NOVGO.NET Chapter 40: The Second Floor
Chapter 40: The Second Floor
Rusty gravel-hopper rail cars ground along the spur tracks behind the freight yard, their metal wheels squealing against the curved rails.
"The undercarriage smells like sulfur and diesel grease," he muttered in disgust, dropping onto the ballast stones as the train slowed down.
’Two minutes before the rail yard perimeter sweep scans this siding,’ he thought, crouching low beneath the shadow of the boxcars.
Ruby dropped from the rear axle coupling with practiced ease, planting her spear into the gravel to cushion her silent landing.
"The blind spot sits between the security towers ahead," she whispered, checking her handwritten notebook page under the dim red rail lantern.
"Two automated patrol drones circling the loading ramp," he answered, pointing toward buzzing rotor lights sweeping across the dark asphalt lot.
Fin closed the distance in three silent strides, leaping upward to drive his hatchet reverse spike straight through the first drone’s lens.
He drew his matte-black dagger mid-air, throwing the blade through the secondary drone’s motor housing before the alarm transmitter could activate.
Both surveillance units collapsed onto the gravel without an electronic beep, their extinguished optical eyes dying into the quiet industrial darkness.
"Clean entry," she noted softly, using her utility crowbar to pry the exterior emergency service latch of the medical warehouse open.
The ground floor smelled of sterile alcohol and dry cotton, displaying orderly rows of municipal saline crates beneath humming fluorescent ceiling tubes.
"It looks like an ordinary supply depot on the surface," she remarked, scanning the pallets of emergency bandages with suspicious, narrowed eyes.
"Listen to the floor plates beneath the central aisle," he instructed, resting his palm flat against the floor to read vibrations.
High-draw industrial compressors hummed five meters below their sneakers, pulsing with the continuous electrical appetite of a concealed regional refrigeration plant.
He kicked aside a stack of empty plasma coolers, revealing the hydraulic lift platform hidden beneath a false set of floorboards.
"The control panel requires a director clearance key," she observed, inspecting the biometric palm scanner mounted beside the brass call lever.
"Force works faster than official keys," he replied calmly, sliding his hatchet blade into the hydraulic bypass valve with focused leverage.
Pressurized fluid sprayed across his forearm as the locking pins snapped, sending the freight elevator platform grinding slowly downward into darkness.
The air shifted as they descended into sub-level two, replacing the clean alcohol scent with the pungent reek of biological rot.
Sub-level two resembled an industrial slaughterhouse, equipped with overhead motorized meat hooks and drainage troughs cut directly into the floor tiles.
Twenty-four cylindrical glass incubation vats lined the perimeter foundation wall, bubbling with thick amber nutrient fluid under dull yellow floodlights.
Half-formed chimeras floated suspended inside the murky liquid, their monstrous frames stitched together with biological grafts and drake bone plates.
"They are manufacturing beasts using human tissue," she whispered in horror, her fingers trembling against the shaft of her spear.
Fin walked slowly along the glass row, reading the laminated Association intake tags clipped to the brass base of each cylinder.
The names printed across the cards did not belong to nameless drifters, listing lower-district porters who vanished during routine gate clearance shifts.
"Look at the early date stamps on these casualty tags," he muttered, reading the faded ink with his enhanced sensory perception.
"These porters were reported killed in routine mine collapses three weeks before the break," she observed, her knuckles whitening on her spear.
’They were abducted from hospital triage beds and sold to this butcher shop like livestock,’ he calculated with rising lethal rage.
He stopped before vat seven, feeling his blood run chill as a familiar face stared back through the yellow fluid.
Brant floated suspended inside the murky amber solution, the arrogant cousin who demanded safety tax with brass knuckles three weeks earlier.
Half of the boy’s muscular torso was replaced with jagged chitin plating, his mouth open around an invasive black nutrient tube.
"Look at vats nine and ten beside the trench," she murmured, pointing toward two smaller cylinders standing beside the drainage canal.
Inside the glass floated the two neighborhood youths who shoved him into market runoff on night one, their limbs mutated with scales.
’The corporate predators collected the neighborhood bullies to use as raw meat,’ he thought, feeling his teeth grind together with fury.
A sharp electronic alarm pulsed through the room in crimson flashes, flooding the synthesis floor with the blare of sirens.
Six Genesis enforcers dropped from the overhead catwalk supports, their pressurized hazard suits bristling with shock-pikes and electrified capture nets.
"Contaminated biological assets detected in sector three," the lead enforcer announced through a distorted vocal mask as he leveled his shock-pike.
"Terminate and harvest their cores," the commander ordered, gesturing for his squad to encircle the intruders beside the vats.
He stowed the hatchet before stepping between Ruby and the enforcers.
"You picked the wrong shift to harvest meat in this district," he muttered, drawing both matte-black daggers from his inventory with purpose.
He did not wait behind her shield, engaging his burst mobility ability as forty points of stamina vanished from his ribs.
[ Active skill: Overclock initiated ]
[ Stamina: 100 → 60/100 ]
[ Agility: 78 → 234 (temporary surge) ]
’Twelve seconds to butcher every enforcer in this room,’ he thought, feeling the world freeze into a crisp still frame.
He blurred across the slick tile floor, his reverse spike punching through the lead guard’s respirator visor with a concussive crack.
The man collapsed backward into the drainage trough, his shock-pike clattering uselessly across the bloodstained tiles as dark blood pooled.
"Spread the perimeter and pin them against the glass!" the second guard shouted, firing an electrified net toward his chest.
"Too slow," he answered, stepping beyond the mesh while it snagged on the railing.
He kept both daggers clear of the voltage as the first guard stumbled forward.
Fin spun on his heel before the second guard could swing his net, plunging both daggers upward beneath the helmet seal.
"Agh!" the enforcer gurgled, his fingers clawing at his throat before his knees folded beneath the kinetic shock of the blow.
Ruby met the remaining four killers with unwavering balance, her kite shield slamming into their formation to scatter their shock-pikes.
He flanked the scattered guards like a reaper on an assembly line, his blades severing neck joints and hydraulic lines cleanly.
The entire security squad collapsed within eight seconds, leaving six armored corpses motionless upon the tiles beside the glowing amber cylinders.
[ Genesis synthesis enforcers downed: 6 ]
[ EXP reward: +23,500 EXP ]
[ EXP: 142,400 / 2,500,000 ]
[ Evidence secured: association casualty tags from incubation vats ]
He tore the laminated casualty tags from the bases of the vats, storing the physical evidence directly into his sub-space inventory.
Fin stood in the center of the slaughterhouse floor, looking at the mutated boy who used to steal his lunch money.
"Nobody running this place gets to walk away tonight," he whispered, wiping enforcer blood from a dagger with steady fingers.
"The synthesis director sits on the upper observation deck," she warned in a low breath, pointing toward the reinforced balcony above.
"Then Dr Thorne gets to explain his invoice in person," he replied, sliding his fresh casualty tags safely into his inventory.
’The stairs leading upward carry fresh boot prints, and the debts accumulated in this basement will be settled before morning,’ he thought.