Step... step...
Until both above and below were swallowed in total darkness.
David hunched his shoulders, pulling his collar up as he asked through the link.
"Anything?"
"Just a pile of dead iron husks. What do you think I'd find..."
Lucy had clearly been keeping tabs the whole time, answering right away.
"What about Mom? How's she doing?"
Whether it was the night air or the atmosphere creeping in, David felt cold and rubbed his arms unconsciously.
"She's asleep...
By her usual pattern, she won't wake until tomorrow."
"These Maelstrom freaks are insane, living up here..."
Grumbling, David glanced upward with a sigh.
"Seriously, everyone else takes the elevator...
Who in their right mind climbs the service stairs?"
On the other end, Lucy seemed to sense his unease and kept the conversation going.
"Well... guess I'll just have to keep you company..."
David shrugged. The darkness above still pressed down, impossible to measure.
The creaking under his boots grew sharper, pushing him to quicken his pace.
This so-called central steel furnace felt less like one structure and more like an entire industrial complex.
After climbing further, David reached an iron door. Rust spread through the seams of the frame, and the cracked paint curled like worms across the surface.
Clearly, he'd picked a route almost no one ever used.
Stepping back, he gathered himself and drove a heavy kick into the door.
CLANG—
The deafening crash didn't echo outward but plunged into the abyss beside him.
It was several seconds before the echoes drifted back up.
But—
Even that racket left the factory dead silent.
Maybe... the furnace's soundproofing was just that good?
Ahead stretched a corridor drowned in pitch black, its end uncertain.
Through the green haze of night vision, he couldn't make out dust on the floor, but debris piled thick enough to make the path nearly impassable.
Cracks in the walls bled pale moonlight into the dark.
After a straight hundred-meter walk, the layout finally clicked.
The furnace wasn't just a lone cylindrical tower. Another structure had been built onto its rear, hidden from view when he first entered.
That detour might just be a blessing in disguise.
The enemy wouldn't expect him to come from this side.
And expecting a bunch of Maelstrom lunatics to notice such a gap? That'd be giving them too much credit.
At the passage's end stood a locked iron gate. Through its gaps leaked a faint green glow.
David pulled off his night-vision goggles and saw it clearly—just an emergency lamp tucked in the corner.
"Phew... finally, a little sign of life..."
He exhaled slowly, muttering to himself.
The crushing silence and darkness had weighed on him more than he liked.
But now another problem loomed... Damn it... how was he going to get through?
Making noise now would be no different from announcing an attack.
The Maelstrom might be insane, but they weren't deaf.
As he turned over options, his hand brushed the square lock.
The lightest touch flaked paint to the ground. Then, with a snap, the bolt gave way, scattering iron shavings across the floor.
"Well, that works..."
David looked down at the mess, then shrugged.
Beyond the gate, the path was dimly lit. Faint emergency lights at the corners gave just enough glow to guide him forward.
Before long, faint sounds seeped from behind a small door ahead—movement.
Pressing himself to the frame, David listened closely, then drew a compact SMG from his back.
The barrel clicked and rotated out, extending only a short stub.
He drew a steady breath, eyes narrowing, and kicked the door open.
THUD—
David burst inside like a ghost.
Before he could even register the room's layout, bursts of muzzle flash lit the cramped space.
By the time the shooting ceased, David had already crossed to the far side.
Looking back, six or seven bodies were strewn across the floor. The last man hadn't even finished collapsing.
He rolled his neck until his vertebrae popped.
A faint heat tingled along his spine—a sensation that had only appeared since Vik had last tuned his Cyberware.
Now he finally had a chance to look around. It seemed he'd slipped right past the guards meant to hold this outpost.
The dead wore Maelstrom colors, though none carried weapons.
Ahead, the next door wasn't solid iron but had a narrow rectangular window.
A heavy blood-red glow seeped through—the Maelstrom's twisted style written all over it.
Staring at it, David reloaded his SMG and pushed the door open.
The thick red light spilled inside, washing over him.
In his mind, Lucy's voice crackled—she'd tapped in through a nearby port.
"This place is practically off the grid.
...
I don't think I can do much for you here."
In the silence that followed, David could almost picture her fleeting worry. He grinned.
"Don't sweat it...
A dump abandoned for years, and we're lucky the lights even work.
What, you really expect Maelstrom psychos to install net access for you?"
Lucy didn't reply, only monitored quietly from her end.
David, used to her by now, didn't push it. He just kept moving deeper into the corridor.
The passage stretched on. He guessed it had once been part of the furnace's processing line.
Massive machines jutted from the floor, their cables snaking into adjoining rooms on either side.