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“Did you hear the voice in the desert?” my counterpart asked me.

“What voice?”

“That of the prophet. The prophet of Pyro.”

I looked at him, confused. We were sitting at a stone table in the settlers’ community house. There was a plant and a lamp on the table. Cards, playing chips and drinks indicated that a round of poker had recently been played here. I myself was not interested in a game. Neither in a card game nor in a riddle about a prophet. I just wanted to relax in the comfortable armchair. But my counterpart didn’t stop.

“It’s possible that you can’t hear the voice in the desert. The workers from Pyrotechnic Amalgamated heard it in the mines here on Monox. The regulatory authorities didn’t believe them. They should have done better. It was the voice of the prophet, he had predicted the downfall of Pyrotechnic Amalgamated.”

“Ah ha,” I said disinterestedly.

“Yes, really. And it gets even better. The leader of the criminal group ‘Abyss’ received a revelation from the Prophet in a mine on Monox. As a result, the group took control of Ruin Station.”

“But they didn’t keep control of the station, did they?”

“No. But it was the first time a small faction took control. That can’t be a coincidence. And who knows, maybe the Frontier Fighters got a revelation too. Why else are they attacking everything and trying to take control of the whole of Pyro?”

Now my counterpart had my attention. The Frontier Fighters wanted to take the fight against the Slicers to Pyro. They, like the Citizens for Prosperity, had placed system-wide orders in Stanton to bring supplies to the Pyro Jumpgate. I had supported the Citizens for Prosperity at the time. I didn’t like the aggressive approach of the Frontier Fighters.

“What do you mean they’re attacking everything?” I asked with interest.

“You’ve probably been in the desert too long,” laughed my counterpart. “It’s hot in Pyro right now. Hotter than usual. Everyone’s fighting each other. Headhunters, Citizens for Prosperity and Frontier Fighters. And the Frontier Fighters are against everyone. And then there are all kinds of crazy people involved. Everyone is fighting. It’s totally crazy.”

“When I came back from the desert yesterday, I saw a fight on Jackson’s Swap.”

“I caught that too. I was just up on the roof terrace. Shortly afterwards, a Zeus flew low over us. It was far too low. The exhaust jet knocked me to the ground and threw everything into disarray.”

“And what’s the situation here in the settlement? Is there any danger of the fight coming here too?”

“I hope not. But we are prepared. We’ve set up underground camps. One is right on the other side of the mountain. Have a look at it. It’s in an old mine. Maybe you’ll hear the voice there.”

“Maybe I will,” I said as I struggled to get up from my chair and walked to the communal building’s communication system.

I sent a message to Alaska, telling him about the similarity of the buildings in Pyro to the derelict settlements in Stanton. Then I saw a request from Ray Keaton in the cafeteria marketplace. He was looking for photographs of classic Pyro architecture. Since when was Ray interested in architecture? Having found my peace and no longer holding a grudge against Ray, I sent him some pictures with a few kind words.

And then I rummaged through old archives and actually found a report about the Prophet of Pyro. Everything I had just learned was in the report. However, an independent investigative journalist came to the conclusion that the voice was an anomaly that occurred during strong solar flares. She suspected that high metal deposits in the mines were reacting with the energy surges.

*

The next day I rode the hoverbike to the underground camp. I was curious. To be honest, a little bit curious about the prophet. Would I actually hear a voice in the mine?

The entrance to the mine was a large hole in the ground. It looked like the entrance to the sand caves I knew from Daymar. However, there was a metal platform at the edge of the hole that protruded slightly over the edge of the hole.

As I descended into the mine, dried sand broke off and slid down with me. When I reached the bottom of the hole, I stood in front of a large entrance with mushrooms growing on the walls. They fluoresced with a greenish light. I had never seen anything like it before. The passage leading into the cave was illuminated and an arrow on the wall indicated the direction I had to take.

The deeper I went into the passage, the greater the distance between the lamps became and it got darker and darker. At some point, I stopped at some particularly brightly lit mushrooms. Small glowing spores danced around the mushrooms like fireflies. They were enveloped in an aura of vapors that reflected the light from the mushrooms.

I wondered what effect inhaling the vapors or the spores would have. I wondered if the mushrooms were the reason the workers were hearing voices. Suddenly I heard a voice. Quiet, as if from far away, with a slight echo.

Startled, I looked around. There was no one to be seen. Then another soft murmur. It came from deeper in the cave. The rest of the passage was almost pitch black. Only in two places did mushrooms provide a little dim light. The nearest lamp was 50 meters away.

I cautiously put one foot in front of the other. Slowly, I ventured deeper and deeper into the old mine. Then the corridor opened up into a large hall. Several freight containers could be seen in the dim light of a few lamps. Then I heard the scraping of metal, the sound of a weapon being loaded.

I stood still, frozen. Then I heard the voice again. This time loud and clear.

“Zero, is that you?”

“Yes, you gave me a fright.”

It was one of the settlers, standing in the semi-darkness with two other guards wearing closed helmets. All three carried heavy weapons and armor.

“What brings you here?” they asked me.

“I was told the legend of the Prophet of Pyro. I wanted to see if I could hear the voice. And what are you doing down here?”

“We’re guarding our emergency supplies. You’re welcome to take a look down that corridor.”

I followed the corridor and suddenly stood in front of a massive steel door. It looked like an airlock. As I got closer, it opened by itself. Behind it was a well-built corridor with round walls that led into a storage area. It looked like a cellar. The walls were reinforced and partly bricked. All kinds of supplies were stored on shelves in several chambers. Food, drink, medicine. The settlers were prepared for an emergency situation.

When I left the cave again, the guards told me that there were several more caves. One near Sunset Mesa, right under a defense tower.

“Maybe you’ll hear the prophet there,” they laughed as I said goodbye.

It wasn’t that I seriously believed in the prophet, but I was curious and drove to the other cave.

The entrance was not a hole in the ground, but a gateway into the mountain. A large gap in the rock that you could walk through without climbing. However, after a few meters it was a steep descent. The path led down large steps that you had to climb down. Mushrooms also grew in this cave and arrows on the walls marked the way. A narrow, illuminated sandstone corridor led steadily downwards. And then I suddenly found myself in a dimly lit cave, the size of a hall.

I noticed something shimmering metallic on the floor. I bent down and found a P4 assault rifle. There was another one lying on the floor a meter away. And then I found another Karna assault rifle. Why were there weapons lying around? Something wasn’t right.

Unsure, I drew my pistol. I looked to the side and took a step forward. Suddenly, my right boot slipped off and I was barely able to keep my balance with my arms waving wildly. The soft thudding of rocks hitting the ground several meters below echoed through the cave.

I found myself right on a precipice that went down dozens of meters. At the bottom were freight containers, dimly lit by a few lamps. The fluorescent light from the mushrooms on the walls created a ghostly atmosphere. It was a strange place. A labyrinth of corridors and levels that made you lose your bearings when you looked at it.

The whole thing gave me the creeps. I had no idea why there were weapons on the floor, why there were no guards anywhere to be seen, what had happened here. And I had no idea how to get downstairs and I didn’t want to go downstairs.

Maybe the guns were a warning, maybe it didn’t take a prophet’s voice to know when it was better to get out of there.

Frantically, I made my way back. Too hectic. I kept slipping down the high steps at the exit. I tried to climb up uncontrollably and almost lost control several times. I have no idea how I managed it, but in the end I was at the top.

Relieved, I set off on my hoverbike. After a few meters, I passed a large box-shaped building with a hangar inside. Suddenly, machine guns rattled and bullets whistled past my head. Startled, I stepped on the gas. The hoverbike howled and sped forward.

Something was very wrong here. Something was completely out of control. The situation seemed to have lost its center, Pyro was no longer in its wobbly balance. Had there been another dark revelation from the prophet? I had to get back to the settlers’ community house as quickly as possible.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)