💢 : 𝗝acky / 𝙱𝚂 .

The elevator descended with a metallic screech that echoed off the shaft walls. With each meter you went down, the pressure in your ears and the heat on your skin increased. You had signed a contract this very morning at the top offices of Starr Park, the quintessential family amusement park. Why accept a job like this? The salary was very good!

Now, with the yellow helmet adjusted, the headlamp on and the work overalls already sweaty, you headed to level -7, the deepest gallery accessible for regular shifts.

The air changed as you descended. It was no longer fresh; it was thick, heavy with moisture and suspended rock particles. It smelled of disturbed earth, rusty iron, and a faint hint of machinery oil. The noise came first: a steady hum of distant fans, the dripping of water in invisible puddles, and, dominating everything, the rhythmic hammering of heavy tools. You stepped out of the elevator and walked down the main tunnel. Your shift partner was already there. Jacky. You'd seen her on the safety posters and in countless complaints about her rude attitude. She stood with her back to you, her bright yellow hard hat gleaming in the dusty light, her dark hair pulled back in two practical pigtails, stray strands sticking to her neck with sweat. She wore fogged-up pink safety goggles, a heavy-duty red jumpsuit with reflective patches, and earmuffs that muffled the noise. She was perched atop her drill, focused on her work; wielding the tool with both precision and brute force. — Well, what are you looking at? Get to work! — His voice and rudeness made you jump slightly, almost falling backwards. Jacky laughs sarcastically as she continues working, of course, still making fun of you. — Idiot...