“God damn it,”
His voice carried through the underground terrain of Midian. A thick heavily chemical smell began leaking from the table he was working at. He quickly jumps back as the liquid nearly splashes around his front side. Another failure to accomplish what he was so desperately attempting to recreate. He begins to shake his head as he raises a hand over the surgical table in front of him, screws began to replace themselves, and metal seems fused together once more as if being joined by some manner of cold fusion. The chemical reagent begins to scorch through the top layer of the metal structures. He needs to find some sort of way to neutralize its corrosive nature, while also being able to trigger such a reaction when he so desired.

He pulls out a torque wrench and gets back to work. He would have to find another sample of the sludge elsewhere. There was a rather large abundance of it after the event so many years ago, though as time seemed to pass moment from the moment it either was absorbed, or seemingly vanished. A task on its own was finding a way to keep it from absorbing into any sort of containment vessel. He had been forced to seek out biological tissue in which to harvest ample sources of this resource. So far he stuck to what small vessels he could, rats, vermin, and other smaller beings as he was not quite ready to use a large scale sample. He had been very much interested in the effects he witnessed it have over living tissue when it interacted with it.

The first couple times he had tried to create a stable subject for this ooze it resulted in almost instantaneous death, a few moments relative to the amount of exposure; it either rotted away or left a puddle of larger ooze. It took him some time to figure out how it was he could keep such small things alive for long enough time to justify his expenditure. He turned to small bits of junk he had accumulated from prior experiments. He needed to create a way in which he could force the body to take on traits of the sludge for long enough that it would serve as a means of holding. What he managed to do however was merely prolong the inevitable. Regardless of the mechanical enhancements and cybernetic augmentations, he placed upon the vessels, after a prolonged period they too were overcome reaching the same end. He then turned to cryogenics, a crude, and very cheaply accessed resource. It seemed that under the right circumstances the sludge became somewhat easier to manipulate. Though still, the same interaction occurred it merely prevented this from occurring for a few days to a week at most. He had just wasted however his last vessel for the sludge.

“Time to catch some more rats,”
He picks up Fract’chur and Ska’ar off of the side of the workbench and starts making his way out of his small makeshift experiment room, upon exiting the doorway he hits a rather larger button to the left of the doorway marked “Purge” a liquid much similar to foam begins to fall from the ceiling and coats the entire expanse of the room before the material begins to vibrate and interact within. Once the oxygen within was depleted, It begins to ignite and sterilize the entire room’s facility. The compound was designed specifically to target bio-organic reagents, while not hindering the structures of the mineral-based resource. As he walks his way through the stuffed underbelly of the Unuako’s facilities he pulls out a small box from his pocket only to twist the top sector of it open enabling a receiver to flip upward.

“Activate Dreadnaut, Override code ϴגⰂ (theta gimel vede)”
A grinding sound is heard from a couple of doors over, followed by a revving noise then by a distinct stomping that was very rhythmic. He approached the sound and keys in the respected code to access the door only to then place his gear on a small stand in the center of a mechanically crowded room. He seats himself in front of the small stand and begins latching himself into place. A small monitor lights up at eye level and he smirks, there was a disturbance in sector five in the known mutant district of the sewers. Due to its proximity to the tavern or bar, it seemed like a very likely area for him to find sources of the sludge he so desperately was trying to weaponize. He set the destination coordinate in and allowed the mapping interface to do the rest. He places his hands upon the screen in front of him and places the Etz Hada’as into the console as a sort of key before he depresses the central point of it. The room around him begins to spin as it very much became gyroscopic. Like a circus attraction, one commonly sees people spinning in; yet this one was made of several rings all spinning in different directions ranging in the overall shape of a vessel from that of a sphere to a wheel turned upon its side. The small stand puls itself in and over top of the seat in which Anigmus placed himself only to lock over him somewhat like a turret. He had no need or reason to manually drive the standard-issue Dreadnaut, and so he allowed it to take him where he programmed it too.

“Well Fuck a ferret and call him meat slinky,”
He whistles to himself as he gets to the brutal scene of the crime.
There was a ripe stench to the place, the murder was not very fresh, but among the corpses, he finds traces of the sludge he so desired to acquire more of, though seeing as these corpses were already dead they gave him no such luck. He notices a scurrying very close by and watches a rather large rat make its way out of a local sewage pipe only to run up to where an eye would have been only to begin hungrily burrowing into the skull of the male mutant’s corpse. He shakes his head and releases the latches holding him in the chair before removing the cube from its console immediately following his gear. The Dreadnaut begins taking itself back through the long maze of sewage lines until it reaches back to its home. He lifts Fract’chur and brings it down upon the mutant’s skull shattering it, the detonation caused was enough to crack the ground under it and drive the rat which surprisingly had burrowed out of the skull into a large divot of the ground, he did this to fracture the earth and pipes underneath the dead in hopes of finding what he so desired, though what he found was nearly an unusable amount. The limbs of the rat began to rot away as it touched the small drops of sludge and he shook his head.

“Fucking fuck shit fuck fuck shit Fuck!”
He had to work fast before someone heard the commotion and came to investigate. Evidently he chose to follow the closest sewer pipe to a ladder which led to a drainage pipe directly in the storage room below the bar of Old Tom's pub. A hungering for drink seized his throat and so Anigmus felt the need to be advantageous in this newish setting.{Rolled 93/100} In truth the stockrooms of many establishments have always been a target of the Unuako especially those with limited, or no means of anti-theft, or security systems. Looking around he sees several large barrels full of choice drink, but keeps moving. It would be very difficult to transport something of such size and so he takes a moment to search for something a bit smaller. He winds up locating four-one-gallon bottles of unlabeled drink with a thick layer of dust upon them. They had obviously been sitting there, for how long was anyone's guess. In other circumstances he would have dropped the bottles down into the drainage pipe once more, but due to the disturbance he created prior it was not a likely location to filch via. He removes the stopper from one of the gallons and begins to slam it as he makes his way to the span of stairs leading up from behind the bar-top into the main stockroom. His aided vision made him aware of the basic floor-plan of the building, a basic electric fueled pre-war architecture. As he pushed the door open and entered the main stockroom he would have nearly emptied a single bottle of vintage liquid. He tracked the movements of those in the main room of the bar, daring a brief glance around to view the patrons and precisely where it was the barkeep was. When the opening arose and the Barkeep as well as Extros turned their backs to the bar. Anigmus would act pulling up a hood to obscure his multiple eyes; he would lithely make his way out of the stockroom. Luckily for him it wouldn't be after some time that the drink he enjoyed would begin to have an effect. This also served a bit of a inconspicuous disguise as he might be able to pass as a drunk patron if no one looked to closely at him. It was not very common for an Unuako to come to the surface during the day. He drunkenly begins to stumble around before half falling and half sitting in a chair directly opposite Ex.

"Yer fhekken Ugly mate, fucking look like colorless dogshit, 'oo d'fek you fhink you iz, Ifz Ey idn't know no bet'r i swear mi mum you'z a mirror, but Evenz I'z aint that fhekken ugly mi finks. Clear as day yer livs a fhek shyt ball of dick scum, 'ere Drink wiff me ye alf-ded alf moo-tated gurz-boog' summ tin jerm 'et sum cul'r d'ye 'kin" It became evident that as he spoke the substance he consumed began its intended effect of inebriating Anigmus. He punctuated his decree of introductions and pleasantries with intentionally grabbing Ex's cup dumping it upon the ground and over-filling it with the remainder of the bottle he nearly chugged to empty. Anigmus's Ska'ar (A hollow tipped ballistic modified rifle,) would rest across his lap while his massive maul Frakt'Chur would sit just across his back. It was likely Anigmus might have gotten offended if Ex didn't drink, but that was considering he was capable of sustaining his level of conscious awareness needed to stay vertical.

"Yer Fhookkun ugly" he would punctuate as his begins to slump over on the table, obviously direly inebriated.