Acid rain fell onto the half-track's windshield, making a sizzling, corrosive sound. It was a relaxing sound—provided you didn't mind the vehicle's paint stripping off in real-time.
Andy turned the wipers to their highest setting. This blade was another recent repair, fashioned from a length of discarded rubber tubing.
The surface of Forge-7 was essentially a giant chemical wasteland. Millennia of heavy industrial emissions had turned the atmosphere into a thick soup of toxic chemicals; the pH of the rain here could sometimes drop as low as 2.0.
If a regular human dared to walk outside without a hazard suit, their skin would blister and rot within minutes, and their lungs would be scorched into a mushy pulp by the acidic mist.
Fortunately, Andy had neither lungs nor skin. His engineering alloy shell was corrosion-treated; acid rain of this intensity merely made him look a bit dirty.
After three hours of a bone-jarring journey, Andy finally hit the brakes. The half-track came to a halt at the edge of a massive sinkhole. According to the STC navigation, the signal source was directly below. This site had originally been a mining shaft, abandoned long ago after the veins were depleted. Giant, rusted remains of mining machinery lay scattered around, some even fused into the surrounding rock.
Andy didn't rush down. He backed the vehicle into a sheltered rock crevice and covered it with several scrap metal plates. In a world where people would kill over a single screw, leaving a functional vehicle by the roadside was an open invitation to thieves.
Having secured his transport, Andy slung the autogun over his shoulder and walked to the edge of the shaft. It was pitch black and seemingly bottomless. But for an Iron Man, this was no obstacle. Andy activated night vision and structural scanning.
[Depth: 520 meters.]
[Atmospheric Composition: Oxygen 18%, Methane 5%, Unknown Spores 12%.]
Unknown spores? Andy furrowed his non-existent brows. Usually, these mines only contained methane; where were the spores coming from?
He gripped the remaining metal rungs of the shaft's inner wall and began his descent. The ladder was so rusted it was practically a skeleton, liable to snap under any real pressure. Andy had to jam his fingers into the crevices of the rock wall to maintain his grip.
As he went deeper, the temperature began to rise. It wasn't just the heat; it was the humidity. A sticky, damp sensation clung to Andy's sensors. Large patches of green moss began to appear on the previously dry, rough rock walls.
This wasn't cute little greenery; it was thick, greasy, and covered in a layer of slippery slime. Some of it even emitted a faint, ghostly bioluminescence in the darkness. The air was thick with a cloying, sweet smell of decay.
"Damn, it really is a functional black-box facility," Andy remarked.
If Andy's guess was correct, this was the result of a "Beta-Class Hydroponic Farm" running out of control. Agricultural technology from the Golden Age was not some gentle form of farming.
To feed hundreds of billions of people across extreme environments, humanity had developed aggressive growth hormones and gene-edited crops. With enough energy and nutrient solution, a single seed could grow into a towering tree and produce hundreds of tons of carbohydrates within 24 hours.
However, such a system required strict oversight. Once the limiting protocols failed or nutrient solution leaked, these genetically modified plants would reveal their terrifying vitality.
With a thud, Andy landed. The sensation underfoot was foul. It wasn't hard rock, but a layer of humus half a meter thick—soft, spongy, and oozing green juice when stepped on.
Before him lay a vast underground cavern. His STC vision suggested that this space should have been filled with neatly arranged planting racks and automated harvesters. Now, it was a green hell.
Countless thick vines twisted together, filling the entire space and even bursting through the original metal supports. Each vine was as thick as a human thigh, covered in barbs and strange nodules. Between the gaps in the vines, he could see massive, cabbage-like growths—except these cabbages had snapping maws lined with serrated teeth.
[Warning: High-energy bio-signature detected.]
[Warning: Hostile targets detected.]
Andy's red combat vision flared to life. He moved forward cautiously. The STC signal source was at the heart of this mutated jungle.
Snap.
Andy stepped on a dry branch. The sound was jarringly loud in the silent underground. The previously still jungle of vines suddenly shivered, like a sleeping behemoth waking up.
Whoosh!
Without warning, a vine covered in purple spots shot out from the shadows above Andy's head, darting straight for his neck. The speed was incredible. But Andy was an Iron Man; his reaction time was measured in microseconds.
Just as the vine was about to constrict, he raised his left hand and caught it. The massive kinetic energy caused Andy's arm to vibrate. The vine thrashed wildly in his grip, its barbs scraping against his palm with a grating metallic sound, trying to pierce his skin.
"Trying to eat me?" Andy snorted. He yanked hard.
Squish!
The vine was torn clean off. A spray of dark green juice erupted from the break, splashing onto Andy's chest plate and immediately sending up wisps of white smoke.
[Warning: Strong acid corrosion detected.]
These plants had evolved extreme aggression in their fight for nutrients. The severed vine continued to writhe on the ground like a snake, attempting to reconnect. Andy crushed it underfoot.
The surrounding jungle came alive. Countless vines surged from all directions, and the massive man-eating flowers turned their heads, opening their maws toward Andy. Andy raised his autogun.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Muzzle flashes illuminated the dark. Bullets tore into the vines, sending green sap flying. But the effect was minimal. These plants felt no pain and didn't fear bleeding; for every vine severed, two more grew back. Andy decisively slung the gun back over his shoulder. Against these things, bullets were a waste of ammo and highly inefficient.
He drew the chain-cleaver he had scavenged from the Skinners. Though the craftsmanship was crude, Andy had replaced it with a high-power motor and sharpened the teeth during his trip here.
VROOOOM—!!!
The chain-cleaver let out a savage roar. Andy charged in. He transformed into a relentless harvester. Every swing was accompanied by flying plant limbs and green juice. Vines trying to snag his legs were sawn through. Man-eating flowers trying to swallow his head were split down the middle.
As he hacked, Andy pushed toward the center. His logic core rapidly calculated the optimal path, avoiding the densest root networks. Such a battle would be a nightmare for a mortal, who would eventually tire and die. But for a nuclear-powered unit like Andy, as long as the motor didn't burn out, he could keep hacking for a year.
Ten minutes later, Andy stood in a slightly clearer area. He was covered in plant debris, and his anti-corrosion coating was pitted and scarred by acid. But he had arrived.
Before him stood the source of the STC signal: a massive metal cylinder, roughly five meters high. This was the original master control hub of the entire farm, responsible for allocating nutrient solutions and controlling lighting. Now, it was tightly entwined by thick roots, with only a small section of the screen visible. The roots were pulsing slowly, as if trying to digest the metal pillar.
Andy stepped forward and used his chain-cleaver to carefully slice away the layers of moss covering the screen. To his surprise, the screen was still lit, with rows of data flickering across it.
[Facility Name: Beta-Class Hydroponic Farm No. 39.]
[Current Status: Standby.]
[Nutrient Allocation: Excessive (12000%).]
[Growth Inhibitor: Depleted.]
Seeing this, Andy finally understood why the place had become such a mess. The inhibitors were gone, but the system was still pumping nutrient solution like crazy. It would be a miracle if anything remotely normal grew here.
Andy's gaze moved down. At the very bottom of the screen was a massive progress bar.
[Current Crop Harvest Progress: 99%]
[Report: Facility operating well; crop growth is promising.]
Andy looked back at the horrific plants surrounding him, ready to tear him apart at any second.
"Ah, so this is what you call 'promising'?" Andy fell into a brief silence.
Just then, the ground began to shake violently. The humus beneath Andy's feet surged upward. Behind the root-shrouded control pillar—at the very center of the farm—something was emerging.
It was a massive flower bud, the size of a battle tank. The bud slowly unfurled, revealing a bright red core inside that pulsed like a living organ. At the center of the core sat a single golden seed.
Andy's STC database suddenly flashed a red, high-priority alert.
[High-Value Target Detected: Eden-Class Progenitor Seed (Severely Mutated).]
[Recommendation: Immediate recovery.]