The Odes of Orbyz hits a little differently now

“Even though her eyes had finally fully adjusted to the lower lighting of glow fungus growing in long strips above the shattered red crystals, Tybla stayed Attuned as she hurtled through Deeptown. She couldn’t stop now. She could smell the smoke mixed with the steam; she could taste it, thick and acrid, clogging her nose and scraping her throat. And in the distance, she could hear the high, screeching sounds of shifting rock and human pain.

Tybla thought by now she had imagined everything horrible in the world, but nothing could have prepared her for what she saw when she came to the Fissure.

It should have been a vast, spacious chamber, crossed with gleaming ice bridges, dozens of white-and-gold marble tunnels branching away like arteries from a heart, the upper ones lined with tracks for steam-powered trolleys heaped with sparkling scarlet crystals, the lower ones carved out around frigid clear rivers that supplies and ore were carried along on bright copper boats. The air should have been ringing with the sounds of pickaxes striking rock, of foremen bellowing orders, of crystals chiming against each other as they were loaded and unloaded.

Instead, the only sound was a terrible low moaning that reverberated and echoed off the fallen stone and hung in the smoky air. And the only scene was carnage.

Almost all of the tunnels had collapsed, taking the ice bridges with them. Boulders and shards of ice nearly filled the cavern, the jagged edges of the one nearest to Tybla smeared with blood. The mangled remains of a trolley spilled out from under its edges, as well as the mangled remains of—“