please, make my day kid."
Orion's fists clenched briefly, but he relaxed them. The man wasn't worth the effort. He wasn't angry because Crumpy was actually a coward, he was angry because he used that cowardice as an excuse to become a part of the system.
Creak-creak-creak.
The squealing of rusted wheels broke the tension. Both their heads turned toward a dark tunnel lined with metal rails. From the shadows, a tiny girl emerged tugging a miniature cart along the tracks behind her. Her steps were uneven and strained.
She was huffing, coated in grime and sweat, her face smudged with soot. The cart behind her held a small, pitiful pile of rocks. Some green, some black, but mostly ordinary stone.
"Stupid girl!" Crumpy barked, rising to his feet angrily. She flinched instinctively as he stormed out from behind the desk.
"I said green rocks and sometimes coal! Why are yeh bringing back mostly coal and stone you stupid brat?!"
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her hands forming shaky signs that mirrored her words.
Orion's eyes narrowed. Those signs... they were familiar. Isha?
'She doesn't look like she'd older than seven or eight at most? This is five to seven years before the main events...'
He took a half-step forward, uncertain.
Whack.
Her small miner's cap flew off as Crumpy clunked her over the head.
"Empty the cart and go back down. I don't wanna see you until it's full of-"
Crack.
His harsh words were cut short as Orion's fist collided with the side of his head, ricocheting it off of nearby stone with a sickening thud. He crumpled to the floor unconscious, blood dripping.
"Eek! Sorry!" the girl squeaked, crouching and covering her head, tears welling up in her wide amber eyes.
Orion exhaled sharply, his jaw tight as he looked down at the trembling girl.
It really was her.
'And she's terrified… of me,' Orion thought bitterly, guilt swelling in his chest as her terrified eyes warily watched him.
His footsteps, despite being few and quiet before, now echoed like he was about to commit a terrible atrocity. She whimpered and closed her eyes.
'Damn it…'
Orion picked up her miner's cap and gently placed it at her feet. She flinched even at that.
"Where are your parents?"
No answer.
"Are they dead?"
She shook her head.
"Do you have a home?" Orion clenched his teeth as she shook her head again.
'Right, she was living with Jinx. Of course she didn't have a home. Was it right to intervene like this? What will happen to her now? Will she make it past her death, or die sooner…?'
'It's too late to turn back. I've altered her timeline.'
"Hey, Isha," Orion gently spoke and her eyes flicked open with surprise upon hearing her name. "Do you want to keep working here?"
"N-No," she began crying. "But I want my parents! I can't find them!"
"..."
Her wailing filled the tunnels, snot dribbling from her nose.
"Why don't you come with me, Isha?" Orion said, his heart twisting with different emotions, sympathy and sadness, while watching her cry. "We can find your parents together and you don't have to live on the streets!"
She didn't even answer him verbally, only physically, nodding her head through her tears. Orion picked up her miner's cap again and gently grabbed her outstretched hand.
"Let's get out of here."