...

There was a commotion in the air. It felt like static, the kind that frizzled hair. It was the tension of being hunted. Everyone in the slums knew what it was like. After the fall of District 26, the Magistrates became ferocious. It was like they each took the failing as a personal slander. In a way it was. The 'Witch Hunters' had taken over many of their positions and the Savant of Arrays was forced to relocate many of his men in accordance to the newer authority. Their rage over this was felt throughout. But tonight, luckily, the hunt was not aimed here.

The people of the slums were scrambling to their homes, like ants in the face of a flood. As they retreated into the shadows, countless eyes stared out from the crumbled structures refitted from times long before. Vast lines of alleyways composed the very streets of the decrepit slums of the Outer Ring. It was a truly pitiful place, where one room often housed a whole family, privacy barely upheld by shabby make-shift walls. Where even possessing such a home was a blessing. These thin metal-sheet doors were held up by fathers, holding their daughters and wives. It was like they were preparing for an imminent storm. The less fortunate begged to enter these spaces, only to be refused and forced to hide in the drainage pipes and other unsavory cramps.

Soon enough, a rumbling started, seeming to shake the very planet.

Black and yellow forms then appeared in the distance, like gleaming figures the shadows. The Clansign of the 'Erje' can be seen ablaze across their ancient armor. The dignified soldiers called out in their menacing radio chatter, clearing any semblance of onlookers with brutal efficiency. No one wanted to be caught in the line of sight of the deathly blooming yellow eyes. Nor the arc-lancers they carried. They moved as though a forceful wave, kicking over the left-behind shop stands and ripping down shambling tents littering the streets with people inside or not. It did not matter. Anything that might pose as an obstacle was pushed aside. Those foolish enough to be slow-footed in their scurrying were allowed to do so beneath the feet of the large walker trailing behind the squadrons. The metal titan stomped through the streets like an agitated poultry, tearing any decor protruding from the narrow walls as it was forced to waddled due to the cramped space. The way it was bent over and half-crawling was reminiscent of some sort of long-forgotten feathered fowl. Some might laugh at the sight. But then they would quickly stop themselves, remembering this silly looking chicken was capable of destroying everything in sight with its mounted flamers. The Magistrates were in no mood to be made fun of these days.

What was another 'accident' in the Slums?

As they moved down the undercity, the towering metal gates separating District 17 from the the next over let out a great alarm, the sound echoing like a hollow roar across the silence. It was the signal of its opening.

Again, the ground quaked as the massive wall divided, grating like a deathrattle as metal skidding against metal. It was far worse than any stomping the walker could do. As the gates separated, it was like the world beneath the city let out a pained groan, the air thundering as these sounds compounded. Yells and shouts came from all around, the soldiers passing the checkpoint jeering and throwing crude remakes at a lone figure that stood apposing to them, adding further to the chaos. This one was not part of the clan. Any clan for that matter. The pointed metal cap and decorated leather signified of their belonging 'house'. A Witch Hunter. A stranger, an uninitiated authority, whom wished to check their credentials. The warriors have never felt such insult before. To blame them of potentially fostering 'taint', when they have spent their lives in dedication to the city.

But eventually, the chaos ceased. They knew this would lead nowhere. Forming a disgruntled line, the warriors moved down through the hunter holding the scanner.

From out of a nearby building a small boy breathed a sigh, currently walking through a civilian passage in the same checkpoint. Seeing them kick their boots into the floor, he sympathized with their aggravation. It was another one of those days already. He had been standing in this line for hours at this point. Anyone would be made fuming at the mere thought. It's been like this for weeks now too. Sometimes, it felt like things between the two factions were just one step from spilling over.

"Bennie T. Fenerdan. Step up."

Hearing his name, he moved through into a small gray room, passing through the humming body scanner. The green line was almost blinding as it passed over him once. Then twice. Beep.

"Your I.T. checks." says an inspector behind a console. This Magistrate was less armored than a normal soldier, but a deadly stun baton hung at their waist. It crackled as the boy looked back up to the masked man. He was now pointing to the lumbering droid that was in a separate line behind a wall of glass. It was a primitive design, large bulky arms and torso, with small, stubby legs, but Bolt felt a swell of pride seeing Jung on display.

"Do you have credentials for that one?"

"Ah, yes! Umm..." Bolt muttered, fishing around in his many pockets. "Haha, isn't he cool? I made him myself. People always think his name is 'Bolt', but that's actually me... and... " He says, trying to make some casual small-talk with the Inspector. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he immediately regretted it. The faceless soldier only glared onward, not amused in the slightest at his attempt at being friendly. In fact, he can see them visibly sigh. The boy let out an embarrassed laugh as he finally found it among the folds of his baggy apron, whipping out a small chip.

"Sorry, ah, uh... Here, a shard containing all of the internal details. I promise, nothing illegal here."

Taking the chip and scanning it, the inspector looked over the data on his screen before giving Bolt a long look. The boy held his breath. "Alright. Everything checks out. Move along." Hitting a button on the console, the robot was pushed down the conveyor belt and down into the dark unknown. No doubt, to the garage area.

What was the point of that? He wondered. But he was more glad to be leaving than anything. So he quickly discarded the thought. Bolt left the uncomfortable little room to the outside in a hurry, hearing another name get called out behind him as an automated voice played out from a speaker above.

"Thank you for visiting. Have a safe visit. And remember; entrust in the Apothos System. Your protector, your savior."

He simply rolled his eyes. Jung was already waiting outside in the rusted lot by the time he made it down the lift, the large robot giving him a hearty wave.

"Nice to see you too, buddy..." he muttered, glancing back, "Ugh. What a day, huh? And to think we have to go back through there again on the way back..."
The droid nodded its small head. "Bzzz. Bzzbzz."
"Haha! What? No! We can't just drive over the wall next time! You know that." he laughed, giving the robot a firm nudge, "Ah, but you're right. We have places to be. Today is the big day!"

With a little huff, Bolt jumped onto one of the bulging arms and scaled the large droid. He was like a swift critter, allowed passage by some greater beast. He hopped off one armored plate, then another, skipping across them knowingly. Before even five seconds passed, he was now straddled in a compartment on its back.

With a mechanical thumbs-up, and one in return, the droid began to move forward.

The Outer Ring was slowly returning to normal, commonfolk starting to shuffle out of the cramped nooks, peeking their heads when the commotion died down and signs of the Magistrates were gone. Though it often stank and people didn't seem to know the meaning of private space sometimes, Bolt seemed comfortable in the crowded neon-lit streets. Before he knew it, he was smiling again, greeting passerby's as he guided the hulking robot with his arms and voice. Though it was all 'the same' in most people's eyes, the Districts themselves were like cultural hubs, each one possessing its own flare and unique identity. He wanted to take in all the sights, all the new faces, and scope out the shops for any rare components. There was a famous ex-Alchemist living somewhere here too, that he wanted to visit for the longest time. Thinking of all these things, Bolt had to stop himself. He knew he shouldn't get too excited. He had a terrible habit of losing track of time. And today, of all days, he didn't want such an opportunity to be wasted. First impressions were a big deal. No matter what people claimed otherwise. Keeping his goals, and heart, in mind, the two navigated swiftly through the metal jungle.

After a long while of travel, even going down several floors on the public lifts, the two stopped at a junction down a dimly lit corridor in the 'underbelly' section of the district. Though it was named such a way, such places were usually nothing different than any other place in the same district. Everything was down-trodden in the Outer Rings. Yet, somehow he had a weird feeling. Turning down a heavy left and down a winding stairway, Bolt and Jung ended up in on a silent street. It felt abandoned. Though everything looked fine, no one was in sight. The buildings weren't even that badly in disrepair, come to think of it, and the lit signs look like they had just been turned on. He glanced down at the instructions of his data-slate one more time.

"It says to go here..." he muttered, "But where is anyone...?"

...

@RyuShura

---

The static in the air was a tangible thing, a not unfamiliar occurrence for the residents of the slums. After the fall of 26, the magistrates had seemed to make it a personal vendetta against these 'Witches'. Needless to say, life had gotten just a little bit harder in the Slums for the residents of it. Of course, if the difficulties of slum life were all one knew it wasn't much of a large change. Just keep your nose clean and out of the gaze of the magistrates and the Apothos system, you had nothing to worry about. Of course, there were a few foolhardy people that cared little for both the Magistrates and their rules, the System, or any of the recent events.

"Hmmm...need to re-adjust the calibration..." Cecilla was one such person. The door to her small home/workshop was shut firmly as a place in the slums could be shut. The rough metal door of her cramped two-room apartment was locked behind two large metal deadbolts, insuring at least some manner of privacy through the decrepit and old walls of the place. Not that she cared too much about privacy in the long run, she just didn't like being interrupted when she was concentrating on work.

The living space itself was largely dominated by gutted machines, various pieces of their scraped metal and parts littering the floor in a disorganized fashion. It was as well lit as a slum house could be, illuminating the interior of the room in a dim glow. A large worktable was bolted to the floor, nearly taking up the entire wall opposite of the door. On it rested various half-finished items and other pieces of tech, measuring equipment, tools, pliers...anything one might need to modify, repair, or otherwise tinker with various machinery.

Cecil herself was sitting in a well used chair, her goggles strapped firmly around her eyes as she tinkered with a spherical object in her hand.

"Adjust the sensor...annnnd..." Before she could finish though, the earth rumbled under the gait of a large mechanical beast at the command of the Magistrates, causing her hand to slip and the device to roll off the desk and onto the floor. Not a second later, a beeping started. "Welp, that's bad." She bolted for the door, opening both of the locks easily and rushing outside, slamming shut the thin metal door behind her and leaning her back against it. The action received more than a few looks from a few onlookers who weren't well acquainted with her various mechanical shenanigans.

"Nothing to see here folks! move along, no dangerous explosives here at all, nope." Odd though, it should have went off by now. Did she mess up the timer? Or was it just a dud? She waited for a few seconds before carefully opening the door again and immediately regretted it, receiving a face full of acrid, black smelling smoke. "Gah!" She grunted in surprise, coughing as the black smoke filled her lungs and stained her clothes and hair. "Blegh, note to self. Arming the device before finishing it is a bad idea." She mused to herself, moving back into her home.

The smoke cleared rather quickly allowing her to observe any damage to her things. A few nicks and dings there to some scrap parts and the walls had been stained a bit black but nothing she couldn't repair with a little ingenuity. She knelt next to the remains of the device.

"Hmm...maybe something else. Burns your nose like sin but the smoke doesn't really linger...hm." The grenade had been an attempt to create some sort of smokebomb that doubled as something that could mess with a creatures nose. Throw off its sense of smell by overwhelming it with a sudden burst of scent. It wasn't a foolproof little object by far, as if you were caught in it then it would be quite easy for any animal that tracked by scent to track you as well. That said, lob it somewhere else and if you weren't caught in it - it should cause some mild confusion.

Well, a thought for another time. She needed smoke that would hang around and still had a distinctive, strong smell to it. Would make it a good tool for escaping people or things that relied just on sight though...

"Cecil!" A voice from the doorway caught her attention as she looked over her shoulder.

"Oh hey, dad." She greeted the rough, scarred man in front of her. Brown hair, scars across almost every part of his face. She remembered him being a bit...larger last time she saw him though...but she wouldn't think about his illness or that. As much as she didn't care for most people, he was probably one of the very few fleshy human things she actually did care about. "If ya came a few seconds earlier, you would have seen something funny."

"Oh you mean you running out of there like your ass was on fire?" He laughed. "I saw every bit of that." He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and scrunching his nose at the smell of the smoke. "Workin' on something new?"

"Oh you know, just tinkering as usual. Haad a little accident when them armored guys were walkin' their pet." She walked over to her workbench, hopping up onto it and taking a seat and resting her artificial limb on one of her legs. "So what'cha up to?"

"Nothin' as exciting as you are." He replied rather carefully, taking a quickly look around the walls and lowering his voice. "Cecil...a friend of mine told me you might be heading to the Zone again."

"Ah...ha?" This was a rare time Cecil wished she was a good liar. "Me? do something Illegal? You didn't raise me like that." She joked with a bright grin.

"Cecil you and I both know you're a terrible liar."

"Pfft, it's not a lie. It's only illegal if they find me."

"Cecil!"

"Okay, okay," Cecil sighed, hopping off the desk and looking over to a clock that was hanging on a wall. "I miiiight be heading out soon."

"...Look, I've been in a number of dives in my day and this has fishy written all over it."

"Technically, my entire occupation is legally defined as 'fishy'"

"Cecil."

"Yeeees?" He gave her a pointed look as she walked over to where a thick, brown coat was thrown over a nearby pile of scrap. "...I'll be careful, dad, promise." She turned back with a small smile. "It's not my first trip into the Zone. I can handle myself." She walked over to a small sectioned off corner of the room where she kept her more personal items and where her bed was. "'Sides, I could use some time away from the city. It's getting a bit...crowded recently, what, with everyone freaking out over the whole District 26 stuff."

"Well, I doubt I can convince you to stay put or get licensed officially as a diver." He sighed, rubbing the side of his face.

"Nope, ya can't." She replied with a light laugh as she pulled over the jacket. It was a typical brown trench coat that covered most of her body, though heavily modified. A few metal plates had been riveted into it, notably on the right arm and the back making it a bit heavier and adding a bit of a layer of protection. The left sleeve had been entirely cut off though, letting her access her arm-jack easily. It was well worn, and offered fairly decent protection against the elements. She walked back into the main work area, grabbing a bag from under the worktable. "Hey hey, I'll be back soon. Won't get lost out there for a month like last time promise! Sides, you can have my place yourself while I'm gone."

"Alright, alright, enough of that. Just watch yourself, Cecil. Things have gotten crazy lately."

"I will, I will! See ya dad!" With that, Cecil left her home with her things in tow.

---

Cecil moved swiftly through the crowded, neon lit streets of the sprawling outer ring. Mostly, she stuck to the alleyways and less traveled paths. Easier that way, less chance of getting interrupted on the way to her destination. Less chance of getting caught with her hands on some more illegal tech, too. The only challenge was getting past the checkpoints...of which she could never get past with a couple of items on her. All needed for her diving exploits. Thankfully to those privy to some information could easily move between areas easily enough, so long as you were careful and didn't get caught. Narrow hallways, crouching through a few maintenance areas between buildings - it was a small adventure in and of itself.

After moving through a few flights of floors and evading the checkpoints, she finally reached her destination and immediately noticed how well kept this particular section was.

"Huh." She whistled quietly to herself. She had never seen a place quiet so well kept, not even her own small workshop, though the second room where she kept most of her illegal stuff hidden was a bit more well kept. There also seemed to be a lot less people here, in fact - it seemed nearly entirely devoid of all people. Weird, she had only seen this sort of abandonment in the Zone. Maybe she she should move here? Less people, meant less interruptions and less distractions.

"Eeeh? This is the place, right?" She frowned slightly, fiddling lightly with the settings on her left arm. "Huhm." It made sense that the meeting place would be fairly remote, or at least low-key. She did however, notice a boy and his...robot? Well, seemed like she was the second one here, then! But wasn't he a bit young?...

"Heyo Kiddo!" Cecil called over to him, jumping once and waving energetically at him. "What'cha doing down here, eh? Up to no good?" She giggled.

---

She watched it eat, a few inches away.

It was a fascinating creature, it's manner of digestion even more so. She called it a Moaner, for they lumbered like ghosts through the decrepit, dark hallways of the Zone, releasing a sound like a moaning woman. She found out later, watching one up close, that it was simply the sound of it's breath passing through it's strange mouth, or mouths. It looked like some monstrous hybrid of a giant human and a tree, it's limbs thick and trenched, with a split down it's hooded head into a black maw. From afar, it looked like a veiled woman dragging her long arms across the rusted floor. It didn't seem to have any eyes as far as she knew.

And oddly, it ate like a worm.

Right now it was holding a Shock Rat (Another nickname. Did they even have assigned names yet, she wondered?), a spiral of pink, slimy mouths, each one beneath the next, extending over the corpse from it's head first, very slowly pushing it in through the passage, unaware of the woman with the bulging, insectoid-like eyes standing right beside it. A faint yellow light illuminated their corner from above, flickering, recently repaired by a Builder.

She rubbed at her foggy gas mask, wishing she could pet the beast. It was a strange sight, not only for it's appearnece, but it's presence, as these creatures lived far below in the unexplored, pitch black depths of the Abyss. That she found it wandering the upper levels before it got shot by some Diver was a blessing.

Come to think of it, other Abyssal fauna had come up from the depths. Centipedel mammalian creatures and strange eyeless fish that flew through the air, static blanketing their bodies, and other sights.

Even the usual fauna had been aggressive of late, sometimes shrieking and thrashing against empty air as if assaulted by phantoms before collapsing in a seizure. She didn't pay it any mind at first, passing around these sights on her daily routes like a shadow, sometimes pausing to watch their motions, as she did for many others, even those she saw a thousand times over.

Her life in the Zone was often a string of faintly connected, shimmering memories, as if she were in a dream. The shifting and mesmerizing environment had that effect. Honestly, when was the last time she actually slept?

Hmmm...

Ah, but the present.

One of her common past-times was to get enamored with some phenomenom and watch it unfold for hours on end, although in this case she was waiting to see the effects of her new toxin, about two hours now. She didn't feel any sorrow for testing it on the Moaner, fond of it as she was, for all creature's of the Zone were but expressions of it in the end, and would return to it one way or another in it's great cycle of repleneshment.

Still, this was taking way too long, it hadn't even gotten the body into it's stomach yet, let alone completely in it's mouth!

Upon closer inspection, she realized it wasn't being slow, but not moving at all. She gave it a faint poke and stepped back... No reaction.

Well, that explained the two hours.

Ah, but she had a pleasent examination of it's anatomy in the meantime.

Her fault really.

"Huh, muscle paralysis... Neat! Now let's see how cooking goes..."

She approached the frozen, squatting Moaner and pulled her knife, carressing it's head gently, "Thank you, sleep well." She plunged the knife at an angle a few inches above it's mouth, where she believed it's brain to be if it truly was humanoid or mammalian. Sure enough, the creature's body slumped and it emptied it's bowels, toppling over to the side. She breathed carefully through her mouth and began to carve it, humming to herself, the flickering light and the faint hum of active, ancient machinary her only companion.

And then she heard the gunfire.

She continued carving despite the noise for a few minutes. It wasn't unusual, this was the Zone after all, and her particular position not too far from a checkpoint. She was sure the Divers could handle it.

Then she noticed the particular type of gunfire... Several Catalyst blasters.

Hmm.

She stopped her activity and sheathed her blade, pulling out a marker and drawing on the corner nearby a neon red circle with an X. Several similar neon symbols of various colors marked the area. Only she knew their meaning.

She briskly walked across the rusted dark hallway, save the glass window at the end of it, passing rooms full of dead, cracked terminals and work tables. Climbing over the broken window, glancing up briefly at the storming Ocean of Ash, pausing to admire the turbulent clouds that shifted like pregnant waves, she sat on the beam and pulled up a pair of binoculars and peered around, looking for the flashes of blasters. Sure enough, a few floors above on the building across the gunfire roared, along with the sounds of shouting. She caught a glimpse of a figure.

The helmet and shoulder piece of a Magistrate.

She clenched her teeth, hissing sharply. What the ever loving Abyss were those tin cans doing this far out?!

Wait, if they were this close then...

Ah crap.

Now, if you asked anyone who knew Freya, they would have told you she was nicest person they ever met... and then they would warn you not to ask her about the Magistratum, or the City authorities in general.

She wasn't very nice to them.

Swearing under her breath, she looked down a few levels to the floor of her nearest hideout. She had several, but the last thing she wanted was A PIECE OF SHIT MAGISTRATE SWINE... ruffling through her belongings.

She shifted herself over the window completely and steadied herself on a metal ledge, gazing down into the neigh endless depths of the buildings, currents blowing fiercly over her body, nearly tossing her back through the window. Patting her person, she grabbed an antique grappling launcher, feeding the heads of some grapple lines through it's barrel, pulling the switch that reeled it in.

She'd had this launcher since her first days as a Diver, years ago now, having gotten it from her fa....

Her d...

Hmm...

Well she knew some very nice man gave it to her.

What a nice man.

Aiming it proper, the launcher hissed sharply as it shot the obsidian steel arrow hooks across the abyss. They smashed through a broken window and hooked on it's beam and she reeled the line in tight. Pressing her hand against her chest, she muttered alien, arcane words, a small maginta bracelet flaring up from her wrist, enveloping her in a soft grey field. She gripped the launcher tight and jumped, the LEVITATION LVL 1 ;Link only moderately counteracting the powerful wind current.

It swept her to the side, but the line held tight and the launcher quickly reeled it in, sweeping her across the abyss. She pulled her feet up, bracing them against the approaching wall. Breathing deeply, she stared up at the hooked lines and the windows around her, spotting the neon orange square drawn above a window below. She descended slowly and climbed in, gathering up her lines and bolting across the corridor, jumping over thick vines that broke through the floor panels, wet, red fuzzy fungi sprawling across the walls like an infection. Her eyes quickly re-adjusted to the darkness.

Left, right, right, left... ah, there it was. Orange Square. She stopped and listened... No, if they were here they would already be making a racket, especially on account of the decapitated magistrate head she had put on a stick right in front of the door, "TRAPS. DO NOT APPROACH" written in neon red in the entrance hallway of the small apartment.

She hadn't actually killed her, just found her body and had the wild idea. She hasn't been robbed since, so, effective!
She sighed in relief, entering the apartment, only to be struck by a faint "whirring".

"Oh no. No. No! For the love of..."

She entered to the sight of a small Sweeper bot consuming her belongings, a maw on it's rectangular body opening up and swallowing the items it's arms pushed it, steam blasting off it's sides as it literally burned whatever it ate to the atom.

She sighed, taking off her gas mask and wiping her face, "Fucking useless bucket of bolts...". As much love as she had for the Zone and it's fauna and magic, she held none for it's technology, to the suprise of many Divers. She used what she needed, but otherwise, the whole place could keep rusting for all she cared.

Case in point.

The dumb bucket continued to gnaw on her camp, stuffing a cooking pot into's mouth and burping out another cloud of steam.

Hmm...

She pulled out one of the pieces of meat she carved out of the Moaner, walking over to the Sweeper and hanging the meat in front of it's sensors. Sure enough, after a minute or two, it's attention locked onto the offending meat and it began to reach out for it. She quickly stepped back, leading the damn thing out of the apartment and down the hall. Oh how she wished to just blast the stupid thing...

Beams of light broke across the hallway. Chatter followed.

"Of course we get stuck on patrol duty while the others get to go hunting. And you know why we get stuck ever time on patrol duty now?"

"Oh not this again. C'mon man, I said I was so-"

"Because your stupid ass couldn't keep your fucking finger off the trigger! That's why! Now if I hear you whine one more time!"

Shit.

No, wait.

Opportunity!

She dropped the meat and shuffled back into the dark around the corner, holding out her hand at the Sweeper as it gobbled up the meat. She snapped her wrist back, then clenched it into a fist, pointing a small orange cylinder at the machine, concentrating. In a blink the machine changed appearences to a ravenous Moaner, a wail escaping it's lips as it shuffled on the spot. The Magistrates turned their torches on the beast, yelling and shooting their Catalyst blasters in alarm.

The Sweeper fell on it's side, burn holes smoking along it's metallic frame.

"What the hell?! Wait, I swear, I saw a-"

"You fucking idiot, that's a Sweeper!"

"YOU SAW IT TOO!"

"Wait, did you hear that...

Ah shit. RUN!"

She bite down on her lip to hold back her snickering, pressing herself against the wall as a beastial, metallic roar filled the hallway, followed by a sharp squeek as a miniature Catalyst tank drove down on it's four legs, massive arcane blasters sprouting from the side of it's golden orb body, the blue crystal in it's center turning red as it turned sharply and immedialy began to open fire on the fleeing Magistrates, their chase followed by her shrieking laughter.

She followed along, singing with volume and pride, mocking the soldiers from afar.

As they ascended a flight of stars, her eyes widened and her song was cut short.

One of her favorite plants in the whole Zone was a colorful, bio-luminscent fungi she called an Abyssal Daughter, for she found it one day exploring the fifth level of the Zone, miles below, blooming a beautiful sanguine at the edge of an anomaly. The strange flora seemed connected on a fundamental level to the chaotic, primal energy of the Zone, feeding off the excess magic released by the anomalies that appeared like air bubbles in the fabric of reality, twisting it's forces. They would blossom and release spores when the anomly appeared, drifting through the air until they settled on some random location, a location that at some time or another would host an anomly, glowing a navy blue in their hibernation and turning a light green just a few moments before the anomly 'popped'. She took them and spread them throughout the upper levels whenever she could, a priceless secret of her trade.

The more Abyssal Daughters, the stronger the anomly. Usually, there was only a small patch in a corner, snuggling with the other moss and fungi.

When she ascended the stairs, she saw the whole hallway blanketed in Abyssal Daughters, from floor to ceiling.

They were glowing bright green.

The Sentry tank halted it's chase and blast-fire, crystal humming to blue, watching the soldiers stumble through the field.

It turned around and drove past her, just as the field turned red.

And thick darkness swallowed them all.

She couldn't see, she couldn't hear. She couldn't smell, she couldn't feel.

She felt... weightless.

Nothing.

An ex-alchemist once told her on a dive that they called it a Blackhole anomaly, named after ancient anomalies beyond the sky that devoured light and bent time. She found that funny, that the Zone stretched even beyond their world.

Perhaps even their heaven was a honeytrap hell?

She smiled and began to walk, drifting through the void, and then she saw them, struggling.

She saw their catalysts, twinkling like stars.

And she saw the Stalkers, splitting like rotting fruits and enveloping them in a cacoon, their inky twisted bodies made of ruptured time itself and suffocated light.

"Daniel! WHere are you?! WHere the hell are you?!"

"Grab my hand, grab my hand! I'm right here!"

"Where?! Whe-"

One soldier turned around, grabbing onto the other's hands, just in time to watch his skin melt through his armor, then his bones, then all togather his body contorted and mixed like a soup, as if reality itself were digesting him. He twisted into a focal point, fading, a faint outline shimmering in his place before that too faded.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

The soldier, unfortunately, didn't blink.

And in his silent scream he tried to call out his partner's name, but he forgot.

He tried to remember to his face, but he forgot.

He tried to remember his touch, but he forgot.

HEFORGOTHEFORGOTHEFORGOT

And as he felt the very fabric of his mind devoured, he forgot himself.

Freya watched silently, watching them fade, then watching the Stalkers feed. On them, on their catalysts. She felt as if she were adrift at the bottom of an ocean, and she gazed up, and before her lay the Ocean of Ash, pregnant with waves, or...

No..

It was an Ocean of the Zone. And not far from her she saw a twisting torrent of energy, like a whirpool, frothing, drawing in the elements all around, centered in a block of buildings she recognised. And she felt herself pulled into that whirpool.

And within she glimpsed...

She reached up and wiped the blood from her eyes, and then fell to her knees and vomited. She choked, gasping, as a silver leaves sprouted forth from a thick branch rupturing from her mouth, and she lost consciousness.

"Soon."

She looked around, walking down the rusting, rotting hallway with the cuts of Moaner meat hanging off her arm.

Huh, that was odd.

Wasn't she just...

When was the last time she slept?

---

She squeeled softly as her exo-rig reeled in the grappling lines of the remote climber, pulling her up the string of broken holes in the flooring, grunting as she pulled herself out of the last hole, peering up at a familiar mask.

"Oh hey Annie! What'cha doin' here? Come fer a bite?"

The Diver scoffed and gave her a helping hand, dusting her off, "Oh I'd love to stay and play cooking experiment, I really do, but I was actually looking for ya."

"Aw, well, it's a blessing to see you! How'd you know I'd be here?"

"When ya ain't staring at water dripping you're kinda predictable. Should mix up yer routines alittle honey. Knew you fixed up checkpoints today."

"Well, you wouldn't have found me otherwise, now would you, smart ass." She chuckled softly and rushed over to give her a tight hug, the smaller Diver kicking her legs around trying to push her off.

"UGH! Okay! Okay! No touching, blight, how many times! I got a job for you, you free or not?"

"Of course! I always love new visitors."

"Feh, bet you didn't love the new string of Magistrates knocking."

Freya visibly twitched all over briefly, staring, "No."

"Sheesh. Beats me why they're suddenly crowding the placce, it's turned into more of a hellhole than usual. Hell, I was actually worried you'd get caught."

"Caught?"

"You know, with all these new freaky anomalies popping up. They're fucking huge and they ain't budging. Real pain in the ass... What, you ain't run into them yet?"

"Um..."

"Fuck, and you live here. Get your head straight... we kind of need you."

"Aw, Annie, come he-"

"NO TOUCHING! Anyway, here's a chip with the details. I wasn't told anything else, but, personally, something feels really... really wrong with this. Be careful, yeah?"

She took the small crystal in her hands, pocketing it without a glance, "Don't worry about me, the Zone is my home. Do you want some help getting back?"

The Diver shiverred visibly, "Please. I'm getting a heart attack just standing here."

---

---

Whistling, badly formed, slipped clumsily out of a man's lips and echoed in an upstairs apartment in the Outer Rings. Kane Harkess's room was simple, any important items were usually stowed away in secret compartments, one could never be too careful in the slums. In the middle of the room sat a single mattress and pillow, on which Kane now resided. He had been tinkering with his equipment for some time now, making sure everything was in order for the shit day he was bound to have. While he finished loading his pack, Kane reflected uncomfortably on how he was mysteriously contacted the day before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harkess had been closing up the bar (The Basement) he partially owned, which occupied the downstairs portion of his abode, when he received a message from one of his former runners from The Crows. How the runner had found him? Kane had no idea. Nonetheless, he was told about the "job," and without an explanation, the runner said his farewells and exited The Basement as quickly as he had appeared.

Floyd, a man in his sixties, that shared joint ownership of The Basement with Kane, had looked up from cleaning a rickety chair and asked, "what was that all about?

Kane, who had been cleaning the bar, reached back into their supply of booze and poured himself a shot, without answering. Only after forcing down a few potent gulps of alcohol did the man finally speak. "To be honest Floyd. I don't know, but Damian, that boy, shouldn't even know that I'm still around. Hell, The Crows shouldn't even be operating anymore, which means one of my sources must have been bullshitting me this whole time..." Kane wasn't one to visibly show he was distressed, but Floyd knew his mannerisms at this point, and quirked an eyebrow when Harkess ran his long fingers through his slicked back hair. "Does this mean trouble for us?"

Kane sighed and replaced the alcohol in its respective spot and wiped down his shot glass, "For you and The Basement, no. But I don't like the idea that someone knows exactly where I am and how to get under my skin. You know my history Floyd, I have too many enemies, anonymity is an advantage I can't afford to lose."

Floyd carefully inspected the younger man, his wrinkled face scrunched up as he scrutinized the former gang leader. "So, what are you going to do then? You're The Baron, you can find out anything you want, can't you?"

"It's not that easy, I've been out of the loop for a while, half the reason I'm here is because I needed to get away from all of that." Something flashed in his eyes and he white-knuckled the rag he was cleaning with. "I needed to... Recover." As soon as it was there, the haunted look he wore disappeared, he regained his composure. "For now, I'll play this person's game. I'll do what I do best, get information. Then, I'll swing this to my advantage, kill them if I have to, like I always do." There was no narcissism in his voice, just cold and certain determination. Floyd grinned, "You're the type of man only the slums could produce, Harkess. It's no wonder they think you came from the Abyss." Kane allowed a small smile to dance across his lips. "Who says I wasn't?"

After closing up The Basement, Kane informed Floyd that he had some business to attend to, and that he might be away for a while. Left with the responsibility to watch over the bar, Floyd retired for the night to his wife. Kane, on the other hand, entered the black hole of the slum night-life. Armed with his Relics and a heavy jacket, he confidently strode through the crowded streets, which were still alive at this hour in the early morning. After seeming to walk aimlessly for some time, Kane found the place he had been searching for. He knocked a patterned rap on a rusted metal door to one of the more scummy brothels in the Outer Rings. It was advertised to be a strip club, but those with hefty coin could receive a more, pleasurable end to their night. It also used to be a black market outpost for The Crows. One of his former bodyguards opened the door, Mikel, if he remembered correctly. Mikel was just about to slam the door in his face, claiming the club was closed, before he recognized the man in front of him to be none other than The Baron. This led to the predicted stuttering, before he finally managed to spit out, "B-Baron, what have.. What are.. Please, um, come in, make yourself comfortable."

Kane rested a hand on the giant shoulder of Mikel, who visibly flinched at the contact, and patted it softly. "It's been some time, Mikel, find me a drink would you? I love what they've done to the place. The Crows must be doing well if this place can afford renovations all the sudden, yes?" A warning showed in his gaze, testing the grit of his former bodyguard.

Mikel, still thrown off balance, struggled to form the right words. "Right, well uh, business has been doing well recently. I'll go find you your usual drink."

With that, the man bounded off to the back of the building. Kane calmly took off his jacket, revealing his all-black outfit. Finding a spot in an unoccupied couch, he sank into it, coat perched next to him. A woman approached Kane soon after, obviously not recognizing him, though she did hesitate when she make eye contact with his dark gaze. Up for a challenge, she strutted up to him and placed a hand on each of his knees, giving him a coy smile she cooed, "you look like you could use a dance." Kane curled a finger towards himself, and the woman moved so she could hear him over the pulsing music of the club. Kaleidoscope strobe lights blinked in and out, making movements almost trance-inducing. Kane leaned forward and whispered something into the woman's ear, who immediately recoiled as if she'd been burned, before shakily stalking off. Kane, as if nothing had happened, reached into the jacket at his side and wriggled out a small tube of antibacterial gel. After squeezing a small amount into his hands he proceeded to rub it in, looking up from his work as Mikel returned. With him was a strong bottle of spirits and a man Kane didn't recognize. Standing to his full height, Kane held out his hand to what seemed to be the new owner of Club Fantasia. Standing around a half a foot shorter than Kane, the owner of Club Fantasia was a skinny little thing. He had beady eyes that were placed too close together, disheveled brown hair, and crooked teeth that he flashed nervously.

"It's an honor to finally meet you, Baron, I'm Randy Fields eh, what brings you here? Would you like a dance? As you can see we have many, uh, fine women here at Fantasia." The man clasped Kane's outstretched hand, who promptly squeezed the living hell out of the poor guy's hand. Choking down a yelp, Randy paled slightly.

"Quit the bullshit, Randy, I'm here because I have some questions about The Crows, and I hope for your sake that you have some answers." Kane was all business, he radiated intimidation, a skill he perfected over the years. Releasing Randy's hand, he snatched the bottle of spirits from Mikel, who took that as his sign to leave. "But first, why don't we, get to know each other a little better?"

Kane drank directly from the bottle, before tipping it towards Randy as an offering, who quickly declined. "I don't drink," the man claimed sheepishly. Harkess chuckled and shrugged, "You will after tonight... Now tell me Randy, what do you know about The Crows?"

Randy licked his lips before speaking, his voice cracking slightly. "Besides knowing you used to be their boss? Not much." Kane rolled his eyes and deliberately took a sip of his drink, the action raised his shirt slightly to reveal a pistol tucked into his pants. Randy's eyes widened, realizing how serious Kane really was.

"Randy, the first skill you must learn to survive around here is how to lie. How did you even end up working here?" Glad to be onto a different topic, Randy took the bait.

"I'm the new manager, Tony passed away sadly." If Randy thought Tony's death would strike some emotion in The Baron, he was sorely mistaken. Like a hawk swooping down on a mouse, Kane pounced. "Speaking of new bosses. Tell me about the new head of The Crows." Harkess had assumed someone would take his place after he went MIA, he also assumed that new boss was the one leaking information about The Baron, information like where and how to find him. Reeling from his mistake, Randy opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, not being able to come up with a feasible response. Kane took another gulp of burning nectar, and at the same time snaked his other hand out to grip Randy by the neck. Just like he did to Randy's now sore hand, Kane began to squeeze. Randy instinctively grabbed Kane's offending appendage, but Harkess didn't budge. Any onlookers didn't make a peep, things like this weren't out of the ordinary in places like Club Fantasia, in the slums you kept your head down and your eyes forward.

After giving Randy and ample amount of time to really think through his next response, Kane released the man, grinning, waiting for the information that was bound to come. Harkess had come to recognize the look of defeat in another man's eyes. Finally, after a few ragged slurps of air, Randy squeaked out.

"Jaxon Jaegar, their new leader is Jaxon Jaeger."

Now it was Kane's turn to be shocked. The name sent him spiraling into unwanted memories.

A flash of metal, pools of dark ruby, two bodies sprawled facedown in an alleyway. Kane, being held down by multiple men. Flecks of gore on Kane's outstretched hands towards the bodies lying in blood. Jaxon Jaegar, standing over the corpses of Harkess's wife and child.

Kane slammed down his bottle abruptly, exploding glass and alcohol all over the floor. Again, the two received but a few muted glances from bystanders. Randy, nothing but a jumbled sack of anxiety at this point, recoiled. "I see. Here's how this is going to go. I'm going on a job tomorrow, and when I get back, I expect you to know everything about this new leader of The Crows. And when I say everything, I mean everything, I want to know what time this guy takes a shit every day and what he got for his fifth birthday. Have I made myself clear?" Randy could only nod, eyes wide.

Kane, who was now bundled in his jacket again, turned to exit Fantasia, pausing once before being swallowed by shadows.

"Good.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now fully packed and ready to go, Kane slung his pack onto his shoulders and stood, giving his room a once over to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. Satisfied, he exited the room and sauntered downstairs to The Basement. Floyd had already arrived and was serving beverages to a few day-drinkers. He looked up to see Harkess slink by and called out to him as he exited the bar, "I hope you find what you're looking for, Kane."

Kane, not looking back, mumbled, "I hope so too."

And with that he was gone, melding into the pit of the Outer Rings, just another face in a sea of nobody's. He could tell from the palpable tension in the air that the Magistrates had been causing more trouble than usual for slumfolk. Their presence there was heavier then normal, due to the fallout of 26 and the popping up of these "Witches." Having played this game before, hundreds of times, Kane kept his head low and minded his own business. Knowing the streets like the back of his hand, he needed no guidance on how to get to his destination. Once he neared the rendezvous, he slowed his pace, becoming more alert. If Jaxon had anything to do with this, then Kane had better keep an eye out. Reaching into his back pocket, Harkess retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. In seconds he had a lit cigarette in between his lips and a steady stream of nicotine to slightly ease his mind. Rounding the corridor of the rendezvous, he prepared himself for the worse, only to be delightfully disappointed.

What he found was a woman who looked to be more Jacks than human, a kid riding a junked looking robot, and an otherwise empty street. Not wanting to rush into anything without knowing what he was getting into, Kane perched himself against one a side of the corridor, leaning against a metal wall. He seemed to blend into the drab colors of the slums, though his black clothing stood in contrast to his pale skin. Harkess's hair was untamed as usual, slicked back but wild, his dark eyes pierced everything. His jacket covered the pistol nestled in his pants, and his brass knuckles weighed down its pockets. Kane kept his eyes trained on the kid and woman, what was this? Some kind of joke?

@FourthKing@Rune_Alchemist...

Bolt turned around in surprise at the voice. In his fear, the lumbering droid emitted a low motorized growl. But his fear soon melded into astonishment and awe, his surprised, all too embarrassing, gaping expression curling up. He nearly shouted in his excitement.

"W-whoa...!"

The boy was already hopped off the back of Jung and all over the half-jack girl at this point, eyes wide in awe. He was peering off to the side then swerving to the front, and back again, all in the blink of an eye. It was like he saw a rare animal. And in a way, it was. He had never seen such a display of mods, let alone a catalyst this close up. A functional one, at least. He simply needed to know more. As much as possible. They were well installed too, integrated seamlessly into the jack. Handling such things were extremely finicky, which is why he never played around in that area much. Not to mention, expensive. Where did this person get this kind of money? With all these illegal properties, that lead him to have only one conclusion.

"Are you some sort of Alchemist?" he muttered, glancing up, completely misguided by his own nativity. But when his sallow blue brown eyes met her face, he blushed. Cute and into machines? Yep. This is definitely an entirely different district. He quickly wheeled himself in. Keep it together! Don't blow this!

"Er..." he laughed, now folding his arms together, attempting to look as 'suave' as possible. As much as a 12 year old boy dressed in chummed clothing can. Taking off his hard-cap and slicking back his hair, "Yeah. Me and Jung here. We're a bunch of high profilers off in District 18. You might've heard of us. The 'Dynamic Duo', the 'Machine Menace', the 'Tag-Team Terror'! Yeah, I like the ring of that last one. Um. Anyway! We got contracted by some secret organization for our awesome skills. But like, we plan on totally turning them down. Not worth our effort, you know?"

"Bzzz..." the droid droned in response, face-palming.

"Hey! Shut it! I'm working with what I got here!" he says in an all too loud 'whisper. Turning back around. "Anyway, if you're in the Foundry, mind giving us a good word? I'm sure I can do some favors for them and all..."

It was easy to hear the excitement piercing through in his voice. The very thought of working alongside the very folks who put together the city is a dream-come-true to him. He never got the chance before, nor was there any defined method. There wasn't any sign-in, or place one really went. Their recruitment cycles are very mysterious. It seems you had to be 'chosen'. And perhaps this was his time? If so, and this is his only chance, Bolt'll shoot with all he's got.

In all his day-dreaming, he did seem to notice the man now standing off to the side. Rooky mistake, some would say.

@Excal...

@RyuShura@FourthKing

---

"A-ah?" Cecil couldn't help but to giggle lightly as Bolt observed her. Boy, he moved faster than some of the creatures in the Zone! Too bad this kid was entirely human. Otherwise, she might have found him actually adorable. "Hehe." She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, white hair still blackened with some soot from the earlier mishap.

Of course, it wasn't too far-fetched of a conclusion for him to come too. Normally walking around with such a wide array of mods and seamless Catalyst integration was likely going to raise a few flags. Wasn't the first time someone had called her out on them, or at least questioned her possession of them. Thankfully, such people were usually fellow divers since they were the only ones who typically saw them. Most of the time, she only kept the one in her Jack on her. Her stun baton and pistol were typically kept hidden under her coat or bag. When moving through back alleys like this though, one had to be prepared to run into the unsavory sort.

"O-oh?" She offered him an impish grin at the mention of a 'secret organization' and a job. It sounded very much like the same reason she was here. "Secret organization? Mission? If you plan on turning them down, that's too bad. I was looking forward to working with you and your adorable robot." She paused for a few seconds before laughing and continuing. "Sorry, sorry, no, I'm no Alchemist and I've never set foot in the foundry. Well, I might be a bit of a self-taught one, buuttt...I'm most just a not-so-humble technician." She didn't elaborate more than that. While the kid obviously had some skill, he probably wouldn't entirely understand the specifics of making one. "Juuuust so happened to have the thought to take apart an existing class-A catalysts and go from there. After you understand how the parts on one machine works, it's not hard to understand how it'd work with something else if you're clever enough." She gave Bolt a proud little grin before moving the conversation elsewhere.

"You can call me Traveler. That's sort of a name I picked up in the Zone. Hehe, I've probably seen more of that place than some people older than me." She gave him her usual grin. "Thoooough...you and your adorable robot can call me Cecil, if you want." She started fiddling with the settings on her Arm Jack, glancing over her shoulder towards the dark recesses of the alley.

Once you spent enough time in the Zone scurrying about, hiding from the various creatures and machines that exist there you started to develop a certain...awareness. A bit of a sixth sense, at times. Not really anything concrete, just a feeling of either being watched or a bad feeling in general. Sometimes it was nothing. Other times, it was a very good idea to listen to that gut instinct. If you thought you were being watched, it was always a good idea to double check your surroundings. If you thought you were in danger, it was probably a good idea to find cover and leave the area. Perhaps it was just a bit of paranoia?

Unless you were like her and had a nigh insatiable curiosity, especially towards the ancient metal that carved its way into the earth.

"Buuut...enough about me. You ever been in the Zone before, kiddo?" She asked with her usual demeanor. "I started when I was ten. Lost my arm and leg there, heh. Probably a bit of my sanity too, buuuuut that's irrelevant. Spend long as I have out there...you start to get a bit paranoid about who's watchin' ya." Suddenly, her hand drew the gun from her belt, face still plastered with a smile as she turned towards the area she thought they were being watched from.

"Hey hey, it's rude to eavesdrop on people, ya know." Her left arm was still on her pistol, and it was quite clear that despite her friendly demeanor if whoever this was so much as showed at least a bit of hostile intent, he might find himself a few brain cells short.

Morning in the orphanage was always an early start, get up and ration out the fungus and water. The garden that his sister Aquila tends too is always the first place to go, built in a small maintenance passage he found while expanding some rooms. It’s one more thing that helps keep costs down while still being able to sell the access. There is also a large water purifier down there that both filters the water and keeps the small closed off hallway moist and damp for the fungus.

He was joined shortly thereafter by the slender blond haired female, her glossy green eyes were still only half awake when she began to pick and harvest the food from the walls. They didn’t speak to each other right away, “good morning Aquila” was all he had to say and got a simple growl in return before they silently picked and harvested the food for the morning. At least they had gotten lucky with their fungus. It was a fast growing strain that required a bit more attention than normal but was plentiful. The girl he called his sister was for all intents and purposes his family, both orphaned at a young age. The two were joined by another, Duke, a smooth talking short man that helped out with the kids and getting the local gangs and constables from putting too much pressure on them.

Heading back upstairs to the small cafeteria, some kids were up and about with others still sleeping. They prepared 4 meals a day for everyone, if they wanted some they ate if they didn’t get there on time they had to wait. A simple lesson eat while you have something and don’t be late. No exceptions or favorites were ever made, the single exception was if they were sick or injured to the point that they needed someone to care for them. Luckily Isaac never really had that problem, sure the kids would get into scuffles or get ruffed up now and then, but he never had any serious issues.

With a smile and a thank you the kids came up one at a time and took their ration of food and water and disappearing off into the maze of smaller corridors and rooms that made up the orphanage. If it wasn’t for the older children helping out and some children that are no longer children but still come and help out on occasion it would be difficult for just the three of them to take care of the 41 children. His magpies helped each other, the older children teaching the younger children how to survive, steal, and live in the confines of the slums while staying safe and out of trouble… For the most part.

His eyes eventually rested on the slender red haired pale skinned figure of their youngest resident. “Good morning Gaze” the five-year old smiled and yawned dragging a patchwork teddy bear with her. Normally Isaac only took in adolescents between the ages of 8 and 16 but this girl was a special case, she had dreams and visions that were vivid and occasionally correct. He knew if the local constables knew of this they would raid this location and take her most likely killing everyone else, something about the girl told him she was worth the risk even if the others didn’t agree.

The girl was the last in line and smiled when she received her food, “did you sleep well?” Isaac asked.

The girl yawned and shook her head, “no I had a weird dream again” the girl spoke as she began to eat her food.

Isaac began to portion out the rest of the food for any stragglers and the rest to be sold, “what was weird about this one? Did you see that cool jungle warrior again?” he giggled recounting some story’s she told him before.

“No I saw this big pool of water swirling down into the dark area you go to. And then and then this big bright light came from the sky and smashed into the center.” The girl was very animated with her arm movements and explanations even adding her own sound effects, “the, the swirling water had flashes of red and I could hear the machines, they sounded angry. Like you and Aquila when you're wrestling for food.”

He smiled but listened to what she was talking about, even though she was young she was very smart and understood things even the older kids had problems understanding. “That does sound like a weird dream. Did you see anything else?”

The girl got quiet and looked at her food, “no” she said sheepishly. She paused for a shot while poking her food, “are you going back down there again?”

The tall man was surprised for only a moment before looking back to the girl with a sigh, “yes, I got a strange invite through some private connections. I have a weird feeling about this one”

Gaze sighed and smiled, “be safe okay, its dangerous out there something woke up and…” the girl trailed off and visibly shivered, “it felt like something was staring at me.”

With a laugh he reached over and roughed the girl’s hair, “I’ll be safe and I’ll be back in a few days or maybe a week or two. So you be good for Quilly and duke, and they will take care of you” Gaze seemed satisfied with this answer and took her food elsewhere. “What a strange young lady” he thought while he finished separating the rest of the fungus for sale.

There was still many things to be done by the time the food was separated, yet he knew he had to get ready, he was a diver after all and it was time to go to work. The man made his way back to his room and pried open a hidden hatch in the small room under his bed. The underground was cold and unwelcoming, but it helped him get into the mindset he needed to do his job and get out alive.

A small dark room was all it was, quiet and only hummed to life when Isaac struck a few cords and some red emergency lights blinked on. Before him was his work bench and tools with his suit propped up in the corner. Within the next half an hour and a few double checks later Isaac was quite sure he hadn’t missed anything and left the confines of the small room. His suit aided by the A-class catalyst was easily able to move the heavy metal wall in between the room and the maintenance corridors outside. He checked for a moment and made sure he had everything and that it didn’t look like the wall was false before finally ducking and crawling through maintenance corridors and dodging motion sensors and alarms heading for the meeting place.



The trek to this location was odd and at times he ended up having to cut away at the tunnels, so he could get through. Moving above ground for long periods was not an option even with the big heavy trench coat of his the moment someone sees his suit and narcs on him to the magistrates he would have the whole dam sector baring down on him. This paranoia that’s going on with them has them just begging to show their strength and make examples of people.

Yet he could tell that something was off with this area the hustle and bustle of people and voices above him slowly faded and even the maintenance tunnels began to clear out and open up. Until suddenly it was quiet, and he reached a dead end, the grate above him looked loose enough to get open. So being as quiet as possible he stood up and lifted the grate up and over as quiet as he could and hopped up. Placing the grate back to where it was with barely a sound he drew his broken pistol and charged it.

White electricity danced across the gun and his hand while he moved from corner to corner. The clean quiet streets reminded him of the seldom times he had been in the more expensive districts, this revelation put him on edge, perhaps this was some kind of trap or experiment the magistrates were conducting. Being as careful and quiet as he could he crept up to the silent sounds of voices and paused, he listened for some time before peeking around the corner with his pocket mirror only to see a robot a child and a girl. “Hmm… they don’t look like constables. Only one way to find out.” He thought to himself.

The armored man hesitated for a moment as the girl drew a gun and pointed it down the other end of the alley. He could only hope that this girl wasn’t trigger-happy as he eyed the alley. There were a few small places for cover he could duck to if it became a shootout and by the looks of her firearm he would be able to take a few hits without getting injured too bad before his armor would fail. “Well let’s go say hi” he thought as he stepped around the corner, his white sparking gun at the ready. He had to admit that he did look similar in some way to some older power suits the magistrates used but otherwise continued his approach until he was just behind the last bit of good cover between himself and the others.

“Oi!” he spoke loud, so they could hear him, “you lot here for the party too?” he didn’t lower his gun, but he wasn’t pointing it directly at them either, he simply kept it in a readied position.

@Rune_Alchemist@RyuShura@FourthKing

@Rune_Alchemist@RyuShura@ReusableSword

---

---

As far as Kane could tell, the two others occupying the alley weren't a threat, as least not to him. The kid was entertaining, and even reminded Harkess of himself when he was younger. Though that rust-bucket of his was an eye-catcher, Kane figured it was the slums version of a stuffed teddy bear. Kane perked up when the boy and white-haired woman began speaking about the person or people that contacted them to meet there. Which probably meant that Jaxon had nothing to do this, and instead was just a conduit to contact Kane. Harkess was so absorbed in racking his brain over who this mysterious contractor could be that he almost missed the Jacket woman noticing his presence.

"Hey hey, it's rude to eavesdrop on people, ya know." The woman had drawn her gun, and turned to face Kane's direction. He gave her credit for being vigilant, it was pointless to lay low now. Kane slowly emerged from the dark corner of the alley, hands raised peacefully. His smile was genuine, but his eyes had a mocking "you got me" look to them. At the same time, a new person arrived at the corridor, an older looking man wearing an Exo-Suit.

“Oi! you lot here for the party too?” This man also had a gun out and at the ready, Kane had found himself surrounded by trigger-happy people this afternoon. He figured in a worst-case situation he'd be able to flee using his Relics if he needed to, but he had no intentions of letting it escalate to that level.

"Hey, hey, can we put away the guns? You'll have every Magistrate in the district on our asses if one of you decides to take a shot. Plus, we're all here for the same reason, don't you want to find out what it's about?"

Harkess lowered his hands now, returning them to his jacket pockets. Then, in a diplomatic tone, Kane offered this, "How about we introduce ourselves? You can call me, Baron. I've been to the Zone enough to know my way around, but normally I have people go for me." He looked at the other Divers and asked one more question, "Does anyone know who contacted us to meet here, how do we know this isn't some set up?"

@RyuShura@FourthKing@ReusableSword

---

"...pffft." Cecil laughed at the Barons words. Well, he was right. With a light giggle the silver haired woman holstered her gun again, giving the assembled people a bright grin. "Sorry, sorry. Generally sneaking up on people is a good way to get shot in our line of business though, you know?" In her professional opinion, at least. "Better to announce yourself first so no one gets jump if you pop in out of nowhere." Well, no reason to be antagonistic. They were co-workers and allies now!

"Annnyways, they call me Traveler in this business. I've got a bit of a reputation, heh. Maaaaybe you've heard of me little baron?~" She flashed him an impish smile. "But noooope, I've got no idea as to why we're here or who contacted us. Got shady written aaaaall over it though. Probably."

She turned to the other new comer. Armored...probably a Crasher? Would be a welcome addition. More fodder for the machines so they wouldn't bite her shiny metal butt. Not much else to talk about here, but she was eager to get this show on the road.

@ReusableSword@FourthKing@Rune_Alchemist...

Bolt's eyes widened. Though they were not the mechanical messiah he foolishly dreamed them out to be, this person was no less amazing. From the way she spoke about taking apart a catalyst, those things were almost impossibly complicated. It was not putting one together was too hard. It was how to do it without accidentally creating a home-made A-bomb. But it seemed she figured most of it out. Obviously. The most pressing detail to him was that she was a Diver. A long line of experience too. Most people don't even make it past their first year. Their first run out, even. And now, with things clicking in his head, there was another clear answer as to why they possessed so much undocumented gear. Unsanctioned.

He almost flinched.

In a way, they were in the same boat. Though he had a bit of a stigma against them. Maybe it was all the bad things he keeps hearing about these kinds of folks. But he sort of understood now. Sometimes, you just have to do bad things to get what you want. He didn't like to be associated with the word 'criminal', but he needed money these days. Fast. Real fast.

The boy almost wanted to hide is face in shame, figuring out she would've seen through his stupid ploy immediately. Might as well come out clean now and save whatever face he could. He dropped both his hands to his sides bashfully, grinning to the side, "Ahaha... I... uh, I was just joking about--"

Bolt pulled back as soon as Cecil pulled out a gun, throwing his own hands up. "Woah! What's tha--" He didn't even notice the man in the corner. And then another with a gun showed up from another direction. The boy was jaw-dropped at this point.

The droid let out a plume of steam and reached over, covering the boy in its large plated arms. But seeing as the conflict quickly resolve itself, he poked his head out from the wired fingers.

"Phew... Welp. I don't know if that's a common greeting amongst you folks, but I'm glad things didn't end up a mess." he muttered, contemplating on getting a gun himself. Just in case. He listened to the others for a moment, speaking up a little sheepishly underneath the wizened adults, "I don't know if it means much, but from the way the message was worded, it sounded to me they know we want something very badly. At least, for me, they do. Oh yeah, and the name's Bolt. This is Jung." motioning to the big guy with his head. "Er. Here, let me show you guys what I got."

He swung underneath the massive hands like a little weasel, popping back up between the strangers with his hands fiddling with an arm-mounted interface system. With a few clicks of the rusted buttons on the side and flicking abit of the screen, a small hologram text box popped up in front of him. It was a small blue-ish window that floated there, turning around as he slowly guided it around with a small analog stick. It looked like the data went through immense phishing and had been flushed to lose much of its data weight. It was clearly protected by many layers of encryption too, seeing as much of the file itself appear fragmented and glitched. Whoever sent the message didn't want the Network finding any trace of it.

Only one sentence can be made out, along with the coordinates. "Come here. If you want to see your wishes to come true."

...

Isaac breathed a breath of relief when the other women put her gun down and only glanced at the other man that came near the others. Sensing that everything would be okay the armored man pointed his gun towards the wall and discharged the weapon. The weapon sparked and flashed with the sudden discharge, the sound of the shot didn’t echo or rumble, it just sizzled out with a bright orange spot of the metal wall. Looking satisfied that the weapon was cooled off and didn’t pose a threat the man holstered his weapon and began to walk towards them. “Sorry, once the weapon charges it has to be discharged or it will go off or possibly explode.”

The armored man stopped a few feet short of them and looked over the metal robot standing before him, “this one is probly going to get spotted and give us all away before we can get close to our objective.” He smiled, his gas mask and goggles hanging loosely around his neck, “Nice to meet the lot of you, you can call me bear. Normally I dive off the other part of the wall, but this time I guess it’s a bit different.” He said this jokingly, most of his dives were probably in the same area as theirs, but he didn’t recognize any of them.

He checked his surroundings again then looked the kid over, then the other guy, and finally took his time to look the girl over. The man didn’t really care if it was awkward or rude but her jacket was a bit impressive and it was good to know that there was another catalyst here too if anything went to hell, “but a friendly warning to all of you, I got a tip recently that the machines and creatures of the void might be more aggressive than normal. So if you were unaware now you know.” At least Gaze did warn him and even if she was wrong it would still be a reminder to keep the others on their toes.

“Well kid, by your set up I doubt you have been down where we are going, but I can assure you that whoever sent this invite has a dangerous place for us to go. So be on your guard and don’t fall behind.” He said this with a smile, again he wasn’t trying to be rude he just doesn’t like green team-mates. They brought unexpected consequences and were either a loose cannon or a wild card at best. At least by the look of the others he didn’t have to worry about them too much.

@RyuShura@Rune_Alchemist@FourthKing