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"Decrypting now." Malcolm squinted at his screen. "Last recording was yesterday at 11:47 AM. File size suggests about twenty minutes of video before the device stopped functioning."
"That's when he entered the mine," Sheila said quietly.
They had Marcus's final moments. The only question was whether they would reveal the face of his killer.
Malcolm tapped commands into his keyboard, and the first video file began playing on his large monitor. The footage was shaky, showing Marcus walking through the mine entrance.
"Hey guys, Marcus here," his voice came through clearly. "Today we're exploring the Copper Queen Mine, but this isn't our usual kind of video..."
They watched as Marcus moved deeper into the mine, his narration growing quieter, more cautious. The smart glasses captured everything at his eye level, their built-in stabilization helping to smooth the footage.
"I'm still a little confused," Gabriel said. "I thought he was using his phone for recording?"
"He was," Sheila said. "Maybe he hadn't intended to leave the glasses recording, or maybe he just liked having two versions."
"Did you hear that?" Marcus whispered suddenly. The camera swung toward a side tunnel.
A figure moved in the darkness ahead—just a shadow of indeterminate size.
"Hello?" Marcus called out. "Is someone there?"
The figure turned, and for a brief moment, they caught the green glow of night-vision goggles. There was something else, too—a small silver cross hanging from the figure's neck, catching the light from Marcus's headlamp.
"Hello?" Marcus called out again. "Look, I don't mean to intrude if you're exploring too. Just trying to document the mine."
The figure stood motionless, head slightly tilted. Then, slowly, deliberately, it reached into its jacket.
"Hey, it's cool," Marcus said, his voice betraying growing unease. "I can head back out—"
The figure withdrew something that glinted in the weak light. A blade, maybe, or something metallic.
"Listen, I don't want any trouble," Marcus said, backing up. "I'm live-streaming this, by the way. People know where I am." This was a lie, of course—even if he had tried to livestream, there was no way his phone would remain connected so far underground.
The figure took a step forward. Another. No words, no response to Marcus's claims. Just that slow, methodical advance.
That's when Marcus ran.
The footage became chaotic then—his ragged breathing, the sound of boots on stone, glimpses of tunnel walls as he fled deeper into the darkness.
"I promise this isn't a prank," he said to his unseen audience. "I have no idea who the hell that guy was." He stopped at a fork, turning left then right.
"Shit," he muttered. "Where'd I come from?"
There was a sound behind him—a footfall, maybe. Marcus sprinted forward, twisting around to look behind him. Then, suddenly, he was falling. There was a crash—a sound that, Sheila realized with horror, might've been the sound of breaking bones—and then the video ended in static.
Nobody spoke for several long moments. Sheila clenched and unclenched her hands. There was a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"Can you back up?" she asked.
"You want to see that again?" Marcus asked in horror.
"No, I mean to where we can see the figure with the goggles."
Malcolm rewound the footage frame by frame until the necklace was visible again.
"Simple silver cross," Gabriel said. "Probably thousands like it."
"But now we know he wears one," Sheila said. "It confirms the religious angle, just like the cross drawn by Tyler's body."