《The Industrialist》


 Chapter 1: Infused Electromagnet

    The skies were of evesting darkness as one would only hope for sunshine, but never a streak of sunlight caressed the face of humanity. Gust of something sinister engulfed the country as if it was embraced by death himself. Humanity had faced the brink of extinction, moreover, it was the onset of the discovery of a new species brought about forced evolution.


    identally, Science had caused the formation of a new Earth¡¯s residents, the Abominants. Which had driven humanity to live amongst the safe haven of walls. Beyond them, sprawled about nothingness and uncertainty. The only certainty was a pile of industrial scraps and an atmosphere shrouded by death.


    Or maybe, a new life to some insane minds.


    ***


    Lance dragged his feet on the cobbled path between sinuous valleys of mountainous useless junk routinely from the scrapyard to where his house would be.


    Today was different.


    His feet were light enough that the wind would carry his sole every step he took. Luckily, as if winning a lottery, his hands held a rare find from a scrapped Biotech AI robot ¨C an infused electroma battery. An integralponent of an energy source that would suffice to power a vige if partnered with rare-level tech.


    A little spark of hope emanated from this exhrated individual as if sping a fortune, so small, in his bare hands. He clutched it with streams of dreamsing to reality.


    A certainty to end the realm of Abominants that terrorized beyond the walls of Axe Central City.


    The high walls kept them beyond the grasp of the grotesque abomination of mutated animals that turned into monsters.


    The citizens could sleep soundly at night. Walls that were majestic to stare upon as if reaching the dust-filled skies had provided that guarantee.


    On top of the gargantuan walls, its perimeter wasced with an electrified fence, watch towers with seriousser firepower, and concrete bsposed the surfaces hardened by thick titanium ting, capable of withstanding tidal waves or a nuke st.


    Moreover, it housed the most intricate turbines propelled by gigantic shafts, powered by the towering windmills equally spaced along the wall structures that encircled the city.


    The windmills powered the walls and the walls powered the City. These walls protected the windmill turbines, establishing a vicious cycle of unending energy, imprable and sufficient.


    Fail safes were established to ensure the wall¡¯s stability and function. Hence, making it indestructible and imprable.


    Sophisticated andplex as the wall was, it was secretly vulnerable.


    Such secrecy was avable to Lance and exploiting it would topple the seemingly imprable backbone of the walls¡¯ system. Exposing the citizens to every lurking danger the outskirts provided.


    Lance knew the design, the concept of it. He knew the weak links of interconnected schematics. With his proper knowledge and a strong will for sabotage, the possibility was unequivocal to shutting the whole thing down.


    His father designed the walls - a legendary feat that supposedly would elevate one to fame and glory. Unfortunately, it was the contrary.


    Somehow Lance knew that there were loopholes in the design. A factor of it was the presence of underlings, unsanctioned and unregistered citizens, and low-lifers as they were branded. Oblivious to many, they were rooted below the vastness of seemingly perfect and solid structure.


    Others called them Rats. They were Rebels, or freedom fighters, or truth seekers.


    Whatever they called themselves or any delusion of grandeur they had above the Order, they were still called rats by the majority.


    Especially the mid-ssers and high-echelon citizens, they say rebels were blinded by the cause. To Lance and of course the rebel members, they were just enlightened.


    Lance walked amongst the insignificantmoners that surviving for scant resources was the only top of mind. Primarily, scrapping was the knowledge of the trade, otherwise, would be employed as factory workers under unfairbor practices. However, Lance was different from them.


    He had an agenda, a dream of some sort.


    He held secrets of science. Secrets that only a chosen privileged few had grasped on them. Lance hoped for a better world and his confidence, probably stupidity, would guarantee him sess. If such knowledge is paired with better instruments and infinite resources, a perfect world is achievable. Such drive was a dangerous feat partnered with a surging amount of optimism.


    Contribution to this stupendous determination was his newfound rare-level Infused Electroma.


    Upon his arrival, the door hissed. It was his cabin amongst a row of cabin rooms arranged in an unkempt stack of blocks like Legos. Other cabin blocks were decked upright with each other essible by steepdders or poles - unfortunate for the older citizens.


    A male techno voice loomed at the moment he stepped in right before a throng of thin fine LED neon lights illuminated his pad.


    "Master, wee home. What¡¯s that in your hand?" The robotic voice startled the quietness in the confined metallic space. An installed AI (Artificial Intelligence), formless, in the realms of his cabin topensate for his boredom was considered his best friend.


    "I know you can scan it, Jasper," Lance responded tiresomely to a Tier 2 residential Artificial Intelligence as he ced the scrapped battery on the ss table.


    "It¡¯s a rare item. It is not even in my database." Jasper responded after a few scans.


    "Oh, it¡¯s rare all right. I am feeling lucky today! It came from 4th gen service bots that only the higher-ups possess. Don¡¯t know why they scrap it but these models are always recycled to obscure its tech from scums, like me."


    "I can sense heightened levels of emotions in you, Master Lance. You must be very excited about what that item can do."


    "Hmm. Perceptive of you, Jasper, as always." He sighed. "You know how the world has gone to shit?"


    "Nuclear war radiation and global warmingbined with chemical bombs elerating mutation?" Jasper responded snappily.


    "True, true. Primarily, the main reason that these Abominants terrorize the world, is because it¡¯s dark. The thick swarm of pollutants blot out the sun. A glimpse of sunlight into these nocturnal beings injects fear into them. As if instant death would be upon them if sun rays grazed their skins.


    "We all know that, Master. There is no new information to what you have said. Concerning our discussion, what that battery can do?"


    He programmed the AI to be inquisitive enough to cultivate productive conversations.


    "This design, the schematics of this battery¡¯s core can be scaled to arger source, and with the proper tools and materials, we can light up other countries. And that¡¯s one less inhabitable ce for them, Jasper. And it will be a start."


    "Hope," Lance released a heavy groan.


    "You will try to revive your hometown. Is that it, Master Lance?"


    "Maybe." His voice lowered to a sob while his hands articted to the mechanism thaty dormant on the table.


    "Survival rate is close to 3%. You can be killed for even attempting to go beyond the walls. Would you like my suggestion?"


    "3%? How do you get theseputations? Your algorithms seemed to be messing with your mathematic prowess." Lance continued, "Rebels roam over the borders, Jasper, to survive and to trade. If they can do it, so why can¡¯t I?" His voice sharpened.


    "Recalcting survival rate with the assumption of leveraging Rebels..." Jasper suggested.


    "No need," Lance interjected.


    His fingers sped hard to the edge of the metallic table and the weight of water in his eyes burdened his eyelids as he reeled memories of his dead parents.


    Especially his brilliant father became infamous from a vicious product of betrayal.


    "I must avenge them. I must destroy the Corporation," He wiped a tear from his cheek. The thought of them haunted him, invoking a searing rage of anger every passing day. These bitter memories molded his heart to be hardened through the test of time.


    "With little funds, you can¡¯t just go up against the Corporation with unlimited resources. What you have is still insignificant to even scratch the surface. Loading Profile," Jasper released a slight monotone chuckle.


    The holographic words loomed in the air on the front table.


    __________________________________________


    Name: Lance Berkley


    Age: 16 years


    Gender: Male


    Level/Status: Scrapper 1


    Loot: 1,500 units


    Origin: Bay City


    ___________________________________________


    "Wow! You are way too discouraging, Jasper. I did not program you this to be so insulting. Should I reboot you?"


    "Suggestion is irrational, Master. You programmed me to evolve. My algorithms can analyze the state through observation, henceforth, learning how humans are sarcastic."


    "Ok, you smart ass," Lance surrendered to the conversation and let himself a cold filtered ss of water from a robotic dispenser as he pressed his thumb to a recessed Bioscanner.


    As water sloshed through the ss filling up the brim, he was nudged of another scarce resource that many people have fought for. The rebels contended against the Corporation as thetter regted the water¡¯s consumption, pushing the majority of the poor poption, themoners, to die from thirst.


    ¡¯That¡¯s one way to decrease the poption - the death of thirst,¡¯ Lance thought, his fingers squeezing his ss hard.


    People¡¯s survival depended solely on the currency (units), and currency can only be earned from the contribution of individuals to the cause of the Corporation ¨C technology upgrades, inventions, innovations, and subtly the reduction of poption. Secondly, the currency could be earned working in factories like ves.


    With water scarce and an expensive resource, Lance patented a Bioscanner for all water dispensers in households to prevent pilferage and theft.


    What Axe Central City required from the poption was to contribute to the upkeep of the industry that served as the veins of blood, pumping throughout the country¡¯s departments that uphold the cause - the lifeline of Humanity¡¯s survival.


    Currency and brains were the vital ingredients for a role model patriot, as the Corporation dictated, and the rest of the normal people, branded as useless, were pests.


    Commoners. Low-lifers. Rats.


    Hence, the Industrialists and all the higher-ups had solidified a system that intensely supported to the evolution and progress of Science and the discovery of new inventions. Eventually filling their pockets with currency instead of healing the world from the Abominant scums that the same science had created.


    The Abominants should be the pest. Instead, scientists treated them as another scientific evolution that needed to be preserved and studied.


    Obliviously, the Corporation collected samples of these monsters for DNA splicing and mutation discoveries, or maybe immortality ¨C as rumors floated. Significant funds seemed to have supported this cause, neglecting the vital need for food supply generation.


    Lance found this outrageous.


    He knew that these rebels had driven to their brink of survival and thus had fought against the Corporation for misguided moral and ethical reasons since the beginning. The Academics had called the rebels pestilence, sounding as if they were more of an annoyance to the nation¡¯s hope than the Abominants.


    "Have you registered yourself to be a Scrapper 2?" Jasper responded after a deafening shriek. "you have enough units, don¡¯t you?"


    For 1000 units, one could be a Scrapper 2 from a Scrapper 1. Registration for an upgrade in status required a mary equivalent to support the cause of the Corporation.


    However, earning units would surmount tediously trading scrap materials and inventions for unfairly granted mary awards. One month¡¯s food supply of an individual caused them 200 units.


    Commoners, and like-minded citizens, would suggest that saved units will only be spent on food and for end-of-the-world scenarios, not by upgrading oneself.


    A factory worker could merely earn 200 units a month and it was only enough for one man¡¯s food supply, not for a family. Patented inventions would let amoner earn extra units if deemed useful by the Corporation.


    "Patience, my friend. In time, I will process myself to be a 2nd Tier Scrapper. And will enjoy the perks."


    "Perks?" Jasper¡¯s voice jolted.


    "Yeah, perks. You are still a week old so you don¡¯t know these things. Let me summarize it for you."


    Lance settled himself into a massage chair. The massage chair scanned him and adjusted its size to fit his limbs and scrawny back to start the simtion.


    "Each individual earns units by doing jobs for the Corporation or the Government. Most of the lowest levels were employed in factories. Me, I am a scrapper. So, I dismantled scrapped robots and sold off usable parts or repaired them for trade."


    The massage chair hummed with a female AI voice started "Starting phase 2 ¨C Massage intensity increased."


    Lance continued, "A scrapper 1 is the lowest level then next would be scrapper 2 until Tier 4. And each level up would give you perks. Like for being a scrapper 2, one would enjoy a Tier 2 scrap yard and could ess better parts and tech. And the trade is higher than the scraps of Tier 1. So on and so forth. The higher your rank, the higher is the opportunity for better currency."


    "After being a scrapper, what next?" Jasper asked.


    "The chronological order is:


    [1] Scrapper Tiers¡­ Of course, people like me.


    [2] Mechanic Tiers¡­ Scrappers dismantle. The Mechanics assemble.


    Then the [3] Electrical Tiers¡­ They powered the assembled mechanical bodies.


    After which are the [4] Electronic Tiers... These Tiers have the knowledge and skill to program, reprogram, calibrate, to install electronic features to the powered mechanical bodies assembled. Hence, the use of AI.


    Then the Industrialists. The Industrialists not only knew the facets of every level there, but they were also authorized tomandeer factories, assembly lines, and even politics to advance the economy. A Political Scientist as some would say¡­ All of which are up to Tier 4."


    "So you are nning to be an Industrialist?" Jasper asked. "Why?"


    "One, to gain power and units. Secondly, to amend the Corporation and save the world!" Lance responded with half-closed eyes as he disembarked in a rxed state. The Massage chair sprayed fluids on his face to trigger the rxed hormonal state, making the experience more enjoyable.


    "You forgot to mention your vengeance for your parents." Jasper insisted.


    "Saving the world is avenging my parents, Jasper."

 Chapter 2: The Market

    Lance Berkley,nky but tall features, weaved through the popted market as he sought the Trading Hut, almost inconspicuous to the disorderly sprawled market stalls with wide offerings of survivalmodities.


    The traffic irked him every time.


    This Trading hut differed from other stalls in which rare-level items almost mysteriously found their ce. Mostly for illegal exploits.


    People gathered in the market to trade scraps and replenish food supplies at noon. Even at noon, the sky was still dim. Fogmps faintly illuminated the marketce. However, augmented by the multi-colored neon lights bordered the store signages.


    Chaos seemed to define such a ce, despite that, the order of things, the merchants establish the flow of trades, was understandable by the marketgoers as if there was a system.


    The smell though, unpleasantness was an understatement.


    Even this time of day, the sun¡¯s rays hardly prated through the thick swarm of umted pollution that crammed the skies causing thick-cottony clouds. Even so, people could determine the time of day by the Ochre-colored overcast. Knowingly, behind the shy definition of daylight, the sky masked the sun.


    It was as if the sky was bleeding internally, like a hematoma. It screamed for help or redemption, waiting for eternity to let darkness fade into its proper ce.


    Dust heaved the streets supplemented by the grimy clothes of low-life citizens with the unending guffaws of each corner, would immensely irritate a neer.


    Visiting the market was of grave necessity, surpassing his hate for a hopeless disorder. Otherwise, one could not secure scarce food supply andmodities.


    That particr day, his itinerary was different. It was because of his discovery of a scrapped Infused Electromaic Battery.


    Lance craned his head, his sight streaking through in between the gaps of the heaving huts, as he was startled by the reverberating annoying sound of whirring electric rotors that exhausted heat.


    Robotic Police on hovercrafts hummed overhead darkening further the gloomy overcast. Flying over the metallic huts as if themoners were prisoners.


    Their inspections had been more frequent and stringent about the new Orders for peace, pursuant to the hope of locating rampant rebel activities. It seemed forever that they were chasing these rats. Secondly, their ongoing investigations for the cause of one Abominant that infiltrated the city seemed to have faint progress.


    An Abominant that defiled the City was never done before after the walls were established.


    ¡¯What happened, father?¡¯ Lance thought.


    They took down the monster for one whole day, deploying the full might of the police force as the Abominant was aggressive and elusive. It was even summer and supposedly the weakest season for the monsters.


    The expectation was altered, the creature was at its peak movement and strength, surmounting their energies during the winter season.


    These creatures had only the undomesticated nature of a beast but what transpired was different. It had a taste of intelligence.


    Trained, maybe.


    The Abominant, although with many weird forms, was a wolf-like creature equivalent to the size of three cows. With thorns ced on its shelled back making it imprable to normal bullets.


    Eventually, the creature killed a dozen unfortunate citizens as it ravaged City blocks and a couple of police tinmen ¨C as people would call them.


    It was a mystery that such a creature had managed to slip through the wall¡¯s defenses.


    Many were dumbfounded posing doubt on the walls¡¯ integrity and posed chronic unrest to the citizens.


    Secretly, Lance knew how. Despite his knowledge, he doesn¡¯t want to share the information as genocide would ensue for the cowering rebels underneath the colossal walls.


    Assessing the possibility, the rebels made the Abominant slip through the defenses. The theory was sound and the motive was undoubtedly subtle.


    ¡¯Why?¡¯ Lance thought.


    He hated the idea that these rebels, fighting for humanity against the cause of science and fighting for the preservation of the moral code, had leveraged monsters to orchestrate unimaginable events that would destroy the image of the Corporation and the Government. Eventually, endangering innocent lives.


    However, even with this minute but growing hatred, Lance supported the Rebels. His father did too.


    He and the Rebels had a simr agenda - the fall of the Corporation. Alone, it was an impossible feat. With the Rebels, a new possibility arises.


    The Corporation held the most powerful role in governance, almost omnipotent, leveraging politicians by their necks, and of course, with the infinite resources funding their endeavors.


    Stopping them was a slingshot to the moon.


    The Corporation was the savior of humanity as venerated falsely by the citizens. Blindly, citizens believed that God had bestowed the key to humanity¡¯s survival.


    This was the notion that everymoner believed. Religions of different factions sprouted based on this hrious notion.


    Finally, Lance reached the Trading hut after elbowing himself away from the poption. Gasping air and replenishing energy, he indulged a few gulps of water from his jug.


    "What is it again,d?" A fat-built bald guy, with boils on his cheeks, greeted him with a fearsome stare.


    "Roger, my knight in shining armor." Lance greeted with a light smile stered his expression, portraying a fake reverence for the merchant. "I have to get my hands on an Energy elerator and some scheme electric boards."


    The kid¡¯s smile never ceased to curve across his face. Roger grumbled upon witnessing a sarcastic fabrication of joy. For a few dull moments, Roger answered with only a nk stare.


    "These items will cost you a fortune,d." He finally said. "I do not have that now in my inventory." Roger continued, "Especially for an Energy elerator. You do not need that kind of equipment, do you?"


    "Well, that¡¯s unfortunate, Roger. I have a science project in mind and I want to share it with the Corporation."


    Roger shook his head with a series of indiscernible curses.


    "I wonder why you want that, kid. You will need maybe 1000 units for that, or even more, and the boards, maybe another 100 to 300 units. You must be out of your mind! Some people would spend that much for supply and utilities."


    In this era, food and water were almost as expensive as jewelry. Gold and diamonds were only pleasured by the fortunate ones and the high-ranking Science nerds ¨C The Electronic Tiers and the Industrialists.


    "Let me worry about the payment, Roger. When will the items arrive?"


    "Kid, for maybe a year or two." Roger¡¯sugh reached the heavens. Right after, the merchant¡¯s face turned sour to discourage the stupidly annoying kid in front of him.


    "You got to be kidding me," his voice escted. "I can never finish my project on time. Why is that long?"


    A deep sigh was released from the disgruntled merchant.


    "First, Energy elerators are only needed for special grade power sources which we can never have on our hands, so there is no demand for those things. Secondly, these elerators can only be found in Axiom Trench. Can you imagine that kid?"


    The thought of Axiom Trench gave Lance gooseflesh. A trench so wide that all the high-grade scraps were disposed of. Even the thought of essing the ce was nearly impossible. Decades ago, some illegal merchants established stalls near the Axiom until they were run over by Abominants.


    An area never sanctioned or regted by the reach of the corporation. It was miles beyond the boundaries of Axe Central and even farther from the abandoned Bay City.


    The wide trench served as a breeding ce for the monsters, as information had spread.


    "I can assure you, you will find a lot of elerants there and some rare finds. Thinking abouting back alive is nuts, kid. I will be needing specialists to scrap on that ce, and that would cost ya! Greatly."


    A glimpse of hope was once found but then faded as the information sunk in. The Infused Electroma had to function in a stable state as the elerator can regte the energy the battery produced. Scientifically, it would boost with its internal dielectricponents for the Battery to be reenergized like a perpetual generator.


    The design should be self-sustaining, independent from other energy sources to power the electromaic battery and supply the needed power. An elerant would suffice the requirement.


    Lance could imagine the engine humming as energy flowed in and out of the battery and the synchronized noise that the elerator provided. It was supposed to be in perfect harmony.


    "A specialist?" The boy asked.


    "These were highly skilled people who knew the ins and outs beyond the walls. Such skills are rare to find, boy. Therefore, for you, there is no hope of finding such a remnant."


    The merchant snorted as if Lance had no hint of hope. Heughed stupendously hard asionally.


    "What now, kid? You should go along. I have a lot of things to do." The merchant concluded.


    "One more thing," Lance retorted as the merchant turned his back inside the shop but stopped as the hopeless kid rekindled a jolt of energy. "Where can I find this specialist?"

 Chapter 3: Infinity

    "Be a patriot. Contribute to Science, to the Corporation, and to Axe Central!"


    The gargantuan holographic billboard announced, echoing its volume reaching up to four city blocks.


    It advertised a man with stature, square-faced, trimmed facial hair, ominous eyes behind framed sses, an Industrial Tier 4 who appeared on the t screens with a slogan beside it ¨C "Be inspired. Strive to be one of us!"


    A name emphasized below - Doctor Levi Menks.


    It was an unending loop of advertising a person¡¯s ego.


    Levi Menks was once his father¡¯spanion when they were working on a Project called Nightfall. It happened during their stints as Electronic Scientists Tier 4.


    A dreadful memory restricted the orphan from reminiscing his father¡¯s work knowing that Project Nightfall was a sess. The project¡¯s sess never reached the masses or even the headlines.


    Mysteriously, somehow Nightfall disgraced many powerful positions which converted his father to be a rebel.


    His father might have discovered something morally wrong along the progress of Nightfall and was betrayed by Menks, keeping it a secret. Branding his father, Erik, a traitor to the cause, and Menks the hero of everything else, putting thetter on a pedestal of divinity.


    Erik was a traitor to the Corporation, to science, and to his country. The reason was vague and no one would dare go up against a powerful tyrant.


    Lance craned his head to the billboard installed on towering structures and sped his hand to his chest, his heart thumped fast upon ncing at the man¡¯s face alone.


    The lies built by the media about the Corporation, the world, and his father¡¯s smeared reputation had everyone believing the stories, unfortunately.


    Except for the rebels.


    It was convenient for the many who benefitted from the project¡¯s proceeds and the Corporation¡¯s promises of a better life, of a renewed Earth.


    "Jasper, talk to me." Lance pressed his palm which triggered an audio device imnted at the back of his ear.


    "How are you, master?" Jasper responded.


    "I am looking for a specialist, Jasper. ording to Roger, the Specialist lives amongst the Rebels. And they are hard to find. Activate GPS tunnels entrance to the southern sector."


    The rebels couldn¡¯t be found by mere GPS only, otherwise, the Corporation could easily find them. What he knew was confidential information about the rebel¡¯s secret passage which his father had educated him.


    His father was an Electronic Tier 4 then turned Rebel.


    His father¡¯s knowledge was bestowed to Lance which enlightened him about the Corporation¡¯s truth about their hidden agenda - dark and unimaginable that one would call preposterous and sinister.


    "Initializing¡­ the nearest tunnel entrance is six blocks southeast to your position, through the hovercraft warehouses." A direction lined on a holographic map that showed on his iris.


    "Smart. Their passage has changed near the police armory." Lance whispered.


    "Why is it smart, master?" Jasper retorted.


    "It is when the police will least expect it and oblivious to the rebel¡¯s activity. They can easily pilfer weapons and vehicles without suspicion."


    "How do you find the rebels in the tunnels, master?"


    "There are signs for the members. I will follow them and use a name for safe passage."


    They reached an external perimeter of a series of warehouses fenced by screensced with stunning fields - harmless to the naked eye but providing an immense agonizing jolt of high-ampere electric current.


    "Guns, I hate guns," Jasper said as they passed through marching robotic police operatives in the warehouse¡¯s yard. Every movement was synchronized.


    ¡¯Calibration?¡¯ Lance assessed the reason for marching robotic police.


    Their guns were long-barreled, heavy-looking, and with magazines protruding from their respective slots. Their rifles were high-caliber capacity orser-filled battery magazines.


    "You know ¡¯hate¡¯ now?" Lance mused, surprised with how an AI evolved in a manner of weeks.


    "You have been telling me that since I was created. I just copied your expression." Jasper answered back.


    Rebels do have guns, but way less sophisticated, and obsolete than the Government-issued weapons, Scientifically patented, and created with utmost destructive efficiency.


    The Corporation designed the weapons themselves.


    Astoundingly, the rebels survived though pushing almost to the brink of their total annihtion.


    ¡¯They had help, maybe?¡¯ Lance thought.


    All police that had seen him passing by the external premises had scanned him, and expectedly, without further reprimand.


    Luckily, the police records showed that he was an outstanding Scrapper 1 who contributed to the design integration of Bio-scanners in water dispensers.


    "Follow the Cause, citizen! Deliberate vition against the Cause is punishable by death," The robotic police told the kid. Its script was automatic.


    Somehow, his invention contributed to the betterment of society. He submitted it not to the purpose of appealing himself to the Corporation¡¯s Awards Committee, but to themoners who benefitted from his invention.


    It actually saved lives.


    After a few blocks, a quick and inconspicuous corner, Lance turned. It was a dead end and only a minute passageway to the underground was seen, at the center of deadlock walls. The GPS scans suggested that he stood at the given coordinates.


    Lance passed through a manhole obscured from erring eyes. As he climbed down adder and descended a dark cavernous tunnel, the lights glimmered as he stepped on the moist concrete. Unexpectedly, cool air embraced him and passing his nostrils without a wisp of pollution.


    ¡¯Filtered,¡¯ Lance assessed.


    Posters of Doctor Levi posted on the tunnel walls like an election campaign with a famous slogan of "Be inspired."


    Even in these slums, lies still reach underneath. Lance spat and cursed, hoping his hate would vanish. Surprisingly, it was effective though.


    He tore one poster and sped it in his hands which almost immediately, anger conquered again upon pondering the face of a traitor and a liar.


    ¡¯Be inspired!¡¯ As the imaginary voice hammering inside his skull, fueled his hatred even more. The kid imagined a grand scheme at y to push Menks to unmask his ominous secrets and clear his father¡¯s name in the process.


    The odds were far beyond hisprehension.


    ¡¯Little steps.¡¯ He urged himself.


    "This is a dangerous ce, Master Lance," Jasper said.


    "This is the ce where they hide. Scan for signs. They moved locations constantly to stay hidden from the inspections and all rebel members deployed outfield will know their way back home."


    "What do you mean signs?" Jasper asked as Lance pressed deep into the tunnel. Footfalls echoed through the empty dark space. Inspecting almost every inch of the walls with the dim light, he was thorough.


    Lance never missed an inch of every step, even the ground, and dark sudden corners. The signs could be anywhere.


    His knees felt tiresome from the long walk, but at longst, he found a symbol. A discernable exhtion was expelled right after.


    The symbol, a perfectly formed spray paint, was a dove kissing its feet and the wings widespread, touching both wingtips with each other which formed a vague symbol of infinity.


    Why infinity? Lance found itughable.


    "This is the sign, Jasper. I found one!" Lance darted to the printed symbol on the wall. His fingers trained among the paint and felt the smoothness of a finished concrete.


    "How can you understand it, Master?" Jasper scanned it and logged it in.


    "The order of the feathers. It¡¯s a location, Jasper." He paused for a moment, his eyes were slowly inspecting the sequence and patterns to decipher a vague code. His wits were almost defeated by the challenge. It was meant to be hard, especially for those who do not belong.


    "Scan location 6.41.20," Lancemanded Jasper after a few silent and difficult moments.


    "Scanning¡­" Jasper responded "Tunnels Sector 4, sequence 41, Maintenance deck 20."


    Axe Central was so vast that the tunnels seemed to have another city beneath the mains. Rebels could easily hide from police inspection beneath as the tunnels seemed like an erged rat maze.


    Rats.


    "A mile away from here, Master."

 Chapter 4: Specialist

    "Hold up kid!" A rifled man hidden from the shadows, away from the reach of the light, startled the young kid. Jasper was not able to scan if it was not mobile.


    "What are you doing here?" The man asked.


    "I am looking for the rebellion," Lance answered.


    "What are you saying, kid? There are no rebels here."


    "Maybe we should go back, Master?" Jasper said. "I sense hostility from this man."


    "I am against the cause and I came here for a purpose." Lance neglected Jasper¡¯s advice. "I seek the rebellion and seeking for a man called the Specialist." Lance stayed his ground and held onto a strong response so as not to imitate fear from the rebel scout.


    "Who sent you, kid?" The guard pressed on to where Lance stood. His gun was semi-pointed at the half-steady teen and the moist pavement.


    "Roger from the Market," Lance responded strongly despite trembling obscurely from the rebel guard.


    "We don¡¯t acknowledge the name. Walk away boy from where you belong and don¡¯te back."


    "Wait!" An authoritative voice loomed from another side of the wall. Arge built man appeared away from the embrace of darkness. The same model gun on his left hand with his finger softly touching the trigger. He was ready for a gunfight.


    "Why, Damian?" The first guard asked.


    "You idiot." Damian¡¯s voice raised. "We must interrogate him first, why he was able to locate us? Or maybe he¡¯s a mole from the Corporation. He must know something about the signs." Damian responded. His voice was deep and stern. He had strong-built shoulders, a clean shaved face with a clear hint of ex-military posture, and the eyes of a killer.


    The first guard on the other hand was younger and seeminglycked thebative experience. He had lean features, fidgeting in a way he held his weapon which was dangerous for a probable friendly fire.


    "Take the kid to him!" Damianmanded and the first guard grabbed Lance¡¯s right arm sternly. Dragging him deeper into the tunnel, Lance followed suit with little resistance. The lights seemed dimmerpared to the stretch that Lance came in.


    Then into the Maintenance Deck was a huge room, half a hectare size as Lance estimated. He was good at estimations. It was like a junction box yet instead of wires were tunnels and pipes, almost intertwined endlessly until finding their destination.


    Hundreds of people heaved the room doing their own business like the market however only fewer guffaws and the mess. They lived in tents. The one-button-press tents would automatically be assembled and retracted with another press. A usable invention indeed, helpful obviously for those who were on the run.


    Every man in the room had rifles and handguns. Most women, if not holding a rifle, had food served to the members, and the children somehow portrayed a robust support for the anti-Corp drive.


    Seemingly, they were always ready for a closebat skirmish as guards from every corner had their weapons ready on their hands. At first impression, looking at the bunch was chaotic in a way. Despite that, analyzing the positions of the rifledbatants, they were strategic for a defensive and quick exit.


    All eyes were piercing to the guy in scrappy pants and a dark-clothed sweatshirt, a teenager escorted by Damian and his partner. Lance felt the weight of the stares of the Rebel members.


    They took Lance to arger tent with two other guards standing on both poles before the entrance. He went inside and found himself across a table where arge mapy on top of it with three people hovering above.


    It was Axe Central City. He was also adept with maps.


    "Who¡¯s this?" The older guy in between the two asked. He was maybe the leader as the other two just stayed silent.


    "This is Lance," Damian responded and the other guard released his grip from the kid¡¯s arm.


    Lance stood there as if he was confidently part of the rebellion. Unfortunately, he had no idea about their ns and whereabouts. It was his first time meeting them. He only had a name for leverage and was not even sure if it would work.


    "Speak up, boy! Unless you like being a prisoner here who would clean our shits. Are you a spy?" The older guy sternly asked. His hands were on his waist. His stare was sharp, partnered with a white beard and wavy hair. He¡¯s strong built too like Damian but taller.


    His voice defined authority.


    "Berkley. Erik Berkley." Lance answered strongly and confidently now. He did not know how he mustered such confidence. However, when he uttered the name he knew that it carried bearing.


    All the people inside the tent remained silent and a big question daubed their expression.


    "Who is Erik Berkley, are we supposed to know this name?" The next guy from the right table finally spoke. With younger features than the leader regardless, his voice too had an almost equivalent authority to the first one.


    "Shut up, Joe. I know Erik. He was my close friend." He raised his right palm to Joe. "I am Jefferson, the leader of this rebellion. Who are you to him?"


    "I am his son." Lance finally uttered words that would make him a member of the flock. He knew this as his father had told him if faced by rebels, especially the leader.


    "Show me your identification," Jefferson asked.


    Lance swiped his arm and appeared a holographic ID on his skin.


    "You are Lance Berkley," Jefferson said after he inspected the ID. "You have grown, my boy!" The leader chuckled and finally sighed a big assurance of safety. "Took you long enough to find this ce."


    He sauntered around the table and ced his palm on Lance¡¯s shoulder. A smile curved at Jefferson¡¯s face. His eyes were wide without a mask of hostility.


    "I am looking for a man called a Specialist." Lance¡¯s eyes stayed on Jefferson as thetter circled him slowly, inspecting him like he was a newly designed robot.


    "Where did you get that information?" Damian asked.


    "Roger from the market. I told you a while ago." Lance replied with utter annoyance while looking at Damian.


    "Why do you look for a Specialist?" The leader asked.


    "I am looking for an Energy elerator. ording to my source, it is found in Axiom Trench."


    "Axiom Trench!" Jeffersonughed, and all the others in the tent. "You are living dangerously, my boy. Why do you need that rare tech?" Jefferson asked. "Axiom Trench is almost impossible to go through and it will cost you many units. Well not for me but for the man who will apany you.


    "How much?"


    Jefferson did not respond and shifted his stare at the man behind Lance ¨C to Damian.


    "500 units," Damian replied.


    "Whoah! That¡¯s too much of a price! I don¡¯t have that much currency." Lance sadly retorted even though he had 1500 units in his ount.


    "This ain¡¯t a walk in the park type kid. This is war and we will go out there with weapons." Damian responded.


    "C¡¯mon, Damian. Give this kid respect. Don¡¯t you know his father?" Jefferson said as he strolled nearer to Damian. They were tall people, like Lance. From the teen¡¯s point of view, Jefferson was towering higher than Damian as if the master was talking to his student.


    "How would I know? I don¡¯t know your past, Jefferson." Damian responded with a lowered voice tonality. An ex-military cowered towards their leader, portraying obvious respect.


    "Erik Berkley joined the Rebellion after the sess of Project Nightfall." The people in the tent had their ears and attention to every word Jefferson would soon utter. As if they would hear the story for the first time.


    "Erik Berkley designed the walls. Moreover, he also shared with me the schematics of the tunnels." Jefferson continued. "These tunnels served as the veins powering the wall¡¯s defenses. And that¡¯s why we are always safe because of him. He taught me how to move in silence where no robots could see and the routes in and out oblivious to the Corp¡¯s knowing. He is a strategist."


    ¡¯A strategist.¡¯ Lance thought.


    He heard less of his father¡¯s story from others, and by far this was the bestpliment he ever heard from a man of authority. He was proud.


    "So a damn respect would be nice. We owed our lives to Erik." His sharp stare red at Lance, however, transformed into a friendly state right after. "Kid, you are wee to stay. And the Specialist will guide your quest."


    "What is Project Nightfall?" asked Damian.


    "I do not know the details of Nightfall but Erik knew everything. Sadly though, he kept it to himself. He told me that that project was the beginning of everything. His worst nightmare."


    "What do you mean about everything?" The other guy asked this time.


    "Abominants. I was told. It was supposed to be a scientific breakthrough that intended to end hunger. It¡¯s gone sideways, obviously¡­ It was difficult for Erik to mention the details of the project with which the results led him to be one of us. The Truth Seekers."


    Truth Seekers was the name the rebels wanted them to be branded. They were either blind to the cause or a misced bravery.


    There was silence after hearing the story. Jefferson¡¯s face was stered with themand to end all questions that reminded him of his friend. It looked as if it was also painful for him to reminisce about Erik¡¯s death.


    ¡¯My father¡¯s heart was in the right ce,¡¯ Lance thought.


    Jefferson went back to the map and pressed both hands on the table.


    "When can I meet the Specialist?" Lance asked, breaking the silence.


    "Are you sure you want to do this?" Jefferson asked with utter seriousness.


    "Yes, I am," Lance answered back without faltering his eye contact.


    "Erik told me that one day you wille along for a dream bigger than everyone else. He said you will seek the impossible. And the only assistance that I can give you is my support." Jefferson said.


    "Ok." Lance paused not knowing how to respond to that statement. Cofidently, he continued, "Where can I find a specialist?"


    "You already met him," Damian responded after a long awkward moment and the eyes in every able body in the tent were looking at him.

 Chapter 5: Abominant

    Coldness had filled the atmosphere even in the depths underneath the warm temperature of Axe Central City. It might be because of the cooled water that ran through the intertwined pipes that supplied every corner of the city.


    Global warming was the culprit. The underground water was normally boiling during this age it may have triggered an Earth¡¯s core meltdown, as scientists had exaggerated it.


    They seemed to have more information about the inhabitable rather than the solution of saving it.


    Sophisticated filtering machines, and gargantuan facilities, and were heavily guarded, had a cooling stage for the filtered water to normalize the temperature to be serviced in the surviving cities.


    Vibrations were in every corner of the erged junction room as the rebels prepared their beddings within the safe embrace of underground concrete.


    A few watch rebel guards had their shifts, and a few of them had their little gambling just to keep them awake ¨C as a mandate from Jefferson.


    They felt safe. For now.


    Thanks to Lance¡¯s father, Erik. He was their unsung hero that only the upper rebel ranks and the original members acknowledged.


    Depressingly, the biting truth about the recent Abominant attack had flooded his memories again. It was the rebels¡¯ doing, causing an onught on the city costing innocent lives.


    Lance sprung his legs outward in thefort of his hammock. It was way better than the foam bedsid against the cold concrete floor ¨C moist and watery as if one was lying down on a river.


    Damian settled himself to a dice game at the far end corner with other guards, while others were readying for sleep. Spread their foldable cushions on the floor near their tents.


    The little ones settled inside the tents, while adults slept on the cushions with their rifles on their sides.


    A kid prowled near him, his feet crossed as he squatted on top of a thick grimy rug.


    "What do you know about the Abominants?" A soft but confident voice sprung from the boy. He was about six years old, whiteplexion, and messily cut hair.


    It was as if information was discreetly spread among the rebels.


    "They are monsters, kid," Lance responded teasingly.


    "I know they are monsters. Is it true that they were once humans?" The kid asked, his eyes had never witnessed violence before. Maybe he had overheard rumors about the origins of the Abominants through adults conversing.


    "No. They are beings heightened by the evolution of various animals that roam the earth once."


    Rumors were spreading that some humans transformed into Abominants. He opted not to disclose to the young one. It was a rare being to have a humanoid Abominant and would ensue chaos amongst the disturbed minds, such as the rebels.


    Such in-depth information about abominated humans never crossed the lips of his father. He only knew them as intelligent humanoid Abominants.


    The Corporation never mentioned them through the mainstream media. Even the independent News never mentioned them.


    Not once.


    "What happened to them?" The inquisition would never stop from the kid. It was as if the kid had never known about the creatures beyond the wall.


    "Nuclear war, kid. People¡¯s greed for resources had led the world to destruction." Now, his tone turned more serious. "Because of these misunderstandings, they throw bombs at each other."


    "Then what¡¯s the connection with the Abominants?" The kid interjected.


    "Because of these new Warhead designs, the radiation was so strong like they were biochemical weapons. They were designed to kill instant living beings within the st range."


    "Woah! Then what happened?" As if the kid understood what Lance stipted.


    "Then, the cruelty of science had taken ce. They were transformed but it is not a painless transformation." Lance bnced his statement so as not to sound more sinister.


    The mother¡¯s kid had stepped into the conversation after she finished their bedding. A crease from the kid¡¯s forehead formed upon her mother¡¯s intervention.


    "I am sorry. This kid never stops asking. It is annoying sometimes." The mother said with a soft smile while she held his boy to his arm for him to stand and ushered him to his bed.


    "No worries, ma¡¯am," Lance replied. "I can see myself in him. The inquisitive boy never stops learning."


    "You are saying that it is a good thing?" The mother said.


    "Definitely! In this age, we should have more information to gain more privileges from our Government."


    "Privileges from the Government? Are there such things?" The mother responded with a frown. "You are blinded, kid - blinded by the lies of their Government and the Corporation." Her voice had conviction. She had a lot to say about the Corporation and she would spill it like anti-religion if challenged.


    "I am just taking one step at a time at revealing the lies they spread amongst the citizens and into the world." Lance sighed. His vision wasrger than anymoner wouldprehend.


    "How would you do that? You are a lot ahead of yourself, kid." The mother chuckled.


    "Be an Industrialist, ma¡¯am," Lance said, seriousness never left his face.


    Sheughed at that. And moments after, the tension between them became dull. She kept little old toys scattered on the floor in a box. They do not have the luxury of having robotic toys like the middle-ss citizens had.


    They had muddy action figures from ancient times, while the top echelon kids had their AI action figures that really could interact and make conversations like a real superhero.


    "They only want total genocide to the useless citizens of this country." She said as Lance was almost at the precipice of sleep. "Citizens like us that do not dwell on the divinity of science." The mother tucked his child into his bed and bid Lance good night.


    "You said lies. What do you think is the truth?" Lance asked and the Mother held her stare at him for a moment and continued to pat his child.


    "Well, we all know that the Corporation does not really support the citizens. They only supported themselves - the middle ss and the privileged."


    "You only know half of it." Lance retorted.


    "Ok, kid. What is the whole truth? Does it include the corruption, the control of resources, the control of privileges, the unfair tax collections, and the rise of prices?" The mother borated.


    "What you said is obvious, ma¡¯am," Said Lance, recollecting everything his father had told him. "What about the killings, the poption control, and the mass murders?"


    "What do you mean?"


    "I can¡¯t really borate though it is a possibility."


    "A possibility" The mother nodded. "You have a lot of issues inside of you waiting for them to implode. You have a lot of skeletons in your closet, thus, make that your weapon. And you are talking dangerously, kid. In any case, you may be one of us." The mother concluded.


    An awkward silence intervened.


    "What about the Abominant that you released toy waste aboveground?" Lance asked, a little annoyed as he remembered a dreadful memory. He could hear the screams of the unfortunate coteral during the attack.


    "What are you talking about, kid?" The mother asked as she turned off the burner that made hot tea. She then gently poured the aromatic liquid into an empty mug. "You think that we are responsible for the Wolf?"


    "It is probable, yes." Lance held his stare to the Mother. His sleepiness had faded. "The only ess from the outside to the inside is underneath these walls. And the rebels controlled the underground.


    "What a dreadful thought! We cannot do such a thing." The Mother held her teacup though she did not sip immediately. She let the hot boiling water simmer down to an eptable temperature.


    "Why don¡¯t you ask Jefferson?" The Mother continued. "He seemed to vouch for you and know the story of your father."


    She did not know. Lance was sure that the rebels had only ess from the outside to the inside through the tunnels. It was maybe that Jefferson had this n all by himself with trusted others just to mask the truth from his innocentrades.


    He was not sure of Jefferson¡¯s involvement, but only he could probably orchestrate such an attack.


    Lance was certain though. He was 100% sure that one of the rebels had made one Abominante through the tunnels from the outside and into the City streets.


    ¡¯A traitor in their midst?¡¯ Lance deduced and not that farfetched.


    "Do you know my father?" His voice streaked as if breaking his train of thought.


    The mother sipped her tea after a few gentle blows. She rxed against a wooden chair with a deep sigh. Rxation was amodity. A wooden chair was rare at that time. Then, there were hanging moments of silence.


    Lance waited for her answer though she seemed not to care.


    "Yes. I have met him once. He sparked a little motivation in this group of ours." She finally said as she finished her tea. She opened her bedding and patted a minute of fog dust from it.


    "How so?"


    "You will know it kid if you linger longer in this collection of misdirected men. You have a big day ahead, tomorrow. The Axiom Trench is not a ce to y games with."


    "Well, Damian is my guide tomorrow."


    "Even so, he cannot ensure your safety."


    Lance only smiled at that and slept while the nearby drippings from the pipes overhead st against the ground like music. It was maybe the sound of rain; Lance trained his thought with a world with bright skies and birds chirped, migrating from distant trees, and the trees swayed against a strong gale.


    ¡¯A magnificent scenery.¡¯


    ¡¯As others might say, there is an opportunity during the worst economy.¡¯ Lance thought. Such opportunity was knocking from the outside of the walls.


    Such massive treasure awaited his curious mind.


    That night, Lance slept soundly. Despite the fact and knowing the qualms they would face tomorrow, beyond the walls, to the Axiom Trench, had given him vivid nightmares.

 Chapter 6: MAF

    ***


    Daylight in Axe Central was like a break of dawn, hoping for sunlight toe in a few hours. But the sun would nevere, or the chirping of birds celebrating daytime. The skies were always dark and the atmosphere had erratic levels of humidity and temperature.


    We are almost at the brink of extinction.


    Above our heads, a little over the towering skyscrapers are gargantuan exhaust fans hovering as if they were immovable. They are called Multi-Functional Air Filters or M.A.F., as the patent suggested.


    There are dozens of them equally spaced along the stretch of the territorial skies of Axe Central.


    They are our lifesavers.


    The MAFs filtered the radioactive and polluted air that filled the skies which provided safe air for the people under these magnificent machines.


    They normalized the warm temperature too, thanks for the organic-synthetic conts.


    Before, gas masks were needed as people went outside from their homes. With MAFs, gas masks are already a thing of the past.


    Within MAFs¡¯ gargantuan casing held integrated designs that served its purpose. It is moreplicated than what it looked, externally - self-sustaining energy and generating power from perpetual rotating parts consisted of the internalplex design.


    Everyone would re up the skies and see these MAFs, which would drive a believer to praise Science. Like it is God. With vast knowledge locked in an infinite expanse unimaginable by mere people, like us.


    These lifesavers are designed of course by the Industrialist Tier 4, Mr. Menks. It was his scientific breakthrough that catapulted his rank from Electronic Tier 1 to Industrialist Tier 4. It was a feat that only Mr. Menks had managed since the beginning of the post-apocalyptic age.


    He is one of the brilliant few.


    - Gospel of Science, Arch Priest of Science Ministry


    ***


    It was the day after that Lance had gained further respect for how his father helped these rebels. From the camp, they went through various tight-sealed metal b doors and a more sinuous and imperceptible maze of tunnels.


    Damian checked every turn of his holographic map and even he, a Specialist, had utter difficulty finding the way the ins and outs of the tunnels.


    Rats. Lance had be one.


    This exined why the rebellion had thrived for so many years granting the might of the Corporation. They could send the whole strength of the police force searching for the camp but Erik provided escape routes as if a system was in ce.


    "These tunnels are a pain in my ass, George!" Damian said as he mustered his full strength upon turning a mechanical wheel to open thest door.


    Georgeughed as he pushed the heavy door open with Joe on his side.


    "History of these tunnels ran ages ago before this apocalypse began," Lance retorted.


    "How do you know so much about this kid? You are still a teenager!" George responded, his breath had taken over his words.


    "My father, George. He knew a lot of these tunnels and it is the foundation of the wall¡¯s design." Lance answered.


    "You said, way back. What do you mean kid?" Joe, the other rebel neophyte, asked.


    "Father couldn¡¯t exin but the Lost Engineers had somehow predicted the future. These tunnels served as trading paths to the interconnected cities. They can move freely away from whatever danger aboveground." Lance exined.


    "The Lost Engineers?" George asked.


    "Yes, the Lost Engineers were the ones who built the structures before resources were not yet scarce. We call them Lost because not one of them had even remained, even their names, their legacies, were gone."


    Fingers of life emerged at the far end of the tunnel through metal grills that made the opening. Lance smiled upon the site with a deep satisfying sigh.


    "Atst! We reached the opening after a freaking hour of walk. I thought we were lost!" Joe covered his nose as the air thickened.


    "Gas masks, boys," Damian said while he reached for one for Lance.


    They rode out quietly with a vintage jeep and the humid and heavy atmospheric air greeted them as if ghosts embraced them. If without masks, they could taste the metallic sharpness of seemingly, blood that mixed with the wind.


    Their car raged against the bumpy desert floor, a cloud of dust behind them as they weaved through throng of hills of somewhat useless junk.


    He had his fists clenched hard, maybe involuntarily.


    "First time, kid?" Damian asked as he drove.


    "Yeah. It felt like one inhtion of this pollution would kill a cow." Lance said, training his eyes on top of the walls, receding behind them as they moved stealthily farther.


    Heaving gust of dust enveloped gradually the site of the gigantic walls, fading into nothingness after moments of vague silhouettes.


    "Don¡¯t worry, kid. Nobody can detect this baby." Damian said, referring to the rustic, hopeless, tin can they were riding. Surprisingly, the engine was at top-notch performance.


    "Why are you so sure that we are not detected?" Lance asked.


    He heard Joe release a chuckle at the back seat. The two were rxed with their arms resting on the sides of the open truck.


    "Luckily, the Corporation had somehow had limited resources for the manufacturing of police units. They are even reducing their numbers, mysteriously." Joe said as if he was proud of somehow contributing a little bit of stock knowledge to the crowd.


    "Howe?" Lance asked. "The Government should be manufacturing more to have more power and control."


    "I am not so sure, kid," Damian replied, "but you know as always, the Corporation is so influential that the Governor has little say on how to allocate his resources. Jefferson said that maybe they were cooking up a project that is big to stop the Abominants or even enhance them. Just a theory, you know."


    "Not farfetched, actually," Lance replied.


    "What about Abominants, are you not afraid even encountering one right now? We are outside the walls." Lance asked, he nearly forgot the journey and their destination, Axiom Trench, and the space beyond the walls sprawled infestation of Abominants or at least the Corporation preached.


    "We call this a dead zone, kid," Damian said. "After five miles from the wall, that¡¯s we are going to take down a notch."


    "Five miles? How so?" Lance asked.


    "The MAFs red at the skies near the walls which repelled the habitation of the Abominants within five miles radius from the city walls. Especially during daytime." Damian exined.


    "Don¡¯t you worry, kid, we will not fight gargantuan Abominants like the wolf. If we encounter one, they are the small ones that will bite your hand off; these bad boys will do the trick." George referred to his ancient tech rifle that still used gun-powder bullets, snuggled in his armpit.


    After a few exchanges of somewhat useless small talk, the three gentlemen asked the kid about his goal and his objective. Why they werepelled to help him, at least for the reason of their mandated assistance that they were going to partake.


    "An industrialist!" Damianughed harder than the humming machine of a road-wheel Jeep as Lance had eximed.


    "What is funny about being an Industrialist?" Lance asked. He squinted at his back also looking at the other two who were clearly smiling beneath their masks.


    "You are paranoid, kid. To be an industrialist is to have influence. You should be of royal blood to even be an Electronics Tier nowadays!" Damian retorted.


    Damian was right. To be an Industrialist was nearly impossible and one should have a lot of financial resources to support his registrations augmenting from one rank to another.


    "Call me paranoid or a fool, but my eyes are fixed on it. I am certain of it that I can." Lance answeredzily. He had known that his serious answers would mean shit to them.


    "Ok, supposedly, I will believe you, kid. How will you do it? It is clear you do not have enough money just to live beyond the suburbs." Damian insisted.


    Lance smiled. "Avarice and fear are the two elements that one cannot seed. I know I am well aware of your fear that is why you live underground. But avarice or greed is verymon these days. Especially that the citizens long for social status in a way of being ostentatious."


    Damian and the rebels were silenced.


    "Eliminating these two elements will give you sess."


    "Wow, kid. You are really a fool!" George said, tapping Lance¡¯s shoulder from behind.


    "You¡¯ll see," Lance said. He was not going to exin himself further as the mask prohibited him to speak louder.


    Damian was only silent at that and had his eyes fixated upon the dark and gloomy morning. After a few silent moments, Damian floored the brake pedal, halting their vehicle as wheels shrieked against the gravel.


    "What?" Lance asked.


    "Shhh!" George said.


    "Remember the five miles, kid? We are at the border." Damian said.

 Chapter 7: Boneyard

    "A rare Xenon Dielectric is a material discovered by scientists to be able to store massive power than any other typical Power Capacitors. But to be able to stabilize this Dielectric, it should be paired also with rare volcanic tings so as not for it to implode. Thisposes the Energy elerator.


    One unit of this Energy elerator could be traded for 5,000 to 10,000 units depending on the size and capacity. But the question is, would anyone buy it? They don¡¯t know how to use it. But the Electronic Tiers do."


    -Teachings of Erik Berkley to his son


    ***


    "We are in an unsanctioned territory, Lance. This is where we need to tread carefully." Damian said as he started to push the gas pedal gradually, forcing the engine to hum silently.


    "Abominants?" Lance asked. His fingertips were cold deftly unto his handgun¡¯s trigger. The thought of them still gave him a cold chill.


    Nobody answered. Their witty humor had escaped them and sat in the passenger seat like statues.


    "George, you know what to do," Damian spoke almost in a whisper. He turned off their headlights. Silhouettes of seemingly tall structures filled the dark atmosphere.


    Lance felt the coarseness of gale caressing his exposed skin. They were cold and hot at the same time. Perspiration had loomed over his forehead, fogging the goggles of his gas mask. If he could taste the wind, it would be fill his mouth with powder, could be from the disintegration of all life forms. Probably it would be a taste of rotten flesh and blood.


    "st them if theye," George answered with eagerness in his voice, but not utterly confident. His bodynguage was stiff with his left foot rapidly tapping the jeep¡¯s floor.


    "This is "The Boneyard," Damian said to Lance.


    "Typical name for a ce like this," Lance responded, masking his shivery lips.


    Their jeep had gradual turns as if following a street. Damian¡¯s skills as a Specialist had now been showcased. It was almost pitch ck, the towering abandoned structures had cast an enveloping shadow, augmenting the dark atmospheric state.


    If not for the dark corners, everything was gray. Everything was dead. Not even a shred of green moss had survived.


    Everyone in the jeep was silent. Lance saw Joe as if paranoid to every corner with his gun aiming towards nothingness.


    The silence was deafening. The wind blew asionally, whistling immensely that would test one¡¯s sanity.


    "Steady, kid," Damian whispered again. His eyes never left a breath of focus off the road to where it would take their vehicle.


    "Are you sure we are not lost?" Lance asked, he leaned his head this time towards Damian. Sweat umted at Lance¡¯s armpits, now. He felt it, cold.


    "I have done this a dozen times, kid," Damian responded, his eyes stillser-focused, "we do a lot of smuggling here."


    ¡¯Smuggling?¡¯ Lance thought. ¡¯There is nowhere to smuggle goods in a ce like this.¡¯


    "But before else, kid. I need you to pay me upfront." Damian said, sternly.


    "How do I know you are good for it, Damian?" Lance said.


    "Fair point, kid. 50%, ok?" Damian negotiated.


    A few moments hung in silence and both parties just had their eyes fixed with each other.


    ¡¯Remember Master, you have only 1500 units. You will only have 1000 units left for a Specialist full price,¡¯ Jasper reminded, Lance could only hear him.


    Finally, after a few awkward moments, Lance nodded. It seemed fair and he trusted Jefferson that Damian would do what he was told. But trust was rarely given by Lance to the people that surrounded him. He did not have friends, nor enemies for that matter.


    The merchant at the Market Trading hut was the only person he conversed with for so long if he would negotiateponent prices or inquire about item avabilities. He would tease the fat guy more often. He knew that the merchant did not like him that much.


    Lance opened his holographic tform up on his palm and blew a little closer to his face. Only Lance could see the contents. He typed in the amount upon the air against the holographic frame.


    ¡¯Transferring 250 units to Damian...¡¯ As the holograph showed. ¡¯Remaining units = 1250¡¯


    "Done," Lance dered.


    "It¡¯s a deal, kid." Damian shook Lance¡¯s hand. His grip was firm but the kid gripped back harder.


    250 units was a bit pricey. ¡¯That¡¯s a lot of groceries. I need to earn money,¡¯ Lance reminded himself.


    Surprisingly, a sharp shriek loomed seemingly behind the nearest structure. Lance took his gun out from his holster, wrists uncontrobly jittering. Even his weapon responded with a touch of coldness too.


    "Don¡¯t do anything stupid, kid," Damian suggested. He floored the brake pedal this time. "Loud sounds will trigger a mob."


    "Abominants?" Lance asked, but his voice was clearer this time.


    "Yes. Probably a size of a monkey," George whispered at the back of Lance¡¯s skull. "We can easily kill one, but hundreds of them? They will skin us alive."


    "Aren¡¯t you scared?" Lance asked again. His voice was softer than before.


    "Enough with the questions, kid!" Joe retorted as he clenched Lance¡¯s shoulder.


    Damian turned the engine off.


    "Let¡¯s move on foot," Damian said.


    "Wait!" Lance said before they moved out from their vehicle. "Let me scan the area first for hostiles."


    Lance touched the back of his ear to activate Jasper.


    "Hello, Master. It¡¯s nice to be activated again," Jasper¡¯s voice emerged.


    "Quietly now, Jasper. I want you to scan the ce for organic living things."


    "Scanning 30-meter radius coverage...." Jasper responded hastily.


    "Apologies, Master. However, my radio frequency waves seemed to have severe interference due to the atmospheric pressure. It is unlikely that I can provide you with an urate scan."


    "I know that, Jasper. But what have you picked up, so far?"


    "One unknown creature, 25 meters from our location... Not in my database, Master."


    "Of course, it¡¯s an Abominant. There are no concrete discoveries of these types, Jasper. Can you determine the size and form?"


    "Length, 7 meters. Width, 5 meters. Form, scorpion origins," Jasper delivered a report but his voice was so hoarse that they had difficulty hearing the AI. The gale picked up its pace, whistling or singing ¨C rejoicing for their deaths.


    Lance saw Damian punch his thigh with a clenched fist. He clearly cursed even his face obscured behind the mask.


    "Weak spots?" Lance asked but Jasper did not respond.


    "This is shit luck, kid!" Damian spat. "You know what the good news is?"


    "What?" Joe asked this time.


    "Scorpions do not like herds. They kill every moving creature, including his kind. So I am pretty sure that about a mile from here, there are no other Abominants but this menace right about our faces."


    "Ok Sensei, any suggestions?" Lance sarcastically asked.


    "We escape. This jeep is the only way we can escape. And until the foot of the mountain trench, a mile from here, we will go on foot. These scorpions do not like heights."


    Damian floored the eleration pad and the Jeep jumped to a sudden start, like it was in a drag race. The wheels turned digging against the sandy concrete and screeched like hell.


    "It¡¯s unto us. He can smell a mile away." Damian said loudly this time. "Ready your guns, it will pursue us."


    The rumbling of bs of concrete mored loudly as if a hurricane was in pursuit. They could hear the sharp shells of the creature¡¯s legs puncturing the ground in every step it took.


    Joe and George aimed their weapons behind them, training their sights to various locations. The creature¡¯s movement was obscured by the heaving dust, paired with the polluted atmosphere. But they knew that a movement was happening just behind the shadows cast by the towering structures. They aimed their weapons anyway as to where the source of the ruckus emerged.


    "Ready your grenades," Damian screamed, his eyes fixated on the road. Their vehicle swerved frantically with sharp and sudden turns and the unending top gear.


    The sounds of the eight-legged creature could be heard clearly, now. Every step it took was the sound of sharp armor puncturing the concrete. The concrete turned to rubble. Every step the creature took, sent shivers down Lance¡¯s spine.


    They were fast and nearing as the creature may have targeted its prey. The creature screamed sharply, loudly, reverberating against the heaving structures. Every waking second was a nightmarish death.


    A silhouette emerged, they saw it. Their aims were adjusted.


    "Now!" Damianmanded and Joe threw two activated grenades at the moving shadow.


    Explosions awakened like thunder and lightning at a very reachable distance. They felt the blow as the wind was pushed against where the grenades detonated. But the creature¡¯s movement never ceased.

 Chapter 8: Obsidian Scorpion

    "A capacitor is measured by its capacitance using the unit of measure, Farad. Centuries ago, thergest supercapacitor that has the capacitance of 100,000 farads and can store 50 megajoules had the size of a 40-tonner trailer truck. To support this capacity, this supercapacitor consists of power banks (small capacitors) to stabilize its capacity if connected to tremendous power lines.


    The Energy elerator consists of only one capacitor, half of the capacitance of the super capacitor but only approximately 1/1000 of its size. It had a lot of capacitance encased in a small body"


    Erik Berkley


    ***


    Bullets sprayed behind them. It was Joe, trigger-happy, or panicky. Bullets bounced off the creature or dug into the creature¡¯s shelled body.


    As the sound of the ricochet suggested, almost all bounced off from the beast.


    Lance was not sure. He covered his ears with his palms; the engine could not have been any louder. Lance contributed to being a navigator instead of a gunslinger in this case.


    The screeches became sharper, louder, and more annoying than before. A cloud of dust caught up to them from behind. Visibility had be worse. Devastation had crept to anywhere their jeep would tread as such being was in pursuit.


    Luckily though, the jeep still had a kick in it that the engine steadied its top speed.


    In his peripherals, Damian turned asionally to shoot his rifle for a little contribution to sheepishly dying their inevitable deaths.


    "Jasper, weak spots! Find any parts without hard shell!" Lance screamed unto a blurry cerebral AI.


    "Chest...and head...Master," Jasper said, weakly.


    "Aim for the chest and head!" Lance screamed. He saw George nod at that, however, Joe was preupied with whatever useless effort he was currently making.


    On Lance¡¯s right side, on a sudden and quick session, the scorpion¡¯s razor-sharp tail dug against the dusty concrete, seemingly missing its aim. It was almost rapid that the ground reverberated every time the stinger plunged against concrete.


    Their jeep jerked to the side as the blow tested the integrity of their vehicle.


    Their jeep swerved left to right as to confuse the pursuing Abominant.


    "It¡¯s a level 3, Damian!" George shouted, his semi-automatic rifle now turned to full automatic mode.


    ¡¯Levels? Abominant has levels?¡¯ Lance thought. He squinted at the back, trusting Damian¡¯s Specialist driving proficiency.


    Abominants were usually ck-skinned or shelled, withyers of them, but this type of Scorpion had an obsidian-like surface armor exoskeleton that ssy and shiny. It was clearly indestructible, from the looks of it. With the weapons they had, intimidating rifles, and long-barreled, bulky magazine slots. Unfortunately, their calibers did little to the Scorpion.


    Its leg span though covered the whole 6-meter road, moring effortlessly on nearby structures asionally as their jeep swerved to sharp corners. It had ten legs, not eight, and the surfaces of the structures it climbed turned to instant rubble.


    If in a very unlucky happenstance that the creature was above them, if they wouldn¡¯t be killed by its enormous spiky Telson with its sword-like stinger, its legs would turn them to chop meat.


    It was gargantuan and inexplicably fearsome,rger than the wolf Abominant that infiltrated the city. But not as fast.


    "Reloading!" Joe screamed. It was his fourth magazine.


    "Don¡¯t waste your bullets, fool!" George retorted as he reloaded his second magazine. "Aim for the chest as it jumps right in front of us. Save your bullets to significant weak spots."


    George was right. The beast never had the chance to fully reach them as the moment it was arm¡¯s reach distance from them, George squeezed his trigger hard to decimate the beast¡¯s chest.


    It was bleeding ck ooze liquid paired with miasma, apparently residues from the radiological infection from the biological warhead - energy filled bodies.


    ¡¯Organic-chemical infections.¡¯ Lance thought.


    This dark age, majority of the Scientists had been scrappers before, and the professions useful for augmenting scrapping skills were being either Mechanical, Electronics, and Computer Engineering fields. In addition, some useful professions were programmers, Information and Systems Technicians or engineers, and a few of them were Physicists.


    However dealing with chemistry, biotechnology, gic and organic science, and chemical engineering were the rarest of professions. Chemical, organic, and gic studies were almost unheard of before, and somehow these professionals and corresponding fields were mysteriously gone. Evaporated into thin air.


    Medical Doctors however were still present.


    These professions were responsible for humanity¡¯s extinction. The discovery of biological warheads and the gic mutation of animals to Abominants were the few projects that significantly contributed to what the world had be.


    Having these rare professions and technical know-how was dangerous during this era. His father, Erik, had mentioned about them and the corrtion of Lost Engineers - if one would connect the dots.


    "A minute from now!" Damian said, deftly turning the wheels swiftly evading the creature¡¯s attacks. "We are now entering the Trench Hill.


    The tall structures now had disappeared and were reced by distant t bends ofnd. Barren still and hopelessness.


    Their vehicle jerked due to the rough road below their feet. It was a little slope but the road got steeper every second, making it harder for their vehicle to sumb. Fortunately, the creature halted his pursuit, bloodied, and shamefully screaming in utter failure.


    Their vehicle continued to press on, and everything was silent again but the wind whooshing and their engine roaring.


    The two guys stopped shooting in the process. A huge satisfying sigh was released from both of them, perceptible enough even with their gas masks.


    Lance¡¯s heart thumped harder still though even they had sessfully escaped their close-call deaths.


    "Do you always have close encounters like that?" Lance asked.


    "No," Damian answered. "It was my first time. It was so rare that we encountered a level 3 Abominant."


    "There are levels of Abominants?" Lance asked.


    "Yes, but the leveling of these monsters only was established by the Outsiders and us, Rebels of the Corporation."


    "Level 3!" George said "Whew! That was something. Never had that one big before. I almost emptied my armory here."


    George fist-bumped Joe in the back. They seemed to have misced happiness with what had conspired a while ago.


    "I don¡¯t follow," Lance shyly said.


    "Level threes are one in a hundred instances to have faced them. Never had I heard somebody who escaped a Level 3 Abominant." George said, his voice was loud now. He gained confidence.


    "What about other levels?"


    "Your inquisition never stops, do you?" Damian interjected. Their vehicle now was decelerating. Dead trees heaved the sides of the road this time.


    "We will meet another Specialist here. He will take us to the Outsiders¡¯munity." Damian continued.


    "Community?" His inquisition never stopped.


    "We can¡¯t go to the trench alone, kid. Jefferson told me that your utmost survival is our priority and having able bodies will ensure that. Hopefully." Damian released a soft chuckle.


    Lance did not answer at that. But he was surprised that people outside the walls had somehow managed to live among the dangers of the Abominants.


    "Here they are." Three of them appeared from afar, dressed to kill from the looks of them.

 Chapter 9: Outsiders

    "Damian," A fat-built guy, with hairs all over his chest, spoke as Damian halted the vehicle. "I see you have something to share?" The guy said as the engine hissed white smoke from the hood.


    The guy¡¯s facial features were unnoticeable because of the gas mask. His hair though was long, with boils on the side of his cheeks that ran down to his neck.


    ¡¯Chemical infections, perhaps?¡¯ Lance deduced.


    Damian shook the guy¡¯s hand as they disembarked. The two smaller guys behind the fat one began to provide George and Joe with ammunition. Lance¡¯srades reloaded their weapons and discarded the empty magazines.


    "This is Lance Berkley, son of Erik Berkley," Damian introduced the kid, "Lance, this is Fatso."


    Lance waved, snickered a bit as the name Fatso was the guy¡¯s description. Not difficult to remember.


    "You are wondering kid why I am called Fatso?" Fatso asked. His voice was deep, full of bass, curled skin hairs evident on his arms, and intimidating for a kid like him.


    "The two guys with me are Lanky, and Handsome," Fatso introduced.


    Lance could determine right there and then who Lanky and Handsome were. The former was the guy with thin features, and tattoos filling his forearms, while thetter had a touch of fashion in the way he dressed. Or maybe Handsome had a body form like a fashion model.


    It was apparent that they were ready to battle some Abominants, they had holstered not only one handgun but three of them. A chain of bullets heaved their belts, and two rifles hung on their opposite sides.


    "What you lookin¡¯ at, kiddo?" Lanky spoke. His hoarse voice matched his ugliness though even his face was obscured behind the mask. He had bulging eyes with bony cheek features.


    "Give the kid a break, will yah!" Handsome interjected. His voice was gentle but with authority.


    "You guys do not know Erik, do you?" Fatso asked his tworades.


    "Enlighten us, Fatso. This kid could be a waste of our time." Lanky spat.


    "Erik is the hero to our cause," Fatso answered. "I will not borate here but we know your father."


    Anotherpliment he heard for many years came from other people¡¯s opinions.


    The first was with Jefferson.


    "Hero? Well, there are no heroes here kid, are there?" Lanky bullied.


    "Enough, Lanky. This mission is priority one. Safeguard the first package and acquire the second package. No casualties as much as possible." Fatso reprimanded.


    Lanky was silenced. It was as if Lanky was a sort of rebellious to whoever led them but his bullish behavior subsided. Handsome was silent though with friendly eyes. He had no hostility for the kid, at least.


    "Why the names?" Lance asked.


    "Well kid, we do not want to disclose our real names. Some of the outsiders have bounty on their heads. Wanted by the Corporation." Fatso exined. "Lanky, here, is a fugitive of the Corporation of robbery and murder. He does not hide it."


    Lanky bowed sarcastically.


    Lance only nodded. However, Lanky¡¯s eyes were piercing towards him through the visors of his gas mask. Lance imagined him salivating as if the kid was his prey.


    "What happened to your jeep? Did you forget your cont?" Fatso asked Damian after he released a mocking smirk.


    "No Fatso, it is well-maintained actually. This ancient of a tin can." Damian retorted, softly kicking the front bumper. Apparently, Damian was proud to have maintained the ancient vehicle.


    "But why the smoke? Overheated?" Fatso snorted.


    "It was running at top speed for about a dozen minutes. We escaped a tier 3 Abominant!" Damian¡¯s voice was proud to dere a seemingly impossible feat.


    "What level 3 Abominant? We have eliminated them all," Handsome had spoken. His voice was soft and friendly, precocious apparently. Despite his demeanor, he had the build of a soldier. His hands rested deftly on his weapon, effortlessly emting of a warrior.


    "A scorpion. It almost caught us!" George replied.


    "A Scorpion?! What does it look like?" Fatso¡¯s voice was worried. His tworades behind looked at each other, their bodynguages were stered with utter concern.


    "ss-like. ck. Seemingly translucent shell," Joe exined. His voice seemed to have an asional high pitch every time he was anxious, excited, or afraid.


    "What the!" Lankyined, "Why didn¡¯t say so earlier?"


    "Why? It receded below the Trench Hill." Joe said. "It retreated like a pussy!"


    "It¡¯s an Obsidian Scorpion, level 3 Abominant. Didn¡¯t you know? You fecking Insiders!" Lanky sped his rifle, now, training the nozzle outwardly, fidgeting.


    "Damian! You fool! All of you!" Fatso eximed. "Obsidian Scorpions do not retreat until their prey is eaten." He ordered Handsome to go together with Damian and his group.


    They hurried to their vehicle parked from behind them, turned the engine, and did a quick turn without further discussion or exnation.


    "Faster, youds! It¡¯sing. We will ambush it at the peak line. I hope it is not toote," Fatso said before he floored the elerator pedal. Lanky cursed loudly in the process.


    Without further questions, Damian and the other three embarked on their jeep and floored the elerator pedal as well, Handsome too in the back seat.


    "Can you estimate how far the Scorpion¡¯s distance could be?" Lance asked. He sped his handgun again. He could not mask the shaking now. Restraining it, Lance sped the gun with both hands. But still, it was obvious.


    "That gun can do nothing against the Obsidian," Handsome said, disregarding his question. "Here, take this." He gave a gun to Lance. It was heavy from the looks of it. Bulky and with solid metalworks.


    "That¡¯s a two-shot barrel bulk slugs," Handsome exined. "You can shoot only twice but one shot can kill a level 2 Abominant instantly. Your handgun can handle only Level 1 or humans."


    "But the Obsidian is Level 3," Lance said.


    "Double tap, kid," Handsome replied, "One to the chest, and one for the head." Handsome pressed something on his left arm and appeared an indiscernible holographic frame.


    It was readable only to the users. A freezing chill had crept through his skin, freezing his spine, as Lance had witnessed the Outsiders run away from the Scorpion.


    Their jeep sped up to its full engine might. Fatso had arger and stronger vehicle, with wheels that could trek mountainous track.


    "Here it is, kid." Handsome transferred a file to Lance. "Obsidian Scorpion collected data."


    Lance watched his hologram from his palm, showing a rotating miniature figure of the scorpion. It was what he had seen a while back. The details were found below the 3D rotating figure:


    _____________________________________________________


    Abominant: Obsidian Scorpion


    Category: Level 3


    Origin type: Scorpion


    Differentiation: Obsidian exoskeleton


    Weapon: Razor-sharp Stinger, Shark-like teeth, poison


    Habitat: City with tall structures


    Characteristic: Fears light. Legs unable to climb slippery rocks.


    Kills other Abominants within a mile radius


    Jumps when it attacks. Sharp screech when it sees


    a prey. High sense of smell.


    Weakness: Head, Chest, and Median eye for body parts. Cold environment


    _____________________________________________________


    "If you can manage to hit the head with one shot, then it will die instantly," Handsome added, "But nobody can shoot the head without sting its chest first."


    "Have you experienced killing an Obsidian Scorpion before?" Damian asked.


    "No. Not me. It was Fatso. He shared the information to the Outsiders about this creature." Calmly, Handsome replied.


    Apparently, the database for the Abominants was a collected data gathering from the Outsiders and rebels and registered them online so everyone, between them and the rebels, could refer.


    "You will know about the Abominants more when we get shelter," Handsome said to Lance as it was clear to them that the kid has a lot to question about.


    "Luckily, we know everything about this creature." Handsome was interrupted as a thunderous and sudden noise emerged a few yards ahead of them.


    The forward vehicle, the one Lanky and Fatso was driving, crashed to the high cliff beside the road and the Obsidian Scorpion¡¯s feet choking the vehicle as they rolled together downhill.


    It was somehow, the Obsidian Scorpion trekked the hill off-road, along the obscurity of the dead trees beyond tracks that they could detect, and pincered the drive path.


    It ambushed them instead.


    The creature apparently to have perched at low peaks along the curve and jumped to attack the first truck. It was the only sudden deduction that Lance could muster.


    There were no screams as what happened was sudden. The shrieks of the creature were perceptible though and the sharp thumping of metal against rocks disturbed the deafening silence.


    Until all noise was gone as the truck and the Scorpion was engulfed by the darkness of the chasm.


    "No!" Handsome screamed, hisposure was gone.

 Chapter 10: Knife

    "The non-believers of Science were punished. To those who oppose the Cause and the Order, is a direct sin to the Corporation. The Corporation served as a divine representation of Science as the father of Humanity, the reason for our survival. Our savior.


    Axiom Trench is supposedly a ce of livelihood and trade. Merchants, traders, middlemen, businessmen, and even Tourists visited the Trench for many exploits that our beloved City can offer. It ran for years, peaceful and untouched. But because of these non-believers, the liars, the traitors to the cause, these menacing Abominants ran down the ce, killing every non-believer in our beloved Axiom.


    Remember this, Abominants are the creation of Science. Therefore, their existence, although hard to fathom, has a purpose. These creatures are our evidence of punishment.


    There is no hope out there. There is no Life. Only here in Axe Central City, with the Corporation¡¯s guidance and power, can we live harmoniously. Forever.


    - Gospel of Science, High Priestess of Scientology


    ****


    Damian hit the brakes hard and the wheels squealed against the rocky terrain. It was his reflexes that halted their vehicle to the safety from the Abominant¡¯s attack.


    Hurriedly, they disembarked their vehicle and frantically stood over the skid marks made by therge-wheeled vehicle before it fell. Joe was cursing, it was so loud that nearby animals would skittle away, if there were any. George was silent, inspecting the chasm but it was clear that he wasn¡¯t sure what to do next. Typical reactions of their two neophyterades.


    Lance had increased his shaking, rarely ceasing. It was more difficult to move, now, as if his knees were frozen by the cold breeze of the high altitude of the hill.


    They called it a hill but it was a vast mountain with bends of various silhouettes of mountain peaks, and cliffs deep enough that the bottom was indiscernible.


    "No," Handsome was walking back and forth in the same direction. His fists were clenched; even he kicked a nearby stone. With his utter disappointment, he took out two grenades.


    "What are you doing?" Damian said, his palm rose to the agitatedrade.


    "Fatso, and Lanky," Handsome said, he was face down staring at the rocky ground.


    "We need to move," Damian interjected to a somehow defeated soldier.


    "They were my friends," Handsome¡¯s voice was shaking.


    "I have to scan the bottom first," Lance said as if trying to put Handsome at ease. Even though it was hopeless, the fall was too high for survival. Moreover, the Abominant too could deliver the deaths of the survivors instantly.


    "Scanning..." Jasper said. His signal had returned. Their altitude may be high enough to capture direct satellite signals that provide online connections.


    "I saw only one casualty, Master," Jasper reported, "The creature was still alive, mauling the dead casualty."


    "Jasper, can you locate the other body?" Lance asked and had moved even closer to the cliff¡¯s edge.


    "Not in the area of scanning coverage, master. Probably, one is alive and managed to escape. Or died during the fall and his body was thrown beyond the coverage of my scan."


    Jasper was urate. The second option was probably viable, could be that the body was thrown during the fall farther away to the outgrowing trees along the steep cliff.


    "Kid," Damian seemed to have waited for the results of the scan. Handsome was ready to release the hand grenades, both in his hands.


    "Only one is confirmed dead," Lance said.


    "Who is it?" Handsome spoke, he took steps nearer the chasm.


    "The one called, Lanky," Jasper voiced out. Handsome heard the AI¡¯s voice and jerked to his surprise. He took a step back, his eyes piercing at the kid stered with questions. Then afterward, his eyes returned to the chasm below, and the grenades were ready for deployment.


    "Fatso, if you can hear me!" Handsome screamed towards the chasm, "If you are still alive. I will drop these grenades and take cover. I will avenge, Lanky!"


    "Drop ¡¯em here," Lance pointed to a direction where Jasper had shown a holographic image of the moving objects below the trench and the topography of the chasm.


    "Sorry, Lanky," Handsome said softly, he had a refined voice now. He activated the grenades with a series of buttons and it sparked a respite of LED lights that came from its metallic shell. He threw them to where Lance pointed and the grenades disappeared as they descended.


    Then a blinding light emerged suddenly, revealing the chasm¡¯s form, the illumination crept to the rocky surface of the cliffs.


    Explosions! Shook the mountain bed.


    Lance covered his ears. The thunderous explosion reverberated against their feet. It seemed that whatever down below had crushed into bits.


    "The creature was hit!" After the echoing noise, Lance said as it showed in his scanned holographic representation.


    "Is it dead?" Joe asked this time.


    "Jasper, confirmed vitals," Lancemanded.


    "The human body was decimated. The creature has vitals, still, but has not moved yet since the explosions."


    "You better fecking die you, abomination!" Joe rejoiced. To Lance¡¯s surprise, Joe said it confidently.


    "Grenades can¡¯t kill them. It will curl its body if it senses an explosion. The grenades will slow the creature down but it won¡¯t kill it. The blinding light will stun them. These creatures hate the light." Handsome exined.


    "Die you, scum!" Joe sprayed bullets with his weapon towards the chasm. The sound of the rifle echoed throughout the peaks.


    "You fool!" George interjected Joe¡¯s rage and pped the back of thetter¡¯s head slowly. Then Joe ceased his foolish attempt.


    "Save your bullets, you idiot!" Damian reprimanded, his voice echoed against the mountain range.


    "Remember guys, Obsidian never stops hunting its prey. And we don¡¯t want a level 3 Abominant will reach Axiom Trench. We should stop it at the peak line as Fatso nned. We will carry out the ambush." Handsome suggested.


    "The peak line? Should we call more reinforcements?" Joe asked. "We can¡¯t kill an Abominant by only us. We need more firepower!"


    "We have killed every level 2 Abominants using the peak line. It is perfect for ambush. We lured them into this road and reached the line, then there we concentrated our firepower to a narrow point of entry. We¡¯ll trap it," Handsome exined. "We have done this before and we are sessful."


    ¡¯Level 2? But we are facing level 3,¡¯ Lance thought. Nobody asked this question. He did not, too. He thought maybe the Peak line was a perfect ambush spot effective for whatever level of Abominant they faced.


    They were lucky to have Handsome apany them as an Outsider because of his familiarity with various strategic locations outside the walls. His skills might be better than any Insider could have.


    Jefferson was right to have further reinforcements for Lance¡¯s safety.


    "There is no time to chit-chat,ds!" Damian said. "That Abominant wille sooner."


    They rode out as quickly as possible with their jeep. Damian was still the driver and the rest had their same sitting arrangements. The jeep raged against the rocky terrain and climbed to a gradual steep.


    "Lance, I have something to give you," Handsome said from the back seat. "If all else fails, use this."


    Handsome handed over a hunting knife, almost as lengthy as his forearm. Its handle seemed to have a button on it.


    "Press this button and this will activate theser field edge." Handsome exined. "That¡¯s why we call it the Laser Edge Hunting Knife."


    Lance received it. It was cold and heavy. Not a typical knife he used in his kitchen. It was of a different feel to sp your fingers with as if the handle¡¯s design was meant for his finger¡¯s length and palm size.


    He waved the weapon mid-air, the de slicing through the cold breeze. It had weight but manageable for a kid like him. A soft metallic whistle loomed every time the de danced into the air.


    "Careful with it. It¡¯s an umon item. Use it as yourst resort. If guns are to no avail." Handsome said. "Now press the button."


    A sudden hum of bluishser field suddenly emerged, flowing neatly into the edge of the knife.


    Dangerous for a kid like him.


    "Now, it can cut steel and bones, easily. Even the obsidian armor of the scorpion."


    Lance nodded in appreciation and ced the weapon in its holster at the side of his belt.


    "Jasper, record my inventory."


    "Copy that, Master."


    ------------------------------------------------------


    Inventory:


    1 Umon Double Barrel Handgun, Bulk slugs


    1 Umon Laser Field Hunting Knife


    1 Common 45mm Handgun


    -----------------------------------------------------


    They were closer to the Peak Line as the road became narrower. A chokepoint strategy forrge beasts like the Obsidian Scorpion as Handsome exined.


    "Damian, you know how this works, right? Work with George and Joe. I will partner with Lance." Handsome said.


    Damian was hesitant toply as suggested. He held a long stare at the kid as if asking for approval. Lance nodded after a while of silence and then Damian approved, eventually.

 Chapter 11: Conductivity

    Handsome was a soldier. They grieved in silence and moved on immediately. Their focus on their mission, as they were trained, tends to distract them from a grieving emotional state.


    Mission first. Lance heard the stories about the age when humanity battled against the Abominants. Almost all deployed soldiers died during the battle.


    Until the governments and the surviving cities decided to construct the walls, the attacks ceased. There was no hope of defeating the monsters using current traditional weapons.


    Hence, the Government relied on science for humanity¡¯s survival and the hope of the total elimination of the mutated monsters.


    However, it seemed progress was halted too. No news about the development of creating a weapon effective for the Abominants emerged. Lance had wondered why these Scientists were studying the creatures. Almost covertly, if not to eradicate them, what could be the reason for these studies?


    It was so sinister to even imagine the possibilities.


    Handsome was a soldier. Snappy as he moved. Moreover, the way he handled his rifle and the way he react under pressure had immense efficiency, calmness, and nonchnce.


    He must be grieving, Lance thought again. Observing the soldier suppressed his depressed emotions.


    The peak line was at the topmost parts of the Trench Hill where the roads converged to one and had be narrower, between a valley of slippery rocks thatposed a cliff. The road was only wide enough that it would fit two vehicles side by side.


    ¡¯Perfect for the size of the Obsidian,¡¯ Lance assessed.


    And there was no way for the Abominant to climb the cliff over them and prevent the Peak Line passageway. As its weakness, Obsidian scorpions could not climb slippery rocks. However, they could leverage their strong pointy legs to burry them against the surfaces to leverage a climb.


    Fortunately, the steep valley in Trench Hill was hardened by decades of contaminated air, freezing cold atmosphere, and radiation exposure. Thus, impossible for the creature to climb over them.


    Damian, George, and Joe nted electric stunning grenades at the sides of the road that Handsome had provided. Lance and Handsome barricaded the road with modified anti-ramming barriers made of steel.


    The Outsiders augmented the barrier with steel thorns, long enough to skew six people. There were four of them, discouraging enough to restrict entry, even for Abominants. The barriers were heavy andrge but they were moved by only the two of them, to the kid¡¯s surprise.


    The wheels were efficiently ced and designed to support movement by exerting minimal force.


    "Lock them,d," Handsome showed Lance how to lock the wheeled barricades in ce and thetter followed. Thetter pulled the levers from the side and something clicked, heavy metal mps restricting the wheels¡¯ movement.


    On the wall¡¯s side where the barricades were stationed, Handsome and Lance climbed up using a man-made track. They perched on a hiding ce on top and behind the over-cropping rock to conceal themselves.


    ¡¯Vantage point,¡¯ The kid had managed to suppress his fear.


    "What about them?" Lance asked.


    "Damian knows what to do. We will trap the creature in this passageway and Damian will attack behind it and he on its front."


    "Here take this," Handsome gave a bottle of expensive men¡¯s perfume. "Spray a lot all over your clothes."


    "Is it because the Obsidian is attracted to smell?" Lance asked.


    "Righty,d!" Handsome sprayed some of the perfume onto his garments too. "Let¡¯s kill this mother fecker."


    "So, you are saying that we are bait?" Lance asked. His voice sharpened.


    "Yeah. A necessity, kid. Worry not. I have done this a hundred times." Handsome winked. "And of course, Damian had witnessed killing these beasts many times, so he knows the drill. Although, the two of yourrades seemed to be neophytes in all of this.


    So, hopefully, they won¡¯t chicken out."


    "For many years, I was one of the Hunting team that killed all hostile Abominants within the area so that the Outsiders could live peacefully," Handsome continued as he loaded a chain of bullets into the long-barreled machine gun. He mounted the forward stand in ce for stability.


    Nonchnce was still evident on the way he spoke, simultaneously, his hands were deftly handling the weapon, punching ammos in a manner of efficiency.


    "Jasper, scan 500 meters for a moving Abominant from this location." Lance pressed at the back of his ear. Luckily, Jasper was still functional despite the harsh weather environment. Probably, the altitude made the AI¡¯s signal possible.


    "No movement within range, Master," Jasper responded. "I will alert you if somethinges up."


    "I guess we wait," Lance said. It was a relief for him to have at least rest his unceasing cold bones during this journey. Every dull moment was significant to subside his raging emotion.


    "That technology that you carry with you, is it Jasper?" What is it?" Handsome asked.


    "Oh. This? This is nothing," Lance replied hesitantly. He could not just disclose a secret invention to anyone. Jasper is a 2nd Tier AI that can only be installed in the dimensions indoors or in thefort of homes. But creating an AI, like Jasper, and installing on the person¡¯s body was only avable to upper-level Scientists and upper-ss citizens.


    Never had one in the middle ss, especially in low-ss citizens.


    "I heard stories about AI that can be mobile; it is only avable for the deep-pocket Fat Cats in the upper echelon of society." Handsome said. "It only means that you are one of them."


    "You are mistaken," Lance retorted. "I invented Jasper to be mobile on my own with the scrapponents I gathered for years. I haven¡¯t shared this with the Corporation yet. With my design, they can mass produce this invention."


    "Why keep it to yourself?"


    "Gut feel. Something tells me that this is not the right time to mass-produce. I believe the market is shifting and there is a right time for everything to maximize profitability."


    "You really are something, kid. Jefferson has high regard for you. No offense but I can¡¯t see much potential in you. Well, he told Fatso that you may be the key to everything. To the fall of the Corporation." He scoffed at the thought.


    "It wille, Handsome. Of course, with everybody¡¯s help."


    "Master, detecting fast movement iing to our location," Jasper interjected.


    "The bombs are nted two hundred meters from us. Tell me if its in range. I will signal Damian to detonate them."


    "Master, 400 meters. It¡¯sing fast." Jasper reported.


    Lance¡¯s heart thumped fast, hammering hard nearing implosion. This may be the feeling of encountering such a high level of risk, he thought.


    "Jasper?" Lance asked for another scan again.


    "300 meters, Master."


    Almost every four seconds the creature could cover a 100-meter ground.


    "Now, Damian!" Handsome screamed.


    A perfect timing for the creature¡¯s location and to where they nted electric stunning bombs.


    A ball of lightning appeared from afar, emerging through the thick swarm of mountain dust. Without the heaving gust, the lightning could blind a person at close range. Lance did not see the iing Obsidian Scorpion, however, as the electric stunning grenades detonated, a tall upright silhouette of the beast was discernible.


    Its screeches and screams reverberated against the steep mountain valley walls.


    Despite the strong stunning force, the Obsidian managed to move for an escape. Unfortunately for the creature, the stone walls prevented its movement. Its legs scraped against the wall, desperately.


    These stunning grenades were not designed to explode. Perfect though, to preserve the Peak Line¡¯s integrity. The said grenades only released high-voltage static electricity that covered a five-meter radial electric web that would catch any conductive material ¨C steel, water, human skins, and of course Abominants.


    The ststed ten seconds until the grenade battery exhausted its charge. Now the bullets came immediately after the detonation. Lance saw three legs decapitated, ooze spraying, as the attacks came from the rear. Shooting the stunned creature was facile, moreover, easily exposing its joints uncovered by its Obsidian Armor.


    Handsome took the precious opportunity to squeeze the trigger of the impracticallyrge, mounted machine gun. The loudness pushed Lance to cover his ears and receded farther away from the high-caliber weapon.


    The creature¡¯s stinger and forelegs were decimated but had not sessfully hit the head as its instincts dictated, its tail automatically covered its weakest point.


    ck miasma evaporated into the air like there was a pyre underneath the ck smoke. ck ooze bathed the ce and sshed heavily onto the sides of the valley¡¯s wall.


    "Sneaky little creature, aren¡¯t you!" Handsome screamed, frustrated to have not solidly hit the median eye at the creature¡¯s forehead.


    The weapon was astonishing. It took five seconds for Handsome to squeeze the trigger and consume an arms-length chain of bullets.


    "This is for Fatso and Lanky!" Handsome screamed, his arms shaken by the bursting recoil.


    Damian, Joe, and George were still firing their rifles, too. Aiming for the joints, they took another leg out after a few rounds. The Obsidian shell though stood unscathed with all the firepower it absorbed.


    The Scorpion was defenseless. The creature cried sharply, echoing to the vastness of the mountain beyond the peak of the valley. Gooseflesh loomed at Lance¡¯s back as if a ghost caressed him. Loudly, the sharp shrieks pierced through his suit.


    Lance observed the electricity crawling at the soft tissues of the creature, however, ignoring the Obsidian shell. The majority of the charge concentrated at the creature¡¯s core.


    ¡¯Conductivity in the spine and pure instion along the Obsidian shell?¡¯ Lance deduced.


    The Scorpion, with all its strength, it was motionless. Instantly, it emaciated like millipedes do when sensing danger. The Obsidian Scorpion had survival instincts beyond the intelligence of the low-level Abominants. Just like the Wolf, it almost tasted intelligence or training.


    The ten seconds of stunning agony had exhausted, eventually had charred the scorpion¡¯s flesh and innards. The breeze was immersed with an aromatic scent of barbecued chicken or crocodile flesh. It prated through the sediment filters of their mask.


    Lance gagged to vomit knowing that the smell came from an appalling-looking scorpion, churning his stomach to immense disgust.


    The ruckus had ceased and the Scorpion surrendered its instinct to kill.


    "Jasper, scan for vitals," Lance said while they started to climb down from where they perched.


    "Alive. At 20% heart rate. It is almost dead, Master." Jasper scanned.


    "It is alive," Lance reminded Handsome, however, thetter did not stop walking toward the curled creature. Lance saw his threerades nearing the creature too.


    A few meters from the defeated level 3 monster, Lance heard a respite of agonizing breathing. Despite a pitiful site, a great relief filled the atmosphere now that they conquered their pursuing predator.


    "You do the honors, kid," Lance heard Damian say. Handsome nodded in approval.


    Lance took out his Double-Barrel handgun from his utility bag and pointed it at the curled creature; its head though was exposed to Lance¡¯s aim.


    "C¡¯mon kid, squeeze the trigger," Joe said frantically. Lance¡¯s aim still hung while his mind raced for remorse.


    The gun was heavy. The creature was defeated. The smell of the air was revolting though. ck blood had painted the walls. All Lance needed at the moment was to throw up.


    "Let me do it instead, kid," Handsome suggested. But as the soldier reached out for Lance¡¯s gun, Lance squeezed the trigger.

 Chapter 12: Exoskeleton

    "A conductor is a material that let electricity flow. On the other hand, an instor is a material that restricts the flow of electricity. Gold wires are good conductors that are used in minute electronicponents for faster flow of electrons than the average copper wire.


    But, nowadays, Scientists are looking at the bones of Abominants to be better than Gold. They called it the perfect conductor wherein there is almost no resistivity of the flow of electrons. Somehow, the biological weapons¡¯ radiation had augmented the physiological and gic structures of the mutated beings, making organic skeletons into high-conductivity materials."


    Lecture of Erik Berkley to his son, Lance.


    ***


    There was no wisp of life emanating from the defeated creature. A handful of Rebels and an Outsider slew a level 3 Abominant. Unlike the Wolf Abominant that infiltrated the City which took almost a day to kill by the full might of the police force, the Obsidian Scorpion was trapped and cornered to its surprising demise.


    Luck was on their side. The group had weapons thatprised the elements of weaknesses for the beast. The electric stun grenades created light, its major weakness, and nullified the scorpion¡¯s elusive movements. The Peak line was at the top portion of the Trench Hill which was inevitably cold, another weakness of the creature.


    The Corporation seemed to have no information about the Abominants as quickly as the Outsiders.


    "Let¡¯s go," Damian suggested. "Somebody is waiting for us in Axiom Trench."


    "Wait!" Lance said. "I have to extract a portion of its exoskeleton."


    "Why?" George asked. His voice seemed annoyed to dy more time lingering in the area or could be afraid of another Abominant encounter.


    "Are you sure you killed all the Abominants within the Trenches?" George asked Handsome.


    Handsome was silent but his eyes though seemed to be smiling.


    "I guess silence means yes," Joe seconded.


    "Scientists of the upper level are doing secret projects studying the mutated Anatomy of Abominants, maybe extracting useful residues of radiation from the flesh that caused thepatible gic mutation.


    But my agenda is different from theirs; the skeletons of the Abominants are highly conductive materials that you can use in schematic diagram building connecting electronicponents." Lance exined.


    He took out the Laser Hunting Knife. It lookedrge on his hand but the weight was manageable though. Lance liked the design; the material was a somewhat umon level of raw materials used for forging such a weapon.


    Metal forging was a lucrative profession in Axe Central City. Low-ss citizens who wanted to gain more money other than scrapping and tradingponents studied metal forging.


    But not anyone was allowed to learn to forge because what they are going to learn and create in the future was somehow regted by the Corporation. As they exined that the forgers could tap confidential designs only essible to the upper echelons of Scientists.


    Lance knows a little background in forging metals but not to a scalerge enough to manufacture for profit.


    Studying further the pommel to the handle of the knife, Masterwork level of materials may have been used that only the Axiom Trench holds, Lance thought.


    Lance turned on the button located on its handle and theser light screamed lightly as it defined the knife¡¯s edge. It vibrated but smoothly.


    He ambled towards the carcass. Lance grabbed theid legs of the dead scorpion, ck miasma wafted heavily together with the mountain breeze as he raised a leg that exposed its chest.


    The knife defiled the flesh easily as if cutting a cotton-filled pillow. The ooze continued to flow on Lance¡¯s arms. It was hot, itchy, and thick. His de felt the edge of an exoskeleton embedded in shallow parts of the flesh and carved out gently without cutting through the sternum-like portion.


    Lumps of unkempt organs fell off as he sliced further deep and wide. It churned Lance¡¯s stomach but fortunately, he withstood the nausea.


    He pulled it, finally. A slight tickle of electric surge prated through his glove. It still stored a jolt of energy.


    "A perfect conductor," Lance said as he held it in his hand, as if winning a trophy.


    "What can you do with that?" Damian asked.


    "A perfect conductor can be used as a high-level of current passage from high-poweredponents. Average copper wires will be burned over a short period of time. If not, it will oxidize at a fast rate that it will be cut easily." Lance exined.


    The Obsidian shell was not overlooked by the inquisitived. He took two bs of it from the creature¡¯s shoulder with the sameser hunting knife.


    Hisrades asked again as if maybe annoyed or curious about what Lance collected for only one creature. To them, these loots were useless and impractical.


    But not to Lance.


    "The Obsidian shell of the creature, judging from the translucence and the color, could be perfect instors or casings for high-powered electronicponents that heat up immediately after amodating a lot of current," Lance exined.


    "Jasper, inventory log if you may," Lancemanded and Jasper obliged.


    "Are you done?" Damian asked. "I am itching to receive the other half of my fee."


    "Our negotiation is to take me to Axiom Trench," Lance reminded him.


    "You are right, kid," Damian chuckled. "Let¡¯s head to Axiom then."


    They left the Peak line with a smile on each of their faces. They had in a level 3 Abominant all by themselves. It was probably a legendary feat for the others.


    The narrow road widened again as their vehicle descended gradually from the Peak Line and to the other side of the foot of the Trench Hill. They called it ¡¯Trench¡¯ because of the unending formations of cliffs and the dangerous chasm that enveloped the road opposite to the steep rocky walls on the left side.


    The breeze howled as it dove downwards along the shape of the deep trenches that ran along multitudes of waves of jagged peaks that ran down the Trench Hill.


    Hisrades were sure that there were no other Abominant encounters along the way to Axiom trench as they witnessed Handsome¡¯s nonchnt way of sitting in the backseat of the jeep.


    "Are you sure you killed all?" George asked Handsome again. He was sitting right beside him.


    "Georgie," Damian answered, "If Handsome says they killed them all, and then they killed them all."


    "How can you be so sure, Damian? The talks back at the base said that the Axiom Trench is a dangerous ce." Joe supported how George felt.


    "You¡¯ll see," Damian answered. The Specialist winked at Lance. "Axiom Trench is a dangerous ce. It is true even up to this time. But not to us. We know how to handle danger, right?"


    There was no answer. As if to Damian, looting inside Axiom trench was only a walk in the park. But Lance had a gut feeling about the Axiom Trench. About how it was broadcasted to be a dangerous ce.


    The Corporation had managed to mask the ce with fear and hopelessness. They were hiding something or maybe the rebels and the Outsiders were hiding something from the Corporation.


    A walk in the park or not, Lance had ced a stupendous amount of trust in hisrades. Looking at the brighter side, Lance focused only on acquiring the Energy elerator.


    He formted an imagination that all theponents needed for his invention, all in harmonious function andpatibility; could light up Bay City.


    The Supergenerator, Lance thought.


    They managed to drive down to the other side of the Trench hill and back to the dry and hot atmospheric temperature. The altitude of the Hill seemed to have a tremendous gap of temperature between brackets ofnd elevation. The higher the elevation, the colder the atmosphere would be.


    It was scientifically wrong for a theoretical global warming.


    But instead of barren stretches and bends of desert regions, the ce had thick dead trees that seemed to stretch beyond the eyes could reach. There were no leaves, only aical array of varied lengths of branches and trees that seemed to have begged for the heavens to take them.


    The trees seemed to portray the people of the. Dead and if alive, desperate. They took travel respites to rest their eyes but they stayed in the jeep. They took turns to watch the surroundings withoutpromising their seating arrangement.


    Lance could not sleep, too. Something told him that an Abominant attack would ensue during their sleep and would deliver their instant deaths as if they were just having nightmares and never waking again. The coldest death ever that one could partake in.


    They have been driving all day and Damian took the tiredness toll heavily as he drove a challenging road.


    The ochre color clouds seemed to have disappeared.


    "It will be dark, soon," Lance said as they started driving again.


    "I hope we can reach the Axiom before dark," Handsome said. The Scorpion¡¯s ambush took them an hour to set up and wait for the creature to appear at the Peak Line. They were consuming a significant amount of daytime.


    "What will happen if we are still on the road after daylight?" Joe asked.


    Lance did not ask because he knew the answer.


    "The doors will close," Handsome answered. Then Lance¡¯s hypothetical guess was right. The Axiom was different than what was broadcasted.


    "Doors? Where?" George asked.


    "Doors of Axiom Trench," Damian said.

 Chapter 13: Axiom Trench

    "To gain more passive currency, you must leverage two things. Leverage manpower and other people¡¯s currency provisions. There are a lot of methods on how to leverage the two factors depending on the nature of the business or how the situation dictates.


    The easiest business that you could practice profits, is the business of trade. Observe Axe Scrap Markets and the movement of products. Benchmark if you must."


    Erik Berkeley Lecture to his son Lance


    ***


    Their vehicle raged against the rocky terrain, weaving through the cacophony of dead forest. Damian showcased his Specialist experience again with the blind turns, sudden shifts, and the familiarity of challenging roads.


    There was still a glimpse of daylight against the heaving dust, fingering through the branches of the dead trees. Luckily, the forest was dead which allowed the daylight to invade the forest bed.


    "Kid," Handsome spoke while the two beside him in the backseat had gripped ferociously at the side doors of the Jeep. "Don¡¯t tell anyone about Jasper. This is important, Kid. When we arrive in Axiom, it is dangerous out there. People there have an agenda darker than what it seems. Secrets filled the streets.


    But you can handle them, kid. Just be with Damian¡¯s side, and you¡¯ll be fine."


    "Why? What is in Axiom Trench nowadays?" George asked.


    "This is the new Axiom Trench. The Axiom Trench known by the Corporation and even the citizens was run down by Abominants just a mile away from this new location. The Outsiders kept the operations alive, as the Trench is actually how we survived for so many years. Without the Trench, and us being fugitives of any Surviving Cities, we will be killed or jail time.


    We chose to live even amongst the reach of the Abominants without the luxury of walls. This is a fight or flight situation for all of the Outsiders."


    "So what makes you safe from Abominant attacks?" George continued his inquisition.


    "Thick doors." Handsome responded.


    After a vast array ofically chaotic ranges of dead trees, they seeded beyond the tree line and were greeted by a strong breeze. Probably because of the vastness of the empty barrennd once again.


    But to the far end where their eyesight could reach, were silhouettes of mountain ranges. Damian floored the pedal racing against daylight to notpletely retreat behind the ranges.


    Otherwise, they would encounter creatures that lurked behind the ominousrge boulders asionallyid on the barren.


    "Can you go faster?" Joe¡¯s voice was shaking.


    "This is the fastest it can get," Damian answered. "Load your weapons, ready for a gunfight."


    "Sure encounter?" Lance asked. He loaded his handgun too.


    "Just being ready, kiddo," Damian said. "Besides, the Outsiders already killed the high-level Abominants in this ce so we will encounter maybe some level 1 or 2 creatures."


    "Movement, four o¡¯clock," Handsome reported.


    A flock of dogs pursuing their nks. It must be the shadow of a high mountain peak that masked the daylight of a setting sun, almost kissing the mountain ranges, that enabled the dogs to expose themselves.


    "Jasper, scan," Lancemanded.


    "Don¡¯t bother,d," Handsome said. "They are level 1 Groundlings, as what we name them. Dog-like creatures may be a cross-type with cats. Furry little annoying beasts."


    "Let¡¯s st them," George suggested.


    "No need. You¡¯ll be wasting your bullets," Handsome held George¡¯s barrel as if thetter was trying to aim at the pursuing party. "They can only run up to 70 Kilometers per hour. Our vehicle is running at almost a hundred. So catching up is when our vehicle will stop for a prayer."


    The growls emerged from random ces but faded away in every waking second. The pack started to decelerate as they felt hopeless for a sumptuous meal of Outsiders and Insiders. Until they were gone with the dark and dusty atmosphere.


    "Surprising though, there are only a few Abominants," Lance mused.


    "You¡¯ll know when you arrive in the Trench," Handsome said, he winked at the kid.


    As they reached a sinuous narrow road betweenrge boulders like hills, after the t bends of barrennd, their vehicle decelerated. The road¡¯s entry was so inconspicuously located that one would assume a dead end.


    "We are lucky. We arrive on time," Handsome sighed.


    "Thank you, Handsome. I am sorry for Fatso and Lanky," Lance portrayed gratitude.


    "Don¡¯t worry, kid. I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s part of their job and they know the risks in every mission. I am still hopeful though that Fatso has survived the fall."


    "Then why aren¡¯t we driving back?" Lance asked.


    "Don¡¯t be silly, kid. You are priority one, remember. Fatso instructed me that you should reach the trench alive."


    Even to his superior¡¯s deathbed, Handsome followed the directions to the letter.


    Their vehicle stopped upon reaching arge circr metallic door. The colossal door reached about six meters in diameter, enclosed by arge whole of stony wall. Nobody would dare to linger upon narrow dark roads and between towering boulders.


    Strategic, Lance admired.


    Handsome waved at the closed door and it hissed, releasing a thick pressurized air from the inside. They could feel the burst of wind caressing their bodies.


    The hinges creaked loudly, battling rust and dust as metallic surfaces had friction with each other. The circr metal b opened, thick and heavy looking, like the one they used withrge ships¡¯ structures.


    Damian drove inside slowly and was halted by two heavily armed Outsiders. Handsome had a way with people, maybe he spoke with authority and calmness that people would easily believe in whatever he preached.


    Handsome waved at the Outsiders, and proceeded without further question. Therge door closed behind them.


    "Dpression in five, four..." A female AI voice loomed inside the enclosed four-walled chamber. The vents hissed, absorbing the contaminated air from the outside.


    "Dpressionplete," The AI said after five seconds. Then the secondrge door opened with the same dimension as the first door behind them.


    Damian drove inside and a vibrant atmosphere greeted the visitors with a discord of people and variety of market stalls. The guffaws of various people were deafening, simr to Axe Market.


    But it was livelier. The lights surprised them with colorful strobes, blinding them with delight.


    "Wee to Axiom Trench Trading Market!" Damian announced.


    bbergasted, the sprawling rocky figures, mountain ranges, and deathly threats at the opposite side of the door greatly contradicted the festivities inside.


    The lights were bright and multi-colored, people of various skins and clothes heaved the streets, and unkempt stalls were established alongside the roads. Such festivity was never witnessed before by the Insiders, especially the first-timers.


    "You can take off your masks," Damian said. "Let¡¯s head to the Seer." They drove their jeep along the heaving poption. Most of the onlookers had a stare that would punch holes in one¡¯s soul. Making eye contact with the locals was absolute stupidity.


    They took off their masks and inhaled deep surprisingly fresh filtered air.


    Lance followed suit. He was surprised to have filtered air outside the walls, way beyond the reach of the MAFs. Lance surveyed the high ceilings, about six stories high, enclosed, surprisingly, they had an MAF on their own. Two of them were mounted at the centermost part of the cave.


    But instead of hovering in mid-air, they were embedded against the ceiling, upside down to where the exhaust fans were facing downwards and the sides were sealed by rocky ceiling. The filtration chambers opposite the fan¡¯s body seemed to ess the external environment to absorb oxygen to supply filtered air inside the cave.


    Axiom Trench was a man-made cave, hidden perfectly from the police scans.


    ¡¯Prototypes. Somehow they managed to steal the functional prototypes made by Levi Menks,¡¯ Lance thought.


    "I know what you¡¯re thinking, kiddo," Handsome said. "Maybe there is apse in the filtration by the prototypes."


    "Yeah. I think so." Lance responded. "These designs were amended countless times just to perfect the air cycle between the filtration chambers. They tweak the motors inside to create a continuous flow of air through various filtration levels. It needs intricate calctions to arrive at the needed motor sizes and capacity. We may be inhaling a bit of contaminated air here."


    "Not ording to the contamination readers," Handsome pointed at therge digital disy, reading the current radiation states in the atmosphere. It was ced way above the stalls and conspicuous to all marketgoers.


    The air was filtered as the disy suggested.


    "How so?" Lance asked.


    "A brilliant scientist came to these parts of thend and did what you said. We did not catch his name. He just came to help without asking in return. Some religious sects here say he¡¯s an angel in disguise."


    ¡¯The Lost Engineers probably,¡¯ Lance thought.

 Chapter 14: Seer

    Anyone would be fascinated by the market stalls and the variety of merchandise disyed. Lance identified the other scrap items as Umon to Rare levels; some were Masterworks -the highest amongponent levels.


    ¡¯Masterworks? This could be fun,¡¯ Lance thought.


    "Jasper, scan that," Lance pointed to a Masterwork-level item that hung precariously from the stall as their jeep slowly passed by.


    "Scanning..." Jasper said.


    "Careful with that, kid," Handsome reminded. Lance nodded in agreement.


    "Master," Jasper whispered, "it could be an optic wave signal amplifier from its cylindrical tube design with digital reflectors inside it, connected with an optic wavelength enhancer."


    "Why is it a masterwork-level item, kid?" Damian asked as he drove the jeep to a turn.


    "Maybe no one knows how it works but thatponent is a crucial part ofser rifles used in the police force. The optical wavelength is enhanced exponentially when it is paired with a DC-charged battery while its tube amplifies the optic wavelength through its digital reflector design. It will store a lot of optic energy and through time, it will materialize tobustibility." Lance exined.


    "Well, you lost me somewhere in between all of what you have lectured," Damian teased. "We will find your Energy elerator after we register you. First and foremost, the other half of my payment, kid."


    "It¡¯s all business with you, Damian," Lance said. A holographic frame appeared above his palm and transferred 250 units to Damian. "I like it, fair."


    "Sessfully transferred, Master, 250 units," Jasper said.


    Damian checked his hologram too, "Thanks. Nice doing business with you, kid. I will share some with Handsome as well."


    Lance was unsure at first that the price was only 500 units for a Specialist. As a general knowledge, traveling to Axiom Trench was suicide. Although, 500 units was equivalent to 2 months of groceries. However, it was too low for a high-risk mission.


    Hriously, the pun was on him and his two neophyterades, George and Joe.


    Axiom Trench was a marketce for illegal exploits unregted by the reach of Axe Central. Damian and Jefferson did not emphasize that it was no longer an Abominant nest. Though, the journey through the deathly city and the dead forestprised the expected risk.


    "We are here," Damian said. They disembarked the vehicle. Each of them released a deep satisfying sigh. Lance thanked Handsome. They shook hands. It was his first time to witness Handsome¡¯s face without the mask.


    His name was appropriate for his facial features ¨C well-trimmed facial hair, square jaw, and blue eyes. Joe¡¯s face on the other hand was almost the opposite. Moreover, Joe had a slender build, however, his arms were hardened by tremendousbor.


    "See ya, kid," Handsome smiled, despite that, it was apparent to the soldier saddened by the sessful mission. It cost him his friends. Having friends during this dark time was seldom. One would not witness true friends inside Axe Central without having an agenda.


    They ambled inside the tent. It was arge tent. Thergest among a throng of stalls that sprawled the roadside. Lance sauntered behind Damian and their tworades.


    Lance found three caged creatures, the size of Dobermans, along the tent¡¯s entrance. They were Abominants of the same originating dog animal but of different mutated hybrids.


    One was mixed with an armadillo, its skin had scales like a shell, smooth and hard, covering from its head to its pointy tail. The second one seemed to have a skin-like grass; its ears were tree leaves. The most horrendous-looking one was unfortunate, it was hairless mixed with a rat.


    The cages were chained and even their necks too. Abominants were known to be aggressive, especially in the winter season and the smell of human blood boiled their innards that triggered their hunting state.


    "Don¡¯t be afraid," the Seer said, her voice was shaky but loud.


    "I am not," Lance said as he stepped forward nearer to the Seer, hisrades were behind.


    She smiled at that. Her face was wrinkled, mid-50s. She had tattoos all over that ran along her cheeks down to her neck and blew up to her arms, like sleeves. Apparently, her tattoos had meaning as if depicting the global historical chain of events.


    She sat on a throne-like chair, with various gifts surrounded at the bottom. Below her, which reached Lance¡¯s feet, was a thick carpetprised of red fur streaks, probably from an animal or an Abominant.


    It¡¯s an Abominant. Lance concluded.


    He felt the Seer¡¯s stare like a shotgun, ready to blow anytime that would maim his soul. Therefore, he held his stare too without being fancied with the surroundings.


    "You three are Newbies in Axiom. Youe to register yourselves?" The Seer asked.


    "This is Lance Berkley, son of Erik Berkley, former Electronic Tier of the Corporation. The unsung hero of the Rebel faction," Damian announced.


    "I knew Erik, Damian!" The Seer lifted a palm to Damian, "You don¡¯t need to tell me his achievements," The Seer retorted. "So what can I do for you, son of Erik Berkley?"


    Lance just noticed the Seer¡¯s golden eyes as they stared at him. They matched perfectly with her clothes - golden silk with weird patterns along the seam lines.


    "Ie to acquire an Energy elerator," Lance said, his eyes never leaving the Seer¡¯s. He felt like the Seer¡¯s soul was reaching for him spiritually touching him. Soul to Soul, her truth against his truth. An inexplicable feeling though,forting.


    "Why such in a hurry, young one?" The Seer stood up. Her body was shaking upon mustering her strength to her thighs.


    Surprisingly, she stood straight and strong right after a short struggle. Before the Seer¡¯s sess, Lance heard whirring sounds of small servo motors as the Seer straightened her stand. She was effortless after her legs stabilized, and the mechanical turning noise faded.


    She smiled at the kid.


    "You probably wonderin¡¯ why I can stand this straight despite my age and without the help of a walking stick." She showed her metallic prosthetics thatposed a portion of her legs and knees.


    "I bet you have never seen this before. A cybeic materialbined perfectly with organic flesh." Her voice bathed with pride.


    The kid was speechless after witnessing a scientific breakthrough.


    "My father had mentioned it," Lance finally spoke. "It was one of his projects to enhance organic material growth by the use of electric current. Thepatibility was tricky as he said, organic and inorganic materials don¡¯t match well if not used by Masterwork level metallicpositions."


    "You have a lot to learn, still, son of Berkley," The Seer said, "But what lies ahead in your journey will unfold mysteries and answers to your questions."


    The Seerughed.


    "Come," the Seer apanied Lance to a chair connected to the digital controls at its side. A man in ab coat had made apparent modifications using the digital tform.


    The site of it haunted the kid.


    "Please sit down," The Seer requested and Lance followed. "The Doctor will administer a chip in your foreskin, just beyond the lines of your epidermis. This will allow you to enter this domain without being shot."


    "Doctor?" Lance asked as he ced both arms on the armchair. They snug perfectly,fortable like his massage chair at his pad.


    "Don¡¯t worry, I am a medical doctor," The Doctor said. He had several lenses on his eyes moving ordingly and efficiently as the Doctor adjusted by a button on his temple.


    "I guess your name is also Doctor," Lance said. He just asked to ease the nervousness.


    "That¡¯s right, we don¡¯t use our names here," Doctor replied. "Well, I am the only Doctor here in Axiom Trench."


    After a few adjustments and settings, buttons clicking, and whirring of mechanical surgical arms, the chip was inserted at the foreskin of his nape. He felt a sudden stab by a pointy knife only burying the tip. The pain was abrupt, however, it was surprisingly gone for about three seconds.


    Another surgical mechanical arm emerged. It held the anesthetic syringe that nullified the pain so promptly after cold specks of liquid. The searing pain was reced by a soothing mint-like lotion, delivering a freezing jolt. Comfortable in some way.


    "Let me tell you this, son of Berkley," The Seer mused. "Axiom Trench and the Outsiders are different people than you used to deal with in the Surviving City."


    "How so?" Lance asked simultaneously inspecting his nape. A minute lump on the foreskin felt by his fingertips. Undergoing the same process, the two other neophytes had their shots as well.


    "If they don¡¯t like you, they will deceive you. So be careful how you deal with these people. They don¡¯t recognize your name or whoever you are. If you are a threat, especially if you live inside the city, they will not disclose anything to you. And you won¡¯t get what you need. It will be wasteing here with an empty hand."


    "These people lived beyond the walls. The dead Cities are considered homes. Uwful, unsanctioned, and the risk of Abominants. They know how to live in hiding from the scents of the creatures. Therefore, these people survived the harshest environments and learned to live beyond the reach of the Corporation. They don¡¯t have dreams like what you have.


    They only live to see another day until they die at old age. So, I am telling you, always expect the worst."


    "Do you know somebody that can give me what I need?" Lance asked.


    "Unfortunately, I can only give you a name but it is up to you if he can give you what you need. If it¡¯s avable and youe into agreeable terms with the merchant, then you are in business."


    "Can you not help exin to the Merchant what I need?"


    "Something told me that this is on you, son of Berkley. You must experience firsthand how you deal with difficult and different personalities. I know your father and he wanted you to experience these challenges for you to grow to be a better trader. And besides, I believe that everything your father knew, he had taught you. So, let¡¯s put his teachings to the test, shall we?"


    "Don¡¯t worry, Seer," Damian interjected, "I will keep him safe."


    "You better be, Damian. If what Erik said is true, then this kid holds the secrets of Science. ording to him, he holds the key to our salvation."


    George and Joe held a stare agreeable to the uing responsibility - keeping Lance safe from foreseeable harm. Otherwise, Jefferson would kill them.


    "What do you mean the key to our salvation?" Joe asked.


    "That¡¯s why it¡¯s called a secret, dumbass!" George mocked.


    "My father only told me that the secret to humanity¡¯s Salvation is in Bay City. That¡¯s why I n to power back Bay City using the Energy elerator."


    "Bay City?" Holding her abdomen, the Seerughed hard. The whirring of the servo motors underneath her golden silk emerged. "Bay City is a different story, son of Berkley. It bes a hive now by Abominants, at least a quarter of its boundaries."


    Lance frowned and shook his head. "I got you, Seer. Now tell me the name of this merchant." Hope still emanated at the back of his head.


    "Merchant One. He is the first Merchant ever in Axiom Trench." The Seer responded.


    "Well, everything else. I guess you are all registered and you may enjoy the festivities," she continued.

 Chapter 15: Trade

    "To understand the business of trade, you should study andply with four factors. Firstly, you must identify the needs of the market. What are the Scientists manufacturingtely? Or what is the trend in the higher society of the City?


    Secondly; look for suppliers for yourponent. The harder the item to find, the higher its demand. You can¡¯t trade an item if you don¡¯t have suppliers. It is better to look for items that can¡¯t be found in the City Market, or even in Southern City Trade Centers.


    Thirdly; The delivery. How do you deliver them to the Scientists or the buyers? Can the supplier meet the demand?


    Fourthly; Pricing. You must of course know the rarity of the items. The higher their level of rarity, the more expensive the item could be. You must have good margins, especially since these items are dangerous to find.


    Remember, every business is scble. Always think of it as a Currency tree. That your scheme or business model should earn currency even without your presence."


    Erik Berkley lectures to his son, Lance


    ***


    Lance had a good look as he passed by a multitude of market stalls with unkempt arrangements. The merchants held deathly stares though, filled with hostility.


    Strobe neon lights heaved the marketce, even the Outsiders had streaks of LED lights on their clothing. They had a fashion of their own.


    ncing at the piercing eyes of the onlookers was never a great idea, haunting to have gawked upon judging eyes. Rather, Lance walked with his head bent low, only training to the disys, relying solely on Damian¡¯s assistance to locate Merchant One.


    The people seemed to be aggressive and intimidating. They all had their weapons on their sides. The scenery suggests that one would tread carefully in how to negotiate and the tactful use of words so as not to offend the other party.


    "Merchant One," Damian called upon a wide stall disying an array of unorganized and uncategorized items as they arrived. "There¡¯s a customer."


    "Wait!" The merchant responded behind an adjacent room located at the back of the storefront. They heard footfalls and a concerningmotion of nking metals on the other side of the room, paired with asional cursing. The entire block could hear him.


    "You better be customers or else, you¡¯ll ruin my fantastic day!" The merchant went out of the room with a caged Abominant, fat and curled into a ball. He ced it along with his other disys.


    He spat afterward.


    The caged Abominant was familiar to him. He might have found it in theboratories of the Academy of Science or Research Center Extensions.


    The merchant was apparent in histe 40¡¯s, slender body but was agile-looking, with his beard reaching to his abdomen. He had a lot of items andponents that were disyed on the store¡¯s fa?ade. He had guns too and hunting knives.


    George and Joe were fancied by the hung weapons in the disy area. They inspected the weapons as if they were buyers.


    "Merchant One, we are looking for..." Damian was interjected with the old man¡¯s palm facing towards him.


    "Insiders you are! I see. They call me Merchant here. Other merchants are called by their numbers. I don¡¯t wanna be called by One! It sounds old." Merchant spat.


    "I want an Energy elerator!" Lance said without hesitation. The journey was tiresome and dangerous. They reached their destination sessfully and wasting time in a hostile environment was not a sound option.


    "You¡¯re in luck kid. This is the only ce that sells those kinds of things. Masterwork-level items like the Energy elerator. Let me get it." A smile streaked upon the Merchant¡¯s face, recing every hint of bad mood.


    "You two! Help me get it at the back," Merchant pointed at George and Joe and they scurried immediately at the back.


    They took the elerator from the other side of the room. It was elongated and heavy as Joe and George were straining to get it, perspiration loomed along their foreheads.


    A sudden thud was discernible as the elerant was ced on a wooden disy table. Theponentprises four cylindrical tubes, exhaust chambers, a digital disy, and serious mechanical housing. It was like a miniature jet¡¯s engine.


    "3000 units for a Masterwork level item. Energy elerant. I got this from the bowels of Terrabitha. You know, the third surviving city of Oroz Continent before the walls? Due south, kid. Due south.


    The price is 3000 units." The Merchant emphasized the source of theponent. A crucial part of a negotiation is to justify the soaring high price of the product.


    "What!" Lance eximed. "I thought I could get the elerant for free!" Lance turned his nce to Damian.


    "Oh no, kid! There is no free in this town. No. No. No." Merchant retorted. "3000 units is 3000 units.


    No more, no less." Merchant shook his head, his face turned to a frown or disappointment.


    "I only have a few units left in my ount. There must be some other way that I can get my hands on these without paying such a price."


    "You can scour in Terrabitha if you like." Merchant had a sarcastic smile.


    "You can¡¯t kid," Damian interjected.


    "We should go, Damian!" Lance said strongly. Neglecting rational thoughts.


    "No. Terrabitha will take us a week to travel that far. We can¡¯t survive going South for a day, maybe." Damian retorted.


    Damian was right. Lance felt hopeless. He knew about Terrabitha. It was the first City conquered by the menace of Abominants. It was supposedly at the forefront of the Cleanse ¨C the eradication of Abominants in the Southern part of Oroz.


    Probably, Handsome and Damian were stationed there when they were on active duty. Unfortunately, they fought a losing war. They managed to kill a lot of Abominants, the majority of them were the lower levels. But these creatures mated and multiplied faster than normal animals.


    The killings would never cease and it was a race against quantity.


    And for twenty years of constant battling and war, hunting of hives, Terrabitha was lost. All citizens were evacuated and the soldiers were recalled back to Axe Central City. Half of the citizens did not survive the travel to the Bay and Axe Cities. They were ambushed by the Abominants.


    "What will you do with this anyway? It¡¯s been so long I have this in my inventory but nobody will buy it." Merchant said.


    Lance did not answer. His mind was racing with a hopeless dream. How can he umte such fortune? That scrapping could only provide him with a mere 300 units per month.


    He had no inheritance from his father, even though thetter was rich. But all of his currencies were frozen by the Government.


    ¡¯Never lose hope. Every situation has a solution even the solution is still vague momentarily. What¡¯s important is you are progressing towards your goal,¡¯ Lance remembered his father¡¯s teaching.


    "What is that?" Lance pointed at the caged Abominant, relinquishing hard the hopelessness that umted inside of him. The Abominant was still dormant, purring.


    It had different streaks of red and yellow color but was dominated by jet ck. It obscured its face, revealing only its fat back like it was a ball of fur.


    "It¡¯s a cat, kid," Merchant answered. "It¡¯s a wonder, these feckers. It¡¯s my fast-moving inventory nowadays. I gained a lot of money smuggling these to othermunities even to Axe Central."


    "What for?" Lance asked. He tasted hope once again.


    "My middlemen told me that their buyers used it to fend off abominated pests, like rats, even small insects. This cat right here eats all of them, including flying insects!"


    Middlemen were the delivery personnel, they were the best example of traders in this age. Middlemen¡¯s profession had grown into a prolific and lucrative business after the Cleanse and the fall of Bay and Terrabitha Cities. Because of the need for scraps and even food items rarity, smuggling was the cheapest and easiest choice for the survivingmoners.


    Middlemen were the front liners of smuggling.


    But Lance already knew their business concepts, those middlemen. But he was better than them. He was educated. He must think outside the box and establish better lucrative ways to improve the trading business.


    "Where did you get these cats?"


    Merchant rattled the cage and the Abominant was startled. It stood up from its slumber and showed its face. It had four eyes, fangs protruding from its lips. It had ears, not two but four. It was horrendous to look at. Its ws were sharp and long, curled on its palm.


    "We called these feckers, Zelkians!" Merchant said. "I got these from the Dead Forest, a few miles from here. What I have here is a breeder. Lazy ass abominations."


    "You said breeders?" Lance asked.


    "Yes. I need the male ones who are faster than these breeders. The middlemen would not buy these breeders. My collectors were mistaken. They looked the same, though, but they should know. They have known the business for years.


    Fecking scammers!" Merchant ranted. He shouted asionally.


    "If you have a breeder and a male Zelkian, why not mate them?" Lance asked.


    "You want to farm? It¡¯s actually a great idea, kid. But look at mah ce! I need a wider space for them nest and breed, don¡¯t they?" Merchant was sarcastic.


    Farming Abominants was unheard of. But he knew the concept and how the originating animals multiply. Abominants had gic inheritance from originating animals, however, everything was heightened and elerated. Even the growth of these creatures had exponential incrementspared to their original species.


    "How much for the breeder and the male Zelkian?"


    "80 units for the Male Zelkian. If you buy two of my male Zelkians, I will give this breeder for free."


    ¡¯Two males and one breeder? It is unnecessary.¡¯ Lance thought.


    "How about two Males and two breeders? Give the two breeders for free then, just to dispose of them from your inventory" Lance suggested.


    He knew that Merchant wanted some free space for his saleable items. His Breeders were non-moving, consuming space, and even contributed to an appalling smell.


    Merchant smiled and shook his hand.

 Chapter 16: Trade Work

    Jasper stored the information about the newly acquired Zelkian. Merchant sent some cloud information to Lance for his reference.


    They left Axiom Trench, although they failed to acquire the Energy elerator, however, with better opportunities that lie ahead. His father¡¯s teachings were not put to waste but they would definitely be put to a test.


    Trading was the easiest business amoner and even the market merchants could straightforwardly grasp. Lance knew the demand for Zelkians in Axe Central City. Its market segment was the higher-ups. Despite that Zelkians were a luxury, they were necessary to safeguard the most precious resource, food.


    He was sure that the middle-ss citizens that lived on ground level had Abominant pests that still resided in slums and would munch their way up to mid-range level pads to devour food.


    New information spread that these Abominated rats, especially the fully matured ones, could manducate their way through concrete walls.


    The walls only kept the harmful Abominants outside the City but what remained were the mutated rats and flies within. They don¡¯t harm human beings; however, their scouring instincts were heightened, making these mutated pests more annoying.


    They called the Abominanated rats, Rattus, derived from the generic scientific names of their original species.


    Rats, who retained their forms and origin, were the fortunate ones who had not been contaminated by radiation.


    Mysteriously, Rattus had no significant increments regarding body sizepared to their original species. Scientists had exined this phenomenon that these pests somehow had minute contamination during the nuclear war, they scoured underground beyond the reach of radiation. Theoretically, the soil reduced the efficacy of the radiation thus the rats underneath it were spared.


    Rattus¡¯ ws, their nose, and the size of their bellies were the only parts that had grown beyond normal proportions. As usual, Rattus devoured human food but with infinite hunger.


    Housing a Zelkian repelled the pests inside one¡¯s pad. The smell, unpleasant to the pests, chased them away.


    Petting Zelkians were unregted by the Corporation. However, the Academy and Research Centers used Zelkians asb experiments, appearing to be better than experimenting with Rattus.


    Another Market segment; citizens and scientists alike.


    Lance and the group left Axiom Trench with their hands full. Although unsessful with acquiring an Energy elerator, Lance purchased a farmable Zelkian that had wide market opportunity.


    _______________________________________________________________


    Abominant: Zelkian


    Category: Level 1


    Origin type: Cat


    Differentiation: Furry. Four eyes. Four ears. Foul smell


    Weapon: Fangs and ws.


    Habitat: Forests


    Characteristic: Fears light. Repel pests because of foul smell.


    Mate in 1 week and pregnant females will bear


    3 baby Zelkians in 2 weeks.


    Weakness: Weak after eating


    _________________________________________________________________


    Jasper scanned them and stored new information in his database.


    "Why the fecking Zelkians? Why not only trade these umon spare parts? The smell is killing me!" Joeined as they went back beneath the walls. His hands were pressed hard against his nostrils and hisints never ceased during the trip.


    Lance also managed to acquire umon UV emitting materials, Tyllrium, an enhancedmon and umon metalbination, forged into one. Tyllrium could emit twenty foldspared to normal UV bulbs as these materials were used for microorganism death in drinking water filtration and wastewater effluents.


    But Tyllrium could lose its efficacy over time, thus maintenance personnel change them from time to time.


    Waste management projects were Lance¡¯s next venture as scientists nowadays had neglected this profession.


    Probably the smell and the dirt alike. Waste management in Axe Central City yed a vital role in maintaining its upkeep. Lance knew the importance, hence, an opportunity to gain more currency.


    ___________________________________________________________


    Inventory log:


    1 Umon Double Barrel Handgun, Bulk slugs


    1 Umon Laser Field Hunting Knife


    1 Common 45mm Handgun


    2 Female Zelkians


    2 Male Zelkians


    4 Tyllrium tubes


    Obsidian shell tes


    Abominant Exoskeleton


    Currency: 680 units


    _________________________________________________________


    "That¡¯s the golden ticket right there, Joe. The smell," Damian teased as he helped carry the caged Abominants. There were four cages of two males and two females and Damian carried two cages nonchntly. While George and Joe almost dragged them to the ground.


    "We will farm these creatures, Joe. My father taught me that trading them is an easy business, contrarily, only with small profits. I bought male Zelkians for only 80 units and I can sell them to mid-ssers for about 120 units. Profit would be only 40 units."


    "It¡¯s a good trade, right!" George said.


    "If you only aim for a slow and low risk ie, trading them is a sound strategy. The bottleneck for this operational flow is the supply. Somehow, Merchants can only hunt them with only 30 male Zelkians a month. On the other hand, farming them will give me 12 Zelkians per month for the two females and two males for free."


    "How is it greater than trading, kiddo?" George asked, dumbfounded by a simple math.


    "Trading 30 Zelkians will give me a profit of 1200 units per month. And considering the transportation back and forth in Axiom Trench, we can¡¯t afford the risk. But by farming them in Rebel camps and producing 12 Zelkians per month, I can have a gross profit of over 1,400 units. In addition, if they will bear another female Zelkian, then that is a 30% increase in Zelkian production."


    They were silenced. Damian tapped the kid on his shoulder with a smile on his face.


    "Not only that, I will employ a farmer that would tend the upkeep. 100 units a month. Just feed them every day."


    "A 100 units per month? Just by watching these creatures! Wow, count me in!" Joe said, neglecting the smell factor of the job.


    "I thought you hated the smell?" Damian asked, he had a teasing smile that daubed his expression.


    100 units was a more than fair price for just watching animals. A factory worker, who consumes intense work and effort, earns 200 units per month.


    "I need also a trader of these Tyllrium. I bought theseponents for 40 units each. We can sell these to the Mechanics I know for about 80 units." Lance said. George dly volunteered.


    "And how much is my cut for trading?" George asked.


    "15 units each, George," Lance replied.


    "Get outta here!" George eximed. "For just these 4 units Tyllrium, I will gain 60 units! No wonder Scrappers have a lot of saved units than factory workers."


    "That¡¯s where you are wrong, George," Lance dismissed. "Not all scrappers gained a lot of units just for trading scrapponents. Only those scrappers knew the exact trade price. Additionally, the demand and the difficulty of supply. Tyllrium is hard to find, only maybe in Axiom Trench. There¡¯s a factory that manufactures Tyllrium but could not provide the overall demand of the city."


    "Really? That is strange. How¡¯s that possible?" George asked.


    "It¡¯s because forging metals to make Tyllrium will consume a lot of time. During the era of the Lost Engineers, these processes were streamlined and the efficiency was high. Sufficient enough to supply the City¡¯s demand. Even supplying other surviving cities."


    "What the factories are doing now is not automated, veryborious way of fabricating things. Somehow the factory guys were not able to gain the knowledge of semi-automated technologies in forging. The Lost Engineers kept this information beyond the reach of the Scientists."


    "How much is the need for Tyllrium?" George asked, his face stered with utter curiosity.


    "A 100 Tyllriums maybe, monthly. For Water Filtration machines and wastewater facilities."


    "Wait a minute! Why do wastewater facilities need Tyllrium for filtration?"


    "You don¡¯t know? I thought not everyone knew this. Because water is a scant resource, these wastewater disposal facilities managed to recycle water."


    "What? We are drinking urine!" Three of hisrades stopped sauntering inside the tunnels and turned to him with a great question of morality. Damian dropped the cages, the Zelkians jerked and furiously shrieked.


    "Yes! We are drinking urine but through a sophisticated filtration system that eliminated 100% of toxins mixed with water. The toxins were then disposed outside the city, to God knows where."


    George gagged to his utter disgust. He spat a lot of saliva.


    "Hawk Tua!" Joe cursed, echoing against the tunnel walls. Expectedly, Damian was nonchnt still.


    Damian was a soldier, like Handsome. Deployed to Abominant-conquered zones would need excellent survival skills. They knew how to conserve food and maybe drank their urine after they filtered it with their own mobile filtration devices for weeks of deployment beyond the grasp of surviving cities.


    "Ok ok. Got you! Stop talking, kid. I hate it when you dump unnecessary information." George expelled thest of his saliva in his mouth. "How do you know all these things kid?"


    "I knew a Mechanic Tier 3," Lance said as they started to press on inside the tunnels. "He managed the Wastewater facility of Eastern Sector. He is our market for Tyllrium. I can give the samples to him. If approved, we can deliver truck loads."


    "How?" George asked again.


    "I was taught that you will experience the same stress and spend effort handling a small or a big problem. So let¡¯s scale this Tyllrium trading business to arger scope. We can rent the rebel¡¯s truck for a currency, Damian here will be paid his Specialist fee of 500 units per trip to Axiom Trench and bulk buy all Tyllrium that would fill the truck¡¯s capacity."


    "I imagine about 60 Tyllrium lengths would fill the truck. That would be 2400 units of Tyllrium. It would make the Axiom Merchants happy." Lance continued.


    "How do we get that great of an investment?" Joe asked this time, curious about how the new venture would materialize.


    "This is where youe in, Joe. We will produce Zelkians first and milk the proceeds for this shipment."


    They nodded in agreement with how their newfound ventures would work. They did the math, they knew the process, and it was easy to grasp. Damian tapped Lance¡¯s shoulder a couple of times. Apparently, it was Damian¡¯s way of appreciation.


    "Before everything else. I will go ind, into the center of the City. I will visit Grebert, my Mech Tier 3 friend." Lance said.

 Chapter 17: Inland

    Amoner would instantly know the distinction of sectors of Axe Central city if it¡¯s within the boundaries of the low-lifers, or in the Mid-ssers or high-ssers, Cat feckers as some would say, categories of citizens. The low-lifer sectors had only a few sr street lights equally spaced on roads and highways.


    However, the reach of these streetlights never actually provided sufficient illumination. One would still rely on body-embedded or clothed-installed shlights walking these streets.


    Every corner was dark, as if to be construed always as dangerous. The crime rate was high, as expectedly. But the majority were petty crimes ¨C individual robbery, murder, rape, and abductions.


    Which made the streets more dangerous.


    On the other hand, the ind sectors also had crimes too, lots of them. However, major crimes had filled the police force database instead of petty crimes - moneyundering, digital hacking, jewel, and food heists in warehouses, organized crimes by syndicates, etc.


    Which made the streets a lot safer.


    Lance felt out of harm¡¯s way as he sat on a crowded bullet train. Rumors floated that the bullet trains felt like riding airnes. Unfortunately, airnes were a lost technology not because the current brains of the Corporation did not grasp the designs and the concepts of flying.


    It¡¯s just that it was not practical to fly against the worst atmospheric conditions - zero visibility, heaving dust particles, and a lot of signal interference.


    Not to mention the Abominated birds.


    The bullet train felt like it was floating in mid-air. Zero friction against the tracks. It was fast. He nced upon the windows and all he saw were a blur of multi-colored lights inside the tunnels, almost iprehensible. But as they reached beyond the tunnels, as the track flitted in the air overhead the highways and between the towering structures, he saw the vastness of the City.


    He was never used to the picturesque beauty of the Science-filled technology that runs the city. It was always changing. The dominant city lights were changed depending on the day of the week.


    He knew Monday was a Blue day. It depicted a bluish mood after a weekend. Lance smiled at the thought. He only made up the analogy for him to easily memorize the color assignments.


    The vast digital advertisements were also changed, providing different hues of colors that reached various city blocks depending on what was shown.


    The dark skies, beyond the floating MAFs, held crimson ochre reflections from the explosions of strobe lights below.


    It was disco every time, especially when the sun sets and the dim daylight became dark.


    ¡¯A total waste of energy,¡¯ Lance thought.


    Beyond the sprawling unkempt city, beyond the city lights diminished to the Commoner¡¯s sectors, the walls were majestic to look at. Upon ncing at them, it felt like home for Lance. His father¡¯s greatness emanated from the walls.


    That¡¯s why people in the religion of Science venerated the walls like descendants of the gods.


    Unfortunately, Erik¡¯s name was forgotten by the majority of the citizens. The media and the preachers told the people of Axe that the designs were amended countless times just to arrive at a harmonious perpetual exchange of energies between the walls, and the windmills that turned the turbines.


    Hence, diminishing his father¡¯s name as the actual project head for the walls¡¯ construction and intricate schematic design. Instead, the media gave credit to the Electronic Tier Scientists, a group of them, who falsely made possible for the walls¡¯ operation.


    The windmills¡¯ des, seemed to be a kilometer each, turned harmoniously harnessing the strong winds above the tips of the tallest towers. The MAFs contributed to the air cirction in the sky¡¯s atmosphere that greatly factored the increased wind eleration towards the windmills.


    The windmills powered the City. Hence, the wall pumps blood to the heart (Capital) and all the organs (secondary sectors) that support life. Without the walls, there was no life.


    "Attention. Approaching Scorchgate sector in a few seconds," A female voice AI loomed inside the train.


    In a few more minutes, Lance would disembark at the Wraithport sector where Grebert works. He disregarded the onlookers of some hostile-looking, back-stabbing-typemuters that sat in front of him.


    Their fashion scents differ in vast and obvious proportions from the Commoners. Lance only wore jeans and a shirt underneath his pocketed jacket. He had his luminous and elongated backpack where he brought his Tyllrium.


    The Inders almost had no pockets on their clothes. The garments they used for their shirts and pants were smooth-like silk, luminous in the dark, and others had neon lights along their seams.


    They wore shades, almost all of them. A trend that Lance was not happy to indulge in. Lance never liked to acquire luxury trends of the Inders as it would cost him significant currency. It was not a necessity.


    But having these essories, the holographic watches, the oversized headphones, and the multi-lighted knapsacks, would mask a Commoner¡¯s identity and superficially be one of the Inders.


    "We have arrived, Wraithport Sector Terminal 3," The AI announced once again. It gave Lance a deep and satisfying sigh.


    Lance could feel the coolness of tiled floors as he sauntered to the sufficiently spaced walkways after a few minutes of train travel. Public transport was never a nuisance in the Ind sectors. The Governor made sure of that.


    Efficient system transportations were designed and built by the Electronic Tiers and all projects would course through Levi Menks¡¯ review.


    Wraithport Terminal was attached to a 30-story Transportation Terminal Tower and beyond the transparent ss walls; one can view half of the City. A few sectors from Wraithport, after Scorchgate, were the Steamhaven District Sector, a center where all manufacturing nts and factories were located.


    The smoke of vague pollution filled the overview expanse of the sector discernible to the viewers at the transparent ss deck.


    On the East side, opposite Steamhaven, a few sectors from Wraithport, one could see the Capital Sector, Bloomforge Enve. It was where the highest echelon of citizens were housed, including Levi Menks.


    Lance could see below the floating train track, just as he passed by recently, were a series of sinuous intertwined highways and other train tracks that seemed to be chaotic wires with their junction boxes and the structures attached to them were the electronicponents.


    Axe Central City was like a massive Electronic schematic board or an Integrated Circuit board that was kept alive by blood instead of electric current. A gore analogy as Lance would think about, equivocal to what really the City was operating were darker agendas fueling the bottomless pockets of politicians and making the rich richer schemes.


    "Go back to Steeltrash, youmoner!" Ady in high heels and a gleaming dress mocked him as she passed by Lance while he was queuing for the elevators.


    Steelpoint District where Lance came from was changed by the mid-ssers to Steeltrash. An Eastern part of neighboring Commoners¡¯ sectors. A product of a boorish-filledmunity.


    "What¡¯s that smell? Rats?" Another passerby teased with her friends. They chuckled as they exchanged verbal attacks towards Lance.


    Expectedly, the Inders especially the Bloomforgers were boorish and racist.


    Lance pressed the elevator button again. It was busy, on the 30th level, and the center for transportation, unfortunately for him that elevators would take a minute to arrive on the desired floors.


    In the past, he received a lot of ill-mannered verbal attacks from the Inders every time he set foot in the ind sectors and he was used to them.


    ¡¯They don¡¯t know that they are living a lie. I am here to expose the truth,¡¯ Lance thought somehow encouraging himself that all of them were just mere nuisance from arge plot in progress.


    The elevator hummed smoothly as it slid open the door. He went in and a couple of the Inders too, two of them. Despite the disgusted stares upon the kid, fortunately, the inders did not utter any verbal bullying unto him.


    "Have you heard the murders in Blooms?" The female inder said to herpanion as they were inside the elevator.


    "Rebel rats, news said," the other one replied.


    "Why not poison all of them in Steeltrash? Let¡¯s see if rebels will still have a faction after," the first oneughed and traded a judgemental stare towards Lance.


    "Who died, by the way?" the second one asked.


    "It was the vice-gov," the first answered in a whisper.


    "A bad deal gone wrong, says the headlines,"


    "Vice-gov, dealing with rebels? Well, that¡¯s expected," sheughed harder this time.


    "Here, I¡¯ll let you have the article," The first female touched with her palm the second female¡¯s wrist. Holographic patterns emerged around the joined arms right after.


    "Transferred," the first female said after a few seconds.


    Vice Governor Valentyne was actually the preacher of truth. He was the lone politician who turned himself as the rebels do about how the City was managed. He led a few sectoral projects that were sound and fair and would benefit not only the mid and high-ssers but also the low-lifers.


    Rumors flitted that Vice Gov Valentyne dealt with the Rebels to expose the sinister agenda of the Corporation. Lance knew the rumors were true.


    But the media never supported Valentyne¡¯s drive. They attacked him instead with false news.


    Expectedly but vaguely, the Corporation controlled the media and the news.


    Whatever Lance¡¯s ns may be, he should tread carefully. One wrong move would scatter news against him like wildfire and in one instant; all of the citizens would rise against him.

 Chapter 18: Unitech

    Every corner of the ind sectors had robotic vending machines that stored vast categories of variousmodities and luxuries. Even small-scale jewelry shops tend to gain traction in this trending venture.


    Lance knew the ce. He would tread inside the Ind sectors, from Wraithport to Scorchgate and even in the northern parts of the City, adjacent to Bloomforge. Most frequently at Steamhaven District to indulge in tedious trading ofmon to umon levelponents.


    He knew the markets, he knew the demand, and most importantly, he knew the buyers.


    After the Tower Terminal 3, Lance took the tram, a bus-like train that passed along Mainstreet and towards the heart of Wraithport. Lance could smell the aroma that weaved through the openings of the Tram.


    ¡¯Even the foods here are luxurious,¡¯ Lance thought as he saw a series of pastry and bakeshops lined up along the boulevard.


    ¡¯Someday, I will control factories,¡¯ Lance thought upon ncing at an oversized logo of a cup and a toque, artisticallybined in a circle andced with neon lights on its edge. It was posted on the topmost part of a rectangr establishment wide enough to cover the whole city block.


    He stopped at Junction Highway 15 as the Tram would travel deeper at the center of the Sector while he was headed to its outskirts.


    Wraithport housed thergest Waste Disposal department amodating three Eastern Sectors. A third of Wraithport had an aromatic smell of middle-end bakeshops and pastries but a quarter of the sector, facing near the Eastern wall heaved an appalling smell.


    A smell that would sting your forehead as a metallic and rough scent would invade one¡¯s nostrils. Lance was used to the smell, even in Steelpoint, the scent was sharper than in the Waste Management Facilities.


    The Waste Water Management Department (WWMD) of Wraithport where Grebert was the nt supervisor was located in one of its facilities that covered six hectares of the sector.


    Fortunately, Grebert was also responsible for the materials procurement and maintenance as the Mechanic Tier 3. Lance was lucky to have known Grebert for he was one of his major scrap buyers, not by Tyllrium but by rust-grade metal sheets for fabrications and pipe repairs.


    The bakeries and other food manufacturing establishments were strategic to locate their facilities near the WWMD so as to easily dispose of their food and water wastes.


    Wraithport city blocks near the WWMD had fewer citizens present on the streets. Mostly, citizens on this side of the sector did not give much attention tomoners like Lance.


    Lance found arge digital advertisement that showed the new trendy shades that almost every inder had their faces on. The shades¡¯ frame wasrge enough to cover not only the eyes but reaching half of the forehead and to the tip of the nose and embracing both ears.


    They were multi-colored and the users were very fond of having them. Some citizens used colors based on the day of the week that wouldplement the dominant neon colors used in ind cities.


    "m your world! Unitech, a glimpse of the future." The Digital Ad screen announced after a graphic and artistically filmed advertisement.


    Below the digital ad was a vending machine that stored the advertised trendy shades. Lance was curious; he stopped by the Vending machine to check on the disyed merchandise inside a metallic box as tall as his, with a transparent-looking ss that showed the merchandise inside, partnered with the same digital ad screen broadcasted above them.


    They were colorful, indeed, and they came in different forms.


    The price was 100 units each. The price was revolting.


    "Remember master, you have less than 680 units. You spent some of it on transportation," Jasper suggested.


    "Don¡¯t worry Jasper. We are here on business. We will go home with more money in our pockets," Lance said.


    ¡¯The price was absurd. This only portrays the obviousrge gap between the low-lifers and mid-ssers,¡¯ Lance clenched his fist as he envisioned the Government¡¯s cruelty, cursing in his mind as if facing the politicians.


    Neglecting the hate, his emotions transitioned to what was in front of him. Nevertheless, he liked to explore. He must know the trend as one would always be informed of the new market demands, such as his profession would entail opportunities for sudden market variations.


    "Units received, thank you, Lance Berkley!" An AI voice appeared from the vending machine as he transferred them online.


    "570 units remaining, Master," Jasper reminded.


    ¡¯Still, I can buy 2 months of groceries,¡¯ Lance thought. But it was way below his emergency fund. Supposedly his emergency fund would amount to 6 months¡¯ worth of groceries, amounting to 1,200 units.


    But he only had below 600 units.


    Banking on his farm and Tyllrium trading business, he would double his money within the month. Granting that there were no mishaps during operations, and anticipating that in every business, there were no perfect operations ever before.


    The hatch opened and a robotic arm emerged from it. The metallic fingers unsped and revealed a sophisticated box that had an embossed logo of Unitech.


    Lance knew that Menks controlled Unitech. He knew that this merchandise had margins of around 50 to 60% of its price. Menks was bing richer for every factory he oversaw as thew dictates ¨C an adviser would have consultation royalties for every sold merchandise.


    Lance took the box from the robotic arm, and the arm retracted smoothly back to the hatch. He opened the box and music used in the digital ads appeared. It continued its music until he took out the shades from its casing.


    He wore it. It wasfortable and a cold mist experienced his face. Right after, the shades spoke with a series of options appeared in front of his field of vision.


    "Scanning user," the female voice said.


    "Cancel scan," Lance said. "Set user to visitor mode."


    "Wee to Unitech - Shades of the Future," The internal voice said.


    "Features?" Lance asked.


    "Disying features. Unitech Shades will give you ess to holographic advertisements and can conduct real-time transactions. Unitech Shades are also used in window shopping in redited malls. Just scan the item and pay online, and the item will be delivered to you. Would you like to know more?" The internal voice responded.


    "That¡¯s fine by now. Activate features," Lance said as a prompt of the shades¡¯ feature appeared in front of his view.


    "Initializing..."


    Then after a few seconds, everything blew up to his face like a surprise. As if another meta world had appear before his very eyes. Lance could ess every holographic advertisement that could not be seen by the naked eye. The skies were filled with holographic advertisements but would disappear if the shades left his eyes.


    The neon-lighted environment was immensely magnified to a level of one¡¯s annoyance or delight. Lance was enchanted with what had transpired. Oldies for sure would have utter annoyance.


    ¡¯Good way for marketing,¡¯ Lance thought about his farmed Zelkians.


    There are about 30 million citizens that live inside Axe Central City and about 15 million of them aremoners, 3 million are considered in between the fine line ofmoners and mid-ssers. 10 million were mid-ssers and 2 million were considered high-ssers.


    He estimated about half of the mid-ssers usually in the younger generations had the Unitech shades in their inventory. And he knew that most of the mid-ssers were now buying Zelkians in the ck market.


    Lance had gooseflesh upon the thought of injecting his Zelkian farm production in the advertisement section covered by the Unitech shades ¨C in the ck market category of course.


    Luckily, ck market merchandise was not sanctioned by the Corporation and Governing Laws Department (GLD), especially the acquisition of Zelkians. Lance knew that even the upper echelons, or maybe the Politicians had Zelkian pets inside their mansions to safeguard themselves from Rattus harborage.


    After a few blocks of walking and enjoying the holographic advertisements made essible for him because of the shades, he finally arrived at a square concrete facade that had a neon-lightedbel on top of the front metallic door - WWMD Facility 2.


    "Like to speak to Grebert, please Mister," Lance politely said to the security guard, also a Commoner. A lot ofmoners who were employed in the ind sectors held the lowest ranks up to a level lower than supervisors. Commoners were never allowed to handle mid-management jobs as such positions were prioritized for the mid-ssers.


    "What for, Berkley?" The guard asked, sitting idly on a chair beside the metallic door. He knew Lance due to thetter¡¯s previous transactions with Grebert, despite, the guard had obvious unkindness.


    "I brought Tyllrium samples for him. I heard he had a lot of changin¡¯ to do," Lance responded.


    "A sec," The guard pressed the digital inte on his arm¡¯s length, "For Sup¡¯ here. Berkley. Said he has Tyllrium."


    The inte shrieked a female voice as it responded. "Let him in."


    "Go on, kid," The guard said after he inspected Lance¡¯s bag. The guard pulled out the Tyllrium and he was familiar with theponent.


    ¡¯" Samples," Lance said.

 Chapter 19: Tyllrium

    "Nice shades, buddy!" Grebert praised.


    Lance sat on a metallic chair behind a tempered circr top ss table of Grebert¡¯s office. The scent inside the facility where the waste water was exposed in the confines of metallic and concrete walls, was appalling that one could die of a chronic disease.


    The WWMD personnel had their gas masks on, industrial-grade, as they operated aerobic and anaerobic tanks for water pollutant digestion stages.


    But the offices, with stark and sophisticated interior design, immensely contradicted what was outside. Some of the office staff, especially the section supervisors were mid-ssers. It was evident in the white-d uniforms and jewelry they wore.


    Grebert, mid-thirties, with cheeky features, and a mesomorphic body type, trained his fingertips towards the samples thaty on top of his top ss office table.


    "Fine grade, the smoothness of the material and the consistency of its color says its a month or so usage life," Lance said.


    "You know your materials, kiddo!" Grebert said. "Where did you get these? You don¡¯t have ess to the Tier 2 scrap yard yet, aren¡¯t you?"


    "Not yet, Mister," Lance replied. "I acquired this from a friend who had ess to the source. And the source was beyond the grasp ofmon scrappers."


    "Really? Can you acquire more?" Grebert asked. He typed his fingers against the ss top ss of his table.


    "Your consumption?"


    "ording to my records," Grebert inspected the holographic dashboard that appeared on the ss surface of his table. "I have to rece Tyllrium strands, a total of 30 pieces. Are you good for it?"


    "I am just curious, why aren¡¯t you buying at MFs in Steam?" Lance referred to the Metal Factories in Steamhaven District.


    "Budget, those top execs!" Grebert cursed. "These Tyllriums cost me much more if I buy from the MFs. 20% of my consumption was traded from Scrappers Tier 2. But¡¯s not enough. Scums, I say!"


    Lance was a scrapper Tier 1 and was only serving scrap metals for Grebert. Scrappers Tier 2 had ess to a Tier 2 scrap yard where umon-level materials were dumped for disassembly.


    "How much are the Scrappers charging you for one piece?" Lance asked.


    Grebert halted his reply for a few seconds of awkward stares. Lance knew that Grebert would tell him a fake price for the negotiating party would decrease his trade price in mind. Judging from the samples, Lance could market them for 80 units each.


    "65 units,d. It¡¯s a high price for a trade," Grebert snorted. "In MFs, I am buying at 160 a piece."


    "C¡¯mon, Mister Grebert," Lance responded. He anticipated this kind of negotiation but he knew that the price was too low. "These are fine grade umon levels. You know you can¡¯t price that low. Besides, these Tyllrium are way better than the Tier 2¡¯s are offering you."


    "How would you know?"


    "The Tier 2 scrap yard only had these scrapped Tyllrium because of its factory defect. A rejection manufacturing rate of 10% especially since these are manufactured manually, and human error factor, I would say that these 10% rejections will fall in the scrap yards of Tier 2 to 4."


    It was only his assumption. But he knew that this hypothesis was beyond Grebert¡¯s knowledge. Grebert only handled WWMDs for all his career and never had a mentor for operating Factories as Lance had.


    His father once had a taste of controlling a factory in Bay City and had mentored him about the manufacturing operations.


    "What makes your Tyllrium better than theirs?" Grebert was daubed with an astonished expression.


    "I know that the rejected Tylls have only 50% expected shelf life, but what I am offering you is better than these rejections. See the smoothness and the consistency of metal forging, there are no noticeable dents."


    "How do you know all this, kid?" Grebert surrendered andid his back against his office chair. "You are just a teenager for Science¡¯s sake!"


    Lance only smiled at that.


    "You know me, Mister Grebert," Lance responded. "I only deal with quality materials and my pricing is based solely on that. I trade goods that can satisfy the customers. And I would say to you that I am good for your 30 pieces recement for a short period."


    "So, how much are you charging this kind of Tylls?"


    "90 units," Lance negotiated at a price more than he anticipated and tested Grebert¡¯s negotiation skills.


    "Woah. That¡¯s a bit high, kiddo!" Grebert smiled and shook his head.


    "Look at the samples closely, Mister," Lance suggested. "It would give more than 50% of expected life. I would say around close to 80% judging by the quality and the usage life. This deal will give you better than the scrappers are offering you."


    "Why is that?"


    "Do the math," Lance had calcted theparison in his head. "For a simplerparison, their 5 Tylls is equivalent to my 3 Tylls based on life expectancy. 5 Tylls would cost yah 330 units while my 3 Tylls would only cost yah 270 units. That¡¯s way below your current consumption, Mister."


    "What the? You can even do that mathematicalparison? Who are you, kiddo? Where do youe from? And why are you only at Scrapper Tier 1 with that kind of knowledge."


    "Well, you wait for my promotions, Mister Grebert. I am on my way to Tier 2."


    Grebert smiled. He squinted at the dashboards that reflected on his ss table. His fingers were tapping against the tempered ss surface.


    "75 units each." Grebert negotiated.


    "90 units," Lance responded, with firm tonality.


    "80 units," Grebertughed.


    "90 units and final," Lance retorted. His body turned towards the opposite side as if heading to the exit to retract the negotiation.


    "OK, it¡¯s a done deal. Give me my 30 pieces for two months," Grebert extended his hand for a handshake. Handshaking these days still was gesture used for a gentleman¡¯s agreement for both parties.


    "Deal!" Lance shook Greberts hand hard.


    He knew that Grebert would take the 90 units per piece deal. Grebert disclosed a trade secret that Lance knew how to leverage from it. Grebert was ordering from the MFs for 160 units a piece and with his budget constraint and dy in fulfilling production targets, Lance assessed that he had the upper hand.


    "To clean water!" Lance teased.


    Lance held one secret of Science. The WWMDs across Axe Central City were recycling wastewater to its potability state. Tyllriums were used as UV-emitting materials forged by different umon metals to cleanse water from microbial contaminations.


    Removing metallic contaminants was one way of cleaning water but with equal importance, cleansing it with microbes would satisfy the consumers, Commoners, and higher status alike, and greatly contribute to its palpability.


    Lance knew the significance of the deal. Top Executives of these private corporations had budget constraints due to a worse economy, short-changing their services to the masses.


    With 40% dirty water due to theck of Tyllrium filtration, there was also a 40% shortage of water supply to the citizens. If this predicament persists, citizens will rage to a state of emergency because of theck of potable water.


    And who would take the fall?


    Grebert of WWMD Facility 2.


    "What else do you need, Mister Grebert?" Lance fished upon the need. He had leverage for the supply of umon, rare, and masterwork-level materials and electronicponents.


    "Do you have salt, kid?" Grebert asked after releasing a great sigh.

 Chapter 20: Zelkian Farm

    "In a negotiation, the best move is to think of an incentive that the other party hasn¡¯t even thought of."


    Erik Berkley¡¯s teachings to his son Lance


    ***


    Grebert¡¯s transaction was a sess. Lance went home with 360 units more for Tyllrium samples, with a total amount of 920 units including his cost of transportation.


    Grebert agreed to provide a down payment of 30% for the truckload Tyllrium of 30 units which Grebert again transferred 810 units. It was Lance¡¯s terms that to forego the agreed truckload of merchandise, the buyer Grebert, should provide a down payment as his initial operational cost and in addition, a guaranteed production order for both parties.


    Therefore, he had a whopping 1,730 units as of this moment.


    Lance signed some electronic documents after Grebert mentioned some threatening words.


    "Don¡¯t F this up, kiddo. Or Police will be knocking on your doors soon," Grebert seriously said. But because of their previous, numerous, and sessful transactions, Lance only smiled.


    Crimes for scrappers were dealt with by authorities very seriously. Not only one would have the pleasure of prison for months, but one would also be stripped of the rank. Lance in his case would be stripped of his scrap trading license.


    Probably would opt to be employed in factories and a cycle of endless survival due to currency constraint would be until his deathbed.


    "Expect 30 to 60 days and all of your requirements will be fulfilled," Lance promised and they shook hands once again. He established a good rapport with Grebert, however, such a rtionship was not considerably called friends in good faith. It was purely a professional business rtionship.


    Nothing was more fulfilling than having smooth negotiations and screaming profits. Unexpectedly, he managed to increase his anticipated price to 10 units per piece of Tyllrium which would almost entirely cover his operating expense for the delivery man, George.


    For 30 pieces of Tyllrium in one truck, George would have profits of 450 units. But a full truckload was estimated to amodate 40 pieces and would garner George an astounding 600 units per trip.


    Damian as driver would charge 500 units per trip, which would give his total operating expense of 1100 units. George would charge 50 units for the truck and another 100 units for Joe as his helper and extra rifle men if ever they encountered an Abominant along the way to Axiom Trench.


    Joe would be happy to earn another 100 units for a particr transaction per month. That would provide George with a profit of 450 units per transaction, 500 units for Damian, and 100 units for Joe.


    Lance¡¯s material cost for one Tyllrium would be 40 units each supplied in Axiom Trench. And with his current purchase order, he would charge 90 units per piece, with a margin of 50 units each.


    For a truckload, Lance would earn as much as 2000 units, and deducted from 1100 operating costs, he would have profits of 900 units.


    It was a good deal and it would not take so much of his time to acquire supply.


    The excess supply of Tylls could be marketed to other WWMD stations that sprang in Western, Southern, and Northern sectors. Only a matter of time would dictate that Grebert would share his transaction with Lance of a newfound good quality Tyllrium.


    ***


    A few days passed.


    Back at the rebel¡¯s camp, underneath the walls and within the precincts of a vast maintenance deck, Lance visited Joe who had constructed a fence for the Zelkian¡¯s farming.


    It was properly made as Lance had instructed. The cage consisted ofmon-grade scrap metals from the Tier 1 yards and welded firmly to form a rectangr enclosure to separate the two pairs of Zelkians.


    "The two females are now clearly pregnant," Joe said excitedly. His high-pitched voice emerged once again.


    "How about their food? Did you acquire some here?" Lance asked. Moreover, farming Zelkians needed food to reproduce and survive. Luckily, underneath the walls in the moist and dark environments of the tunnels, rats and Rattus harbored the ce.


    Joe sessfully contracted a few of the rebel members to ce mechanical rat trap cages at the far corners of the tunnels in strategic ces where rats had been harbored.


    Rat provisions as food for Zelkians were exchanged with currency upfront for every harvest and then again would spark a little motivation among the members of the Rebels.


    Rumors floated that Lance had his little farm and trading of Tylls going, employing rebel members for operational management. They were happy with thepromises and Jefferson, too, was proud.


    As he said to Lance so frequently, but with different statements.


    "One of a kind, kid!"


    "Zelkian farming. Despite the smell, it¡¯s a good way to fend off the pests here down below."


    "Genius. Like your father." Or something like,


    "The proceeds of collecting rats is a great help for the cause."


    "Two of the members were enthusiastic about it. They were surprised that catching rats could gain units." Joe replied to Lance as he showed thetter the trapped rats in cages piled at the side of the Zelkian farm.


    "How much are they asking?" Lance asked.


    "2 units per rat, just as you offered, boss," Joe answered. "They are damn happy about it." Joe changed his address to the kid. "The other day, they harvested 6 rats. That costs us 12 units."


    12 units quantified to a day of sumptuous meals equivalent for one person.


    "Ok, Joe. That¡¯s good to hear." Lance tapped Joe¡¯s shoulder. "Remember we don¡¯t like to overstock rats as we don¡¯t need excess. Unless we will have another female Zelkian in our hands. We just need 100 rats per month to house 12 Zelkians and two couples."


    "Well," Lance continued, "I am pretty sure that of theing few weeks, they will bear another female Zelkian. It would take another month for it to fully mature and mate to multiply. That¡¯s when we increase our demand for rat supply."


    "They have been asking me if you have other jobs for them. Thedies here wanted their sons to support the cause by earning sidelines. You know, the under-aged." Joe spoke softly as he sauntered close to Lance.


    "Salt. I am looking for a supplier to trade in WWMDs," Lance replied.


    "Why Salt, boss?"


    "Our digital water softeners in WWMDs only limit their capacity of processing kilotons of effluent water from the Cities. We could not manufacturerge-scale digital softeners due to the rarity of materials for assembly. Even MFs could not fabricate them using traditional methods. So these departments opted the use of Salt as an ingredient for softening hard water."


    "Ahh," Joe appeared to have not grasped what Lance had exined.


    "Remember what I told you before," Lance continued his exnation. "These WWMDs are recycling wastewater to potable water for the citizens to consume. Filtered and clean water, if it¡¯s not softened, the consumers would taste a sharp tingling feeling in your mouth like you are drinking a rusty fluid."


    Salt was the most obsolete way of eliminating the hardness of water. The digital softeners used microfibers installed in winding chambers. The winding design allowed water to pass throughrge softening tubes in a dyed manner, inescapably to be softened over time.


    The microfibers were made of an umon material that when water passed through, it would undergo a process after the equalizing chamber.


    It had to do with the molecr level of processing that separated thebined micro metals from water molecules and filtered them out before water reached another chamber of filtration.


    "Got it, boss!" Joe eximed. "So salt?"


    "Yes, salt. Spread the word, Joe. How can I acquire Salt? I believe with the current technology of its manufacturing, the raw materials were mined somewhere in the Northern Mountains. That¡¯s why its supply is scarce."


    "Yeah. I heard the stories. Abominants sometimes attack the caravan."


    "Yes. But the North Mountain is not only the ce to mine salt. Do you know where is the nearest mining encampment?"


    "I have a feeling that I know the answer," Joe smiled as if anticipating Lance¡¯s answer.


    "Where do you think?"


    "Trench hill," Joe responded.


    "You almost got it. But Trench Hill had no salt deposits. In Broadridge mountain, 10 miles after Axiom Trench. But first, let¡¯s acquire the Tylls in Axiom. Call the crew. Let¡¯s have a meeting."

 Chapter 21: Black Marketing

    Lance knew about the type of rockpositions that filled the Mountain Broadridge. It was 20 miles further from Axiom Trench but it was an adjacent mountain of a previously surviving city, Bay City. From the boundaries of Broadridge, sprang the second most progressive surviving city of Oroz Continent.


    It was Lance and his family¡¯s ancestral city.


    Farming mountain rock salts as raw material for salt filtration was beyond the grasp of possibility for now. Knowing about Axiom Trench, Broadridge Mountain could habituate an Abominant hive.


    But because of its altitude beyond the mid-rangends, daylight was more discernable even though it¡¯s more arid. Therefore, Abominants might cower below the mountain peaks of Broadridge and habituate themselves to the nearest desirable nesting ground ¨C Bay City.


    Based on instincts, Abominants wanted to scour behind the shadows of tall structures, wide establishments, and building-filled ces as they provided better shade from daylight.


    Bay City was a perfect ce to nestle a hive.


    Unfortunately, reviving Bay City was way beyond easy.


    Hence, his conquest for Salt supply would be halted for now.


    ¡¯I will need more firepower to mine salts, therefore, more currency,¡¯ Lance thought.


    Lance met with the usual crew for their preparation to acquire Tylls. The truck was readily avable and the Rebel caretaker was more than happy to oblige to lease out his truck for 50 units. That¡¯s 50 units, a quarter of groceries for one person, and he could earn in one day was probably the best moment of his life.


    Such currency surmounted a factory worker¡¯s sry for a week.


    An apparent smile creased on old Nestor¡¯s face, the caretaker, who also maintained all Rebel vehicles. He maintained them not because he was the best mechanic, he was just worst at everything, and being a grease monkey suited him.


    The group settled on the far side where the guffaws of the rebel groups failed to reach them. Nestor waved at him from the far side corner with currency stered on his expression.


    Joe¡¯s exhration apparently brightened up the mood. A couple of fist bumps were exchanged as they settled for a huddle.


    Lance, among the youngest of a foolishly formed crew, had no experience handling groups. Therefore, silence overcame him. He stared at Joe, who was not also a crowd organizer and then shifted his gaze upon Damian.


    Damian stared back at him, seemingly expecting Lance to lead the conversation. Then he veered his stare at his side, to George, who had seriousness stered on his expression.


    "Hmm," George started to collect his thoughts, as it seemed. The crowd waited for him to speak, almost awkwardly that ice formations started to build up in front of them.


    "What about the currency to buy the Tylls?" George asked, finally breaking the ice. His way of inquisition improved as he embraced fully the function of a trader. "We will need 1600 units for 40 pieces of Tylls."


    "Give me 1 to 2 weeks and I¡¯ll have the money." Lance had the money, 1730 units to be exact. Spending 1600 units would scream for utter stupidity with only 130 units left in his ount. Not good for business and the risk of failing the Tyllrium trading was high.


    Hence, acquiring more currency was sound. Timing was everything with the funds he had. For a regrmoner, amassing over 1000 units was like providing a family of 4 for a month¡¯s grocery.


    But for an individual was a hardly-ever happenstance formoners. Mid-ssers had an average of 3000 units above each individual, providing more than enough to feed themselves for a year. Excess of it was spent on luxuries, like the Unitech Shades.


    "What is your n, kid?" Damian asked.


    "Joe, do the honors," Lance pointed at his farmer.


    "Yes, boss! We can have the money in 1 week." Joe announced to the group. "The Zelkian will bear children a few days from now and its Zelklings will grow to a small ball size after a week. They will be marketable by then."


    "Zelklings?" Damian asked.


    "The baby Zelkians," Joe retorted. "What else would you call them?"


    Damian was dumbfounded by the question, with his jaw half closed.


    "Ok. Ok. Whatever," Damianughed. "Zelklings." He uttered again for him to remember.


    "How much are we talking here?" George once again asked important business questions.


    "Joe?" Lance asked his mentee.


    "6 Zelklings. If the boss said that we can sell them at 120 each then we will have 720 units for next week." Joe snappily answered.


    "Is it enough?" George asked.


    "Yes, George," Lance answered. "Grebert had given a 30% DP for us to proceed with the order. That¡¯s more than 800 units. I can add a couple of 100 units to suffice the needed 1600 units."


    "Where did you get the money, kid?" Damian asked.


    "I sold off the Tyll samples and gained 300 plus units," Lance replied.


    "The question remains, kid," George said, "how can you convert the Zelklings to currency?"


    "Let me do the marketing, George," Lance answered. "You do the supply and I will dispose them, and turn them into currency. Eventually, filling our pockets to a level of currency that we have not attained ever before."


    Everyone was excited, especially George. George knew that in one transaction would earn him 450 units. But if negotiation with the merchants in Axiom Trench, bulk buying could avail discounts. A 40-unit Tyllrium piece would maybe priced down to 35 units, driving to an additional earnings of 200 units.


    It appeared that everything was in order and the group only waited for the additional currency tomence purchase of Tyllrium.


    He went back to his cabin and surrendered himself to his massage chair. But this time, he did not activate the machine to proceed with the program.


    He just sat and enjoyed the chair¡¯s curvature perfectly embracing his back and torsos, down to his calves and soles.


    ¡¯Marketing. Marketing. Marketing.¡¯ Lance thought.


    "Jasper," Lance spoke towards the empty ceiling.


    "Master," Jasper responded.


    "Can you sweep an entry in the Meta world of Unitech shades?" Lance tested. "Pleasemence sweep." He took out the Unitech shades from its box. The Unitech ad music startled him again as the box opened.


    Jasper scanned the Shades as the user held it in his right hand. A perceptible holographicser line emerged, sprouting from the installed AI metallic box on his ceiling, and onto the shade¡¯s frame.


    "Hmm. Interesting. This operating system is dangerous, Master." Jasper said after a few streams of scans.


    "borate," Lancemanded.


    "The Unitech Shades is connected to a cloud with hackable firewalls. There were fail-safes but only to an amateur level."


    "What do you know about hacking?"


    "Well, you installed a hacking capability chip, Master," Jasper responded.


    "Hmm. Yeah, I remember." Lance snorted. "Tell me more,"


    "I am in. Activating operating system phase levels."


    "What do you see?"


    "I see a lot of advertising agencies who availed slots registered only to the coverage of Unitech Shades Operating system. Somehow these agencies paid Unitech to air their holographic advertisements if the user would activate the Shades."


    "Can you scan through the ck market category?" Lance asked.


    "Of course, master. This is where the users frequently looked for bootleg products. Mid-ssers these days wanted to look good butpromising product quality."


    "True, Jasper. Scan through Abominant categories," Lance said.


    "Abominants in the ck market? Surprisingly saleable, Master," Jasper continued his scan.


    "Blow up a hologram, Jasper," Lance said. A holographic representation appeared before him showing a series of images of all the merchandise sold in the ck market category.


    There were three Abominants in the ck market. The cheapest amongst them was Rattus for only 10 units.


    ¡¯Must be the Academy students for their anatomy splicing,¡¯ Lance thought.


    Secondly, an Abominated dog for 1000 units. It was called Skorgarz. He was not sure how they named the Abominant, Skorgarz. It looked familiar, though at first nce.


    Then he remembered, with a jolt of surprise, that he had seen three of them inside the Seer¡¯s tent.


    "Show profile," Lancemanded.


    All categories, use, form, breed, and even purchase history of its profile were depicted as ¡¯unknown¡¯. It only showed a picture and its price.


    ¡¯Interesting,¡¯ Lance thought.


    "Jasper, remind me about Skorgarz. I will ask about it. I think Axiom can supply me with these dogs."


    Then thirdly, the Zelkian for 120 units.


    "Open item specs and data," A series of specifications, use, dimensions, and other minute details were shown in a tabr form. It showed that there were a lot of citizens who sought Zelkians.


    Purchase history told him that there were over 500 heads of Zelkians sold to the Citizens. And at that moment, the advertiser was out of stock.


    "Trace advertiser, Jasper," Lancemanded.


    "Jonaz Enterprises," Jasper responded.


    Lance did not here about Jonaz Enterprises ever in his two-year trade scrapping career. His blood experienced a cold chill upon the thought of it. Such enterprise and the business he dealt with, partnering its organization with Unitech, probably a mob in disguise.


    Moreover, locating Jonaz Enterprises should be challenging.


    "Can you locate the office?"


    "Office location only indicates Bloomforge, Master," Jasper said.


    Bloomforge Enve was the capital sector of Axe Capital. It was where the high-echelon citizens were located and held the offices of high-ranking politicians and the Industrialist, Menks.


    "I know a man that can locate a ck marketer," Lance said.

 Chapter 22: Menacing Thoughts

    From Steelpoint District, where Lance resided, passing through Scrap yard Tier 1 that covered about 10 city blocks, that¡¯s half of Steelpoint District, located the Southern Market.


    Then beyond the expanse of the sprawling huts, over the coverage of the scrap yards, bordered by the Southern Walls ¨C mysteriously, the suspected entry point of the Wolf Abominant.


    It was months ago that the Wolfid waste a portion of Steelpoint¡¯s array of cabins, except for the scrap yards where devastation was its fitting definition. Luckily, the market¡¯s location was spared and left unscathed after a chaotic pursuit.


    If to some unfortunate event the market would be destroyed, the trade operations would cease and would significantly affect the ever-worsening economy of Steelpoint District. As well as a few adjacent sectors that depended upon the trade flow of scant merchandise.


    The Southern Market served as a bridge between Citizens and the regted way to acquire immediate currency and food supplies. Border licenses were issued to the Market merchants to trade merchandise from other Market Centers located all over the City, hence, presented importance to the Commoner¡¯s survival.


    A great suffering would ensue in the absence of the Southern market. In the absence of license to cross the regted borders, such as mainly the surrounding mid-ssers districts, there was no legal way to procure supplies, food, and othermodities. Therefore, the absence of Southern Market, or in any Commoner¡¯s market, posed a great predicament to the majormunities they respectively serve.


    A year ago, tens of thousands died because of thirst. Especially the old citizens. Moreover, the unfortunate citizens were allmoners.


    If the Abominant sessfully wiped the market out, there would have been weeks of challenging food supply. Therefore, the probability of the death toll would rise again.


    The City Government wouldn¡¯t want mid-ssers, which holds the second majority of the popce, toin about unlicensedmoners crossing borders.


    If such, an assumption would entail an incremental risk of criminality in the ever-peaceful streets of mid-sser sectors.


    ¡¯A menacing possibility,¡¯ Lance shrugged at the thought.


    The entry of Abominant could be staged and whoever was behind such a sinister plot wanted the Commoners to suffer. The idea of it would greatly corrte to the possibility that a mole lived among the Rebels.


    A traitor.


    But questions remained, who cooked this grand scheme? Who pulled the strings? What is the motive? Who has to gain more if the Commoner poption is reduced significantly?


    Hatred and anger flooded his thoughts.


    He sauntered upon the same path from his cabin towards the Market. The w marks of the beast were still discernible among the unfortunate cabin walls of Steelpoint residences.


    Up on the far end corner just after a few blocks, the beast mauled a woman. He witnessed the gore incident. With its protruding teeth, the wolf just grabbed the woman along the curb like a chunk of meat and dragged her half-alive body a few blocks further deep into Steelpoint. Her blood profusely draining from the bite marks.


    The dead woman was released after her limbs were detached from her body and into the creature¡¯s belly. A young man had the same fate. Although he scarred the beast at its jowl with a scrapped metal shard, however, it did not dishearten the rabid Abominant.


    Lance remembered that he followed the beast a mile further until he was stopped by the border police who triangted the wolf¡¯s location. Explosions were heard behind the stockpile of cabins just a few blocks from where Lance stood.


    It shook the Earth beneath his feet.


    Unluckily to the nearby cabins, the st had coteral casualties of a family of three, as the News reported after the incident and authorities identified the body count of the unfortunate.


    The creature screamed loudly, reaching the heavens, sharp, and utterly diforting nearby eardrums. The beast ravaged intensely, making affected structures to rubble, and the panic of the surroundingmoners raged almost overpowering the chaotic nuisance.


    People ran from random directions, screaming, and calling the names of their families. The beast continued to wreak havoc while the police in hovercrafts persisted in their pursuit and executing the full capability of their weapons.


    Guns sprayed all over the block to where the beast seemed to be elusive to fend off the bullets. It ran fast, moved fast, and escaped faster. However, the police had their weapons to trap the Abominant in an inescapable barrage.


    Trapped, the wolf desperately wed its way up towards the hovering police tin men and mutted a couple of them, instantly meeting their sudden demise. The bulging muscles on its hind legs apparently supported its leap, almost reaching over the stack of cabins.


    One swoop of its w savaged the hovercraft against adjacent walls, including the robotic police riders, scattering its remains into the ground.


    Despite its agility,ser guns did the trick. It punctured through its shelled body that even high-caliber weapons couldn¡¯t prate, stunning the beast at the same time as theser grazed its flesh.


    The beast was hurting, weapons decimated its nks. Lance was sure about it, however, it took almost forever to pin down the beast to itsst breath.


    A quarter mile back to where Lance followed, the wolf fell to its belly. A viscous ooze flowed out from its wounds and a ck miasma emerged, painting the dark atmosphere.


    Lance pitied the creature, surprised to how he felt. Maybe due its eyes almost had a trace of domestication as itsst breath escaped from his body.


    Despite its clear defeat, the hovering police, humans and robots alike, continued to detonate electric stun grenades around the emaciated carcass.


    After a streaks of lightning, the creature¡¯s body jerked as electricity invaded its pores by a burning charge. Although it was already lifeless.


    ¡¯Double tap,¡¯ Lance thought remembering Handsome taught him how to kill a level 3 Abominant.


    These were abnormal beings and ying dead could be their ultimate strategy of defense if their opponent appeared to be victorious.


    The appalling episode still haunts him.


    Shaking the bitter memories, he continued his course. He was lucky that the beast veered in a direction far from where he lived; otherwise, he would receive the same fate as the unfortunate family.


    ***


    "Obsidian Scorpion Armor!" Lance ced an exoskeleton armor of the level 3 Abominant that they ughtered in Trench Hill, a thud on the Trading Hut¡¯s counter.


    Roger turned to him with a surprised and annoyed expression on his face.


    "What is this, kid?" Roger grunted almost ignoring Lance¡¯s offer.


    "Pawning this, Roger," Lance stated. "I know you cane up with a price like this rare material."


    Roger squinted back again at the kid and finally trained his vision on the Obsidian exoskeleton. Releasing a great sigh, Roger took a magnifying ss and inspected the material closely.


    The Trading Hut merchant caressed it carefully with his fingertips and the magnifying ss hovered closely to its surface.


    "Where did you get this?" Roger asked but continued to inspect the material.


    "I know you know that this material is of value, is it not?" Lance said.


    "Is this real?" Roger asked, still skeptical about what was in front of him.


    "Of course, Roger," Lance retorted. "You know me right, I am known for quality materials. I am not selling any bootleg. Otherwise, I will tell you if it is."


    "No way you can get your hands on these?" Roger stopped his inspection and red his stares to the boy.


    "Hey, it¡¯s not easy to harvest this," Lance maintained his friendly rapport aspromising to the apparent moody merchant.


    "How?"


    "By killing an Obsidian scorpion." Lance smiled.


    "Get outta here," Roger was still skeptical, never leaving his intense stare to the young kid.


    "It¡¯s true. Remember that I asked about Axiom Trench?" Lance said and Roger gave a nudge at that. The merchant¡¯s eyes turned to the valuable material in front of him. "I went there with some friends of mine, scrapper friends and we managed to harvest this on a dead Obsidian scorpion."


    "A Scorpion you say?"


    "Yeah, a scorpion. I know it¡¯s worth a fortune. I heard that these materials are being bought by furniturepanies that the higher echelons buy from. The obsidian armor is used for their fancy tables and chairs. Others maybe, they put it on their walls."


    "Oh yeah. Clever little runt, aren¡¯t you?" Roger leaned forward to the cowering boy. His sweaty body expelled a heavy odor that diforts sensitive nostrils.


    "Runt? That¡¯s harsh Roger. Why are you so hostile?"


    "I don¡¯t know, kid? You tell me?"


    An awkward silence aired between them. The odor that came from the merchant stilled heaved the Trading hut. He knew that Roger was trying to fish information about a high-grade material like the Obsidian armor. Somehow, he had his reasons unknown to the kid.


    "100 units a kilo. That¡¯s way lower than its marketable price." Lance finally said.


    Roger leaned further back, away from Lance¡¯s face now.


    "Fair price. That¡¯s what I like about you, kid." Roger smiled.


    ¡¯Probably I was charging him way lower than he expected,¡¯ Lance thought.


    Roger took the b of exoskeleton from the counter and weighed it on a hanging digital weighing scale without hesitation.


    "Five kilos, kid. Fair and square." Roger said, however, the digital says otherwise. The disy appeared 5.2 kg.


    "Now wait, Roger. What about the 200 grams?" Lanceined.


    "What about it, kid? Do you want it to be 4.5 kg instead?" Roger intimidated.


    "Ok. Ok. Roger. You seemed to be in a bad mood today. 5 kilos it is. For 500 units." Lance said.


    Roger nodded and took out 5 cards from his registry. The Market does not trade currencies using online transfers. They used cards of a certain value that contained a particr amount of currency. The card has its digital disy that would depict the avable currency stored in its chip.


    "Those feckers!" Roger grunted as he double-checked the cards into a scanner. The scanner suggested that each of them had 100 units amounting to 500 units in total. "The water is out again for hours!"


    Lance understood Roger¡¯s temper. It¡¯s always a water shortage. It exined the merchant¡¯s smell. Lance knew the reason for such a shortage but refused to disclose the rationale behind.


    "I know, right? They only served the inders for sufficient water supply, neglecting us,moners." He somehow tamed the fuming smelly merchant.


    Roger shook his head but he agreed to what Lance had said.


    "Anyway, we are doing fair exchange here, right?" Lance exhaled and emphasized. "For the 200 grams unpaid for my merch, can you give me information about Jonaz Enterprises?"


    Luckily, Roger knew them.

 Chapter 23: Bloomforge

    Even with the smooth engine hum of the Taxicraft, hovercraft for rent, Damian¡¯s foot tapped sessively against the sophisticated material rubber floor mat. With arms spread, he seemed to be nonchnt in a new and possibly hostile territory.


    Hostile, not because the streets were dangerous, but because the upper echelon ss might be unreceptive to people like them,moners.


    Despite the majority of his bodynguage being nonchnt-looking, his fidgeting leg says otherwise. Lance pleasured upon the site of it. Apparently, Damian had a nightmarish look on his face upon treading the upper territorial ss, more than facing monsters beyond the walls.


    He was a Specialist. He earned beyond the walls for a living thus the gore violence and annihting colossal Abominants were way better than facing racist inders.


    "Feeling nervous?" Lance asked as he satfortably in front of Damian¡¯s.


    The back seats of the Taxicraft were arranged to emte that of afortable couch with an Air conditioning system adjustable to the back seaters.


    Damian pulled his eyesight from the expanse of the Bloomforge scenery and back to Lance. "I am not really sure." Damian only smiled. He was a man of few words, however, during the trip, his words became almost non-existent.


    "Don¡¯t worry, Damian. It¡¯s gonna be fine. And besides, I¡¯ve been here a couple of times." The kid said.


    "What were you doing here?" Damian seemed to have regained his rxed nerves. It was clear upon his foot now stretched and resting.


    "Trading. I have a customer here, an Electrical Tier 2."


    "How did you know these customers?"


    "Referrals, Damian. Scrap materials are hard to find and can only be found in our sectors. And these Scientists talk about how to getponents."


    "What kind of scraps are you selling here? It seems that they only use quality materials and not some worn-out garbage."


    "You are right, Damian!" Lance anticipated his colleague¡¯s inquisition. "They don¡¯t use garbage building this ce. My scrapponents were used as materials for the Scientists¡¯ inventions. For one to augment a level to another, he should be able to at least have one invention. And what I am selling aremon-levelponents that are widely used by Scientists."


    "Kid, you are full of surprises."


    "If you need me to borate on theponents, I could enumerate them for you?" Lance started to tease. Damian hated science topics. He only knew weapons and war.


    "No. No. No. Let me be in peace," Damian smoothed his kimono-like clothing and straightened his Unitech shades that Lance bought him.


    Lance was sure that Damian pleasured among the gigantic holographic advertisements through the Unitech shades since they set foot in one of the mid-sser sectors.


    He too, was surprised that it was way more diverse than what he had experienced in Wraithport. The holographic advertisements wererger, more defined, and more popted, and the graphics were realistic. He took out his shades asionally as he had to take respite away from this festive annoyance.


    ¡¯Am I getting, old?¡¯ Lance, a 16-year old asked himself.


    Both wore smooth kimono-like clothing with no pockets and partnered with trendy Unitech Shades. Fortunately, their clothes were avable in the Southern market, original imitations, and came in very cheap - 4 units each.


    At least, they looked almost like middle-ssers if one would not gawk at them for a long time and observe the inconsistency of the tailor¡¯s work along the seams.


    "Currency reminder, as what you instructed, Master," Jasper prompted, whispered behind his ear.


    "Go on," Lance answered.


    "You have 2,072 units," Jasper reported.


    "State current purchases," Lance said.


    "From 2230 units yesterday, 500 units earnings from the Obsidian armor. You spent 100 units for Unitech shades for Damian, 8 units for clothing, and 50 units for total transportation cost to Bloomforge."


    "Copy that. Remind me again tomorrow. It¡¯s hard to keep track of my money, nowadays."


    "Don¡¯t forget your groceries, master,"


    "Yeah, I know. It¡¯s the 3rd week of the month," Lance responded. He scheduled his grocery not in the 4th week of the month as mostmoners do as he nned to prevent the heaving shoppers in the marketce.


    Such happenstance would be an utter waste of his time.


    They began to ascend as the Taxicraft prevented traffic ahead. It had no driver. Lance only inputted their destination through a touchscreen pad inside the craft.


    Two floors, three floors, and four floors high had their vehicle climbed up. And the holographic advertisements blew up to their faces like fireworks.


    The Capital Sector held most of the neon lights. The digital screens wererger than all Sectors had and the aerial neon lights mantled the space, and its atmosphere, blinding the citizens from the horrendous scenery of ck thunderous clouds.


    If you flew over this nket of various light wavelengths, it would appear the Earth¡¯s true face - the darkness, the toxicity, the blinding gust of wind, and every bitter truth that would deste one¡¯s mood.


    Even from below, one could not fully witness the floating MAFs.


    Bloomforge was different from other sectors. Despite the tall structures that other Sectors had, Bloomforge Enve held precarious-looking structures.


    The craft passed on a tall obelisk, the tallest that one could ever witnessed. Looking from afar, the obelisk stood like a needle puncturing the heavens that would bleed ck miasma simr to the blood coursing through the veins of Abominants.


    Encircling its base was a park with monuments and statues. Remember, this age, this City, held no living tree. All structures were concrete, rocks, metallic, or stic based materials were used for construction.


    ¡¯Lost Engineers held the secrets of Botany," Lance thought upon the lifeless park at a monumental structure.


    ¡¯It¡¯s best that parks should at least have ornamental trees. It would contrast the dryness of everything else,¡¯ He continued to train his thought of what ifs.


    ¡¯The Lost Engineers held the secrets! If I could only talk to them and study their professions, I would be unstoppable.¡¯


    After a few turns and a numerous ascent and descent of their Taxicraft, Damian witnessed another precarious-looking structure. Instead of an Obelisk, it was a statue of a man built to an unknown persona.


    Andmark bathed with forgotten glory stood amongst mundane structures, augmenting the mystery of its meaning. However, this statue, reaching 30 stories high, stood proud and indestructible. As if the man who portrayed held all the secrets of Science, was hailed as a hero of the Century, or belonged to a politician that nobility stood higher than selfishness.


    The statue held a man¡¯s form, square-faced jaw, clothed like the High Academics wore before the post-apocalyptic era, and held a book on his right hand closed to his chest.


    Unfortunately, nobody knew the Statue. Upper echelons even called it the ¡¯No Name Statue¡¯. Lance only called it ¡¯The Statue¡¯.


    Nobody dared to take the Statue down even though it consumed two City blocks just to support its base. It was built way before the time that the government had various governing hierarchies and among them all, stood the most authority called the President.


    Without the solid formed foundations below its feet made of dense cylindrical steel that wound up to the Statue¡¯s calves, it would fall against a strong wind.


    Despite its ancient appearance, unmaintained, it defines the meaning of motivation and the pure essence of a human being.


    For Lance, it signified that humans were once a moral race, free of hate, free of dark agendas, and only driven to augment themselves by cultivating, challenging, and learning the ever-mysterious depths of Science and the higher power beyond the limits of the unknown.


    "Fascinating!" Damian said as they glide circrly around the Statue synchronizing the meeting traffic.


    "A Statue with no name," Lance scoffed.


    Damian was speechless though upon its sight. His face never left the transparent ss window, his cheek leaving fog marks on it.


    "A few clicks from here, we will arrive at Changan Street," Lance said as he inspected his holographic GPS.


    "Commencing descent," The AI voice in the Taxicraft loomed as their vehicle decelerated and drifted on ground level, a meter high hovering above the concrete, and amongst other Taxicrafts entering the boulevard.


    Their vehicle took a sharp right turn away from the popted boulevard, Changan Street. Their craft passed by a narrow road in between the back portions of various buildings. It was as if a secret passage through a secret door, however, there was no door, only an inconspicuous corner between unsuspecting establishments.


    Judging from the quietness and the absence of neon lights, the narrow passage was simr to the quiet streets of Steelpoint or any other dangerous streets of a Commoner¡¯s sector.


    "You have arrived. Your destination is on the right," The AI voice said after the Taxicraftnded.

 Chapter 24: Mafia

    "Here," Lance handed a handgun to Damian as he unsped a bundle of metal pipes from his knapsack. Damian had a knapsack too which stored something of value.


    Weapons were prohibited in the boundaries of Bloomforge Sectors and most of the Ind Sectors of some sort. However, Lance managed to slip through metal detectors, obscuring illegal merchandise in a bundle of randomly formed metal clippings, shards, sheets, and pipes.


    Beneath the bundle, the scrapper sheathed their weapons to avoid detection. They should be ready at all times. As Roger taunted, Jonaz Enterprises was an originating ck Market group. The original Mafia as he gruesomely defined it. Lance ced his Laser de Hunting knife in its scabbard behind his back underneath his clothes.


    Damian holstered his gun in his waist behind his shirt. The weapons they brought would not suffice to kill all the Mafia members, rather, their weapons served different purposes for the beholder. Damian brought a handgun to defend themselves if the situation dictates. He also felt naked without a gun out of his reach.


    On the other hand, Lance brought his Laser-ded knife for confidence boosting. He had zero skills when it came to skirmishes and obviously, also in hand-to-handbat. Even though their safety relied solely on the ex-military, he should have a weapon to defend himself.


    They continued to press on a narrow alley. It was not dark but it was quiet. Lucky for Lance, he was used to the dark gloomy streets of Steelpoint, however, what the shadows obscured the unknown dangers irked him to his immense fear.


    His fingertips had this weird coldness, shrinking the skin underneath his fingernails. He was stiff as he started to amble, every step he took was effortful. Damian, as usual, bullied Lance¡¯s obvious fear emanating from thetter¡¯s bodynguage.


    "Now, who¡¯s talking," Damian teased. Lance frequented his visits to Bloomforge Enve every time he had dealings. However, sauntering within narrow and dangerous-looking roads, like the one they had at the moment, crept gooseflesh along his back, tickling its way in at the rear of his eyeballs. Provided him an involuntary minute shaking of his head, his eyeballs seemed to bulge out.


    His stares never left to where the alley would lead them. His heart thumped fast, hammering hard against his chest. Damian¡¯s arms just swayed freely, whistling as he walked.


    "Shut up, Damian!" Lance retorted. "Don¡¯t take these guys lightly. They are Mafia for Science¡¯s sake!"


    LED street bulbs lined up along the alleyway provided no surprise attacks thus a handgun would be unnecessary. In any case, having a gun on anyone¡¯s hand would present an increased probability that one can get shot.


    The echoing music and thunderous sound systems that yed Unitech¡¯s advertisement had failed to reach within the constricted alleyways, hence, the quietness.


    As he craned his head, his vision striking through the topmost edges of the buildings, heaving strobe lights from different directions, looked likesers firing randomly.


    ¡¯It was a party out there,¡¯ Lance thought. ¡¯And zero party in here.¡¯


    "Just around the corner, we can see a sign board that says ¡¯Jonaz Enterprises,¡¯" Lance said, his voice shaking every waking second closer to their destination.


    "I have been fighting against monsters for all my life, now it¡¯s the time to test my skills among men," The Ex-soldier was clearly excited. He even shadowboxed as he said those words.


    The alleyway took them to another left turn. However, the narrow road became wider and possessed brighter illumination than the previous one. At the end of the alleyway, about a few meters farther, a neon-light-filled signage was discernable from where they stood.


    ¡¯Jonaz Enterprises,¡¯ Lance read the signboard in his thoughts.


    "Do you really need to do this kid? This seemed dangerous." Damian suggested, finding some reassurance from the immensely fearful boy.


    "Well, we don¡¯te here to fight them, Damian. We are here to deal."


    Below the signage was a single metallic door. On each side, stood two well-dressed ck-d bodyguards. Lance and Damian stopped to where the first flight of stairs hit their toes.


    As Lance began to speak, a goon sneaked behind Damian. Lance halted and as he squinted back, he saw a de¡¯s tip almost kissing Damian¡¯s throat with the perp¡¯s other arm wrapped around the ex-soldier¡¯s waist. The perp¡¯s body was close to Damian¡¯s, leaving thetter without room to breathe and restricted sudden movements.


    "Who are you?" The perp¡¯s voice was hoarse as if tar had conquered his lungs.


    As Lance was about to start exining, Damian pulled his neck out with his right free hand twisted the perp¡¯s wrist, and disarmed the knife in the process. His movements were at lightning speed and in the blink of Lance¡¯s eye, the perp was dislodged away from Damian with a bleeding nose and the knife nking on the ground.


    The perp rustled a few steps back and crashed to a slippery corner that resulting his fall.


    The perp¡¯s grapple seemed tight, however, the ex-soldier was somehow trained in self-defense.


    "You little.." The perp squirmed like a girl while his hand wiped away the blood that rushed out his nose. Trying to recover his dignity, the perp hauled himself immediately.


    He had his two friends witnessing a shameful disy of his skill and he clearly wanted redemption.


    "Rigor!" A calm voice interjected the ruckus. It was the goon on the right that guarded the door. "Enough! This is our visitors, let them be." Rigor was silenced and picked the de up from the ground. His blood still dripped onto his ck-d clothing and grunted his way to the metallic door in front of them.


    His deathly stares trained unto Lance and asionally squinted at Damian.


    ¡¯If he attacks me, I will bury my de to his thigh,¡¯ Confidence conquered his thoughts, surprisingly.


    "We want to see Jonas," Lance said after Rigor leaned against the metallic door behind the two bodyguards. "We are going to offer a deal." He was poised right after watching a menacing-looking goon embarrassingly handled by his partner.


    "I understand," the guard responded. His demeanor did not match his bald head with a single tattoo on his chin. It was a tribal design. He had shades like Lance and Damian had. His smooth silky clothing emphasized his upper body, muscles popped out apparently under stretchable garments.


    The other guy, adjacent to where he stood, had almost the same features but he had a mohawk instead, unmatching his unhostile baby face.


    "It¡¯s our custom to enter this room weapons-free. Please submit your weapons in this box," The guard pointed to a simple ck box, like a trash box, that sits idly at the side of his right foot.


    The goon intimidated Lance which froze his brain function, but it was Damian who took a step forward and responded.


    "I think that¡¯s not possible, pal," Damian responded. "Our weapons should stay with us. We don¡¯t trust you guys."


    "Then whatever you came here for, please turn back and return if you don¡¯t wish toply with our rules." The goon retorted.


    "Ok. Ok." Lance intervened. He patted Damian¡¯s back. "We will submit our weapons."


    The Rebels was a fearsome group of ex-soldiers, ex-politicians, freedom fighters, and more that could contribute to the cause. The Media had augmented stories of how the rebels terrorized various Sectors.


    Lance knew that only a portion of it was true. Such undebatable truth where the rebels are armed and dangerous. Dangerous to the Corporation and the Government but not to the innocent citizens.


    If they had to reveal that Damian was a rebel, they would have gained the other party¡¯s respect. But it wouldpromise their business dealings.


    "Are you sure, kid?" Damian asked. "These guys could trick us."


    "It¡¯s fine, Damian. Wee here with good intentions."


    The metallic door opened for them and they were invited in, weapons-free.

 Chapter 25: Synapz

    "Business, you say," The goon asked.


    "ck market business. I have a supply of merch if he wants," Lance responded.


    "What kind of merch? Powder?" Rigor teased. "Dealers, are we?


    "The Unitech merch that he advertised," Lance replied, ignoring Rigor.


    The goon did not answer but he gestured both visitors to invite them for an inspection and took themselves at the end of the stairs where the door stood.


    Rigor did the inspection, he insisted. He trained his hands over Damian¡¯s body without missing an inch, except for the groin of course. He had these deathly stares towards Damian during his search but thetter effortlesslyplied, emotionless and arms widespread.


    His handgun was already submitted in the box full of other weapons, knives, handguns, even iron knuckles, and other small weapons easy to smuggle inside Bloomforge border security.


    Despite the hostility, Damian¡¯s face had maintained nonchnce, like he could twist Rigor¡¯s neck for a split second. Lance and Damian had alternative stares as if they weremunicating telepathically, the former restraining thetter to implode with his brute force towards the foolish perp.


    Apparently, the deed was easy to execute. Damian had this typical ex-soldier built while Rigor had the opposite. Rigor seemed to have suffered hunger every day and relied on drugs to keep himself strong, mentally, and energetic. His bony facial features suggested that he was in his early forties, or maybe younger but the drugs could have elerated his aging.


    ¡¯This Mafia could have dealt drugs in the ck market,¡¯ Lance thought.


    Lance heard stories about a party drug that overdosed three girls on rage party night. The drug was called Synapz. Jonaz Enterprises probably had dealt these drugs inside Bloomforge and spread them to adjacent Sectors.


    Which made them more dangerous.


    "You¡¯re good, pretty boy," Rigor turned to Lance and thetter followed as Damian did. He spread his arms and legs apart.


    "Elementary, are we?" Rigor said, his hoarse voice sounded like a gargle up close. "Young to be in this neighborhood. I hope you know what you¡¯re doin¡¯ kid. Pretty boy would not be around all the time to protect you."


    Rigor was thorough, hands sping hisnky limbs hard never missing an inch, except his crotch. Rigor¡¯s hand found the strap protruding against his upper clothing and training to his back where his knife was holstered.


    "Something fishy about you, kid." Rigor chuckled menacingly. "What do we have here?"


    Lance did not respond and let the perp took out his knife in a scabbard from the straps.


    "Wooh, nice weapon. Umon level." Rigor struck the air with the knife still holstered in its scabbard. It was apparent that this perp liked to y with knives, his expression says it all. "I would like to keep this for myself."


    Rigorughed softly. His eyes never left the kid.


    "You can¡¯t do that. It has sentimental value," Lance responded. "Besides, that knife does not suit you. It looked way too good for you."


    Rigorughed preposterously, and his stares pierced to the kid after.


    "Rigor," therger goon reprimanded. "Submit the weapon will yah and let¡¯s get on with this."


    Rigor followed suit without further bullying.


    "Your face I would remember, fishy," Rigor said to Lance as the former opened the metallic door. "Easily, I say." He emphasized.


    Therger goon told them the directions to Jonaz¡¯s office.


    Lance and Damian pressed on a constricted concrete tunnel-like entrance. Graphic vandalism filled the well-smoothened concrete, dim red lights illuminated the space causing him to be disheartened and discouraging his pace.


    "Having second thoughts, kid?" Damian asked as soon as he realized.


    "No," Lance responded despite knowing that Damian was right. This was a necessity, a significant way of marketing his Zelkian production. He could not transport Zelkian Abominant, or any Abominant, into Sectoral Border inspections, otherwise, the Governing Laws Department (GLD) concretized thesews that one would be incarcerated. "We proceed as nned."


    He gained faster steps this time into the constricted way and towards the door located at the opposite end.


    "Ready, kid?" Damian asked as his palm was ready to push the door open.


    Lance only nodded and Damian pushed the door open. To their surprise, they were greeted with a calmer environment. The ominous graphic vandals on the walls and the dim red lights were reced byforting music and a refreshing set of overhung penlights.


    It was arger room with high ceilings heaved with sophisticated couches and dining tables. The walls seemed to neutralize the ce with aforting glow - the absence of any graphic abstract vandals sophisticated the ce.


    The unpainted walls had a rustic finish as if emting close to a wooden design. There was no wood furniture or even wooden walls. All were concrete and metallic.


    They don¡¯t have trees, remember.


    Despite the absence of wood, the interior design managed to duplicate wooden features in corners and wall borders through the artistic use of paint. Expensive bottles of wine and spirits filled a bar at the opposite end of the well-arranged dining cubicles. Behind the array of expensive bottles ced on depressed cabs, a bluish glow radiated refracting varied colors against the beverages.


    The LED lights were spaced and designed to achieve tranquility, not bright enough to awaken the resting nerves, but to soothe hurting souls.


    Lance felt the vibe. It was way more different than what was outside.


    ¡¯Bloomforge underground,¡¯ Lance thought.


    "Wee, guests," The bartender said as they ambled in a carpeted floor. His voice was weing without a hint of hostility. Only friendliness. His suit ds with a ck silky suit, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Despite his sociable demeanor, his arms portrayed otherwise.


    They were demonic tattoo designs all over them that ran along his fingers, deftly wiping kitchen knife smeared with little red liquid.


    ¡¯Probably blood,¡¯ Lance thought upon the sight of it.


    At the far end corner, settled three bodyguards, assuming as they have simr clothing, with their attention striking towards the two guests.


    On the other end, farther from the goons, arger and morefortable dining partition encircled five upper-echelon citizens ¨C jewelry on their wrists and neck, pastel-colored clothing, wine sses on their table, and a bulk of slimy flesh in a dish.


    The woman server, clearly amoner, poured a bright pinkish liquid into their empty wine sses. As the liquid was dispensed, a thick pinkish smoke appeared as it touched the ss, floating downwards, creeping to their feet, and filling the bottom of their table as if they were in a pinkish cloud.


    Lance had never seen such a beverage in his entire life. Strands of pinkish smoke crept to their feet as well, like it was alive, its smoky ends extended like arms reaching, to find sce or an exit to a cruel very. The pinkish smoke encircled to Lance¡¯s feet and it crept to his nostrils.


    It had a different smell; it was iprehensible that he could not exin at first. For a second, it smelled like metallic trash, identical to the scrapyards, and as it subsided, it was already aromatic ¨C like thedy¡¯s perfume that the middle-ssers wore.


    Despite the aroma, his vision seemed to blur for a second. His mind floated a bit to a sumbing rest. Seemingly, his limbs limped to his sides as if energy escaped him.


    His sanity was challenged, and the surroundings vibrated apanied by throbbing waves of pain at the center of his forehead.


    ¡¯Synapz,¡¯ Lance overcame and relied on his mental strength. Damian felt the same but he stood still without the smoke affected his stance, his face concerned with theid kid.


    The five customers seemed delighted with the smoke, theirugh echoing towards the high ceilings. Right after, the server poured another liquid, a white viscous liquid flowed from a different bottle to the bulk of slimy flesh, asrge as the ser ball on a porcin dish.


    The server handled the bottle so deftly that the liquid was poured, even though it was high from the dish but avoided sttering to the encircling customers. As the liquid bathed the slimy flesh, it moved. A few tentacles unrolled from the bulking flesh like it was alive. It stayed on the te, fortunately.


    Lance gagged upon the site of it, gruesome to even fathom. However, the customers were at their peaks of joy.


    "Ah, you are lookin¡¯ for Jonaz?¡¯ The Bartender asked.


    "Yes," Lance replied. The bartender pointed to the door at the far end. He was not sure if the slimy flesh of dish just moved because it was triggered by the liquid or just the effects of the drug, Synapz.


    "That door will take to him after a flight of stairs. Please proceed, guests," The bartender said.


    They continued to press on, passing through the center of the restaurant.

 Chapter 26: Synapz 2

    As they started walking, their footfalls were silenced by the thick carpet that mantled the restaurant¡¯s flooring. However, everyone in the restaurant stared at them as if they were meek prey among a flock of predators.


    Their clothes might have given their ranks away. To Lance, they looked like mid-ssers. But probably the higher echelons in the dining partition knew something they didn¡¯t know.


    Or maybe the way Lance walked, groggy, and stupid. His feet seemed to have a mind of their own, unsynchronized and misdirected. Due to this, he had several bumps against Damian.


    Lucky for the kid, Damian walked firmly without any hint of disarray. Lance¡¯s mind challenged every detail that his eyes registered.


    "A drink perhaps," The bartender offered a shot ss, half full, on his counter, of white translucent liquid. "I suggest you drink this."


    "What is this for?" Damian asked on Lance¡¯s behalf.


    "I can see that this environment greatly affects the kid. This is what we pour in our dishes, like that on their table." The bartender exined. "This will ease your friend¡¯s senses."


    The bartender referred to the upper echelon ss citizens who enjoyed a moving octopus-like dish. It was the same liquid the waitress poured.


    "There is no poison here if that¡¯s what you are thinking. The atmosphere in this restaurant is filled with pink cloud, as all our customers wanted to taste a heavenly feel. But mind you, the pink cloud can overdose to those frail-minded citizens, like maybe your friend right there."


    Lance stood firmly behind Damian as they stopped at the center of the Bartender¡¯s counter. But Lance felt that he was floating, the straight edges of the walls, and the tables seemed to wave and everything was vibrating.


    He looked back at the Upper echelon¡¯s table as the Bartender mentioned the white translucent vinegar. They ate the octopus-like dish as they severed the limbs with a kitchen knife.


    Then his focus shifted to Damian and the Bartender again. They looked normal, the two of them up close, but their bodies seemed to vibrate like they had moving rotors inside them. His sanity was challenged but he was mentally strong. He knew what was real or not, although his body was almost way beyond his control.


    ¡¯Don¡¯t move. Steady yourself.¡¯ Lance struggled to concentrate on the thought, regaining full control of his seeming involuntary movements.


    "A problem boy!" The bodyguard sped hisrge hand upon Lance¡¯s shirt. His body elevated from the ground like he was starting to fly.


    ¡¯Am I flying?¡¯ He thought disregarding the fearsome-looking bodyguard that lifted him.


    Lance heard somebody calling from afar, it sounded like Damian. But he disregarded it though. His flight was way more exciting. The vibrating face in front of him was confusing. The face was smiling, so it raised no problem.


    ¡¯Everything is fine. I am happy where I am now.¡¯ Lance sumbed to his thought.


    He heard again a voice calling his name, blurry, like it came from underwater. The voice was getting closer.


    ¡¯An abominant?¡¯ He thought. It sounded like an Abominant. It knew his name and he understood thenguage even though the words were fuzzy. Not only the words were fuzzy, but everything else had a chaotic yet harmonious kind of way.


    Vibrating intensely.


    Lance started to swim. He felt his feet were floating from the ground; thus, swimming was the best option. He could leverage his movement in the air as he swam. He must get away from the pursuing Abominant.


    He had no fear in him, only the thought of an Abominant who was going to munch him in pieces might be a bad idea.


    Suddenly, he can¡¯t move his arms. A chain, dressed in silky pastel-colored clothing, wrapped around his body down to his ankles. The chain vibrated then it moved like a snake, its head with its bulging eyes, was menacingly looking at him.


    ¡¯Snakes? An Abominant Snake was pursuing me?¡¯ Lance thought. He was not afraid. He was not surprised. Everything seemed to have one emotion registered in his brain, only excitement.


    Then, he closed his eyes. The excitement was gone and reced by a severe headache and utter pain in his pelvis.


    He groaned with his eyes closed. Waves of pain, without respite, experienced his skull as if it was going to implode. He hauled himself up consuming every wisp of energy left in his limbs, his thumbs pressing hard against his temples.


    "Apologies, my friends. The kid experienced Cloud 9." It was the Bartender¡¯s voice exining to the bodyguard¡¯s table.


    Lance was surprised as he opened his eyes. His feet might have taken him to their table. The three bodyguards were hauled from their seats and one was agitated almost to a fight. But the Bartender was in between Damian and the aggressive Bodyguard.


    Then Lance assessed himself, training his hands to the emerging dimforts, the searing pain that loomed on his pelvis and his aching head. Suddenly, he recognized a sharp revolting taste that experienced his tongue and ran down to his throat.


    He started to gag, thinking that he could expel a poison he just ingested. He used his finger to tickle his throat to trigger a vomit.


    "No, don¡¯t do it, kid!" Damian pulled his hand out from his mouth.


    "What is this?" Lance asked. But his question was meant for everything that he did not understand.


    "You drank the antidote," Damian responded.


    "What happened?" Lance asked and attended to his headache once again.


    "First time of the pink cloud, kid. That is the side effect. Drinking the antidote will give you headaches. I thought you were going to fight them on your own," Damian exined, he had his annoying chuckle every time he mocked the kid.


    Fortunately, the bodyguards understood and they were back in their seats and disregarded the fuss. The Bartender turned to them afterward.


    "Are you all right, kid?" He asked. His politeness never ceased. Despite his calm and polite demeanor, the bodyguards seemed to have utter respect with him as he easily disengaged ensuing trouble against them and Damian.


    "Why am I here?" Lance asked.


    "I thought you remember," Damian said. "You walked away from me, I have been calling your name. You seemed determined to face the bodyguards on your own and you challenged them to fight me, you moron!" Damian said.


    "I grabbed you from behind as the guard lifted you then I pulled you from his grip and you pushed yourself like you don¡¯t know me. You struggled and you fell to your butt," Damian released a slight chuckle.


    "You are lucky," Damian continued. "The Bartender here has an antidote."


    It exined the sharp taste he experienced, burning his throat even after the side effects subsided.


    "I call it the Anticloud," The bartender proudly said. "It¡¯s just vinegar and 5 other ingredients. Don¡¯t worry the headache will go away after a few minutes. It¡¯s just your system is fighting against the Pink Cloud."


    "I don¡¯t wanna know about the 5 ingredients. What is that pink cloud anyway?"


    "You also don¡¯t wanna know that kid," The Bartender responded and ushered them towards the door. "This door will take you to the kitchen. Remember kid, what you see in there is not an illusion anymore. Everything you see should only be within these walls."


    His senses recovered, attuned to the almost shameful deed he had a while ago.


    "What about Jonaz, what is he like?" Lance asked.


    "He is ck and white, kid. It¡¯s either you are in or not," The Bartender responded. "Maybe, he will like you or not. It¡¯s up to you."

 Chapter 27: Kitchen

    "Remember kid, ck and white," The Bartender reminded him as he pushed open the kitchen door.


    They sauntered in a foyer, a painting on the wall of a man was facing them. But what crept into a small area was the smell of an aromatic dish. He had once had a dish with this aroma before, a chunk of meat skewed in a stick and grilled above a heated surface.


    It was when he had dealings with an Electronic Tier in Bloomforge. His customer had an apparent delight munching the meat, wiping off oil from his lips. Luckily, Lance had a small portion. Even if it was a bite-size, however, his hunger and his pte were satisfied beyond proportions.


    ¡¯Magic-filled dish,¡¯ Lance thought as the juice from the bite-sized meat flowed toward his taste buds. Closing one¡¯s eyes was way more fulfilling as the food slid through his throat.


    The char of the meat released an aroma along with the spice embedded within its pores that would growl one¡¯s hungry stomach.


    It was that same aroma.


    He did not understand its name as the Commoners only consumed processed food. Chunks of pure meat never reach their tes.


    "Barbecue," Damian said.


    Along with the aroma, creeping inside the foyer was a thick smoke filling the atmosphere, and heat came along with it.


    "How do you know about barbecue, Damian?" Lance asked.


    "The outsiders farmed livestock beyond the walls. I haven¡¯t seen one livestock. maybe they are situated inside the Trench. I am not really sure." Damian answered. "And the easiest way to cook livestock is a way of grilling them against fire or heat."


    As they proceeded after the foyer, an array of widespread-sized casseroles lined up on the other side managed by Commoners who professionally stirred them.


    Some had their mes reaching the ceiling but never creating idental fire. The high-med cooking was isted with transparent ss and an efficient smoke exhaust fan pulled the wafts of mes right above the ceiling.


    To the cooks, the kitchen seemed mundane to them. But to Lance, it was way beyond hisprehension. In all his life, he never witnessed such music and noise rhythmically synergized. The boiling liquid in onerge casserole seemed to sound like miniature drums, harmonizing well with the sizzling cooking oil on the other side.


    Not one of the various cooks had given a slight second to look at them. They seemed to care less about the egress and ingress of people inside the kitchen, only the ones they were tasked with.


    Commoners. ves.


    Typically, the two terms go well in this society.


    They were busy, and eventful, which did not match the only four echelon customers in the restaurant from where they came in.


    A whole ughtered carcass, seemingly that of a cow, stood upright with hooks mounted on the ceiling and walls inside an open chamber, holding the cow to a standing position. Two cooks rotated around the carcass in a synchronized manner with theirser-like blowtorches.


    Or they weresers.


    The mobile torches charred the skin to a golden brown, and smoke emerged from the mes¡¯ wrath. After the cooks stepped out, the chamber suddenly closed, enclosing the carcass to a circr transparent casket and the metallic tubes emerged at all sides.


    The tubes hissed and a stream of greenish and yellowish fumes bathed the carcass inside the chamber. As the fumes subsided, they were exhausted out from the chamber and into the vents.


    The cow¡¯s carcass was now multi-colored as if painted with yellow and green.


    Fume residues from the chamber seeped into the small crevices of the casket cover, and created famished stomachs.


    The casing opened and the two cooks charred the carcass again, the same harmonious process, with their blow torches.


    It was immensely aromatic that Lance¡¯s stomach growled, discernable to Damian. He saw Damian ce his palm on his abdomen, his face seemed to salivate towards the scenery.


    "Ready for chopping," The cook called as the carcass¡¯ skin became yellowish or greenish brown. It looked like shit but the fragrance defined it otherwise.


    "They call it the marination," Damian mused.


    ¡¯Efficient way of marination. Probably an invention,¡¯ Lance thought.


    Lance and Damian ambled the heaving cooks and swam through an arid atmosphere of aromatic delight. But their famished stomachs were immediately reced by disgust.


    On the opposite side of the chaotic array of cooks in front of delectable dishes, from the looks of it, ced a row of cages and aquariums. And within these cages and aquariums housed different animals, all were alive.


    No. They were not animals. They were Abominants.


    Uncontrobly, Lance vomited on the far side away from the cooks.


    An Abominated rabbit heaved the cages. They don¡¯t move much, probably drugged, as these abominated rabbits create high-pitched screams. Could be deafening.


    They had dark hues on their fur but their ears were way too pointy than normal. Pointy but deaf.


    They seemed unabominated creatures as they just cowered to the cage¡¯s corner. However, as Lance drew closer, surpassing the dim lights¡¯ deceptiveness, their fur¡¯s color mixture was way too stylistic rather than mundane like an abstract painting.


    What made him vomit were not the rabid creatures that cowered in cages, it was the aquariums.


    At first nce, these colossal aquariums only stored tuna, marlin, or any other farmable fish obscured by the overproduction of water bubbles.


    ¡¯The bubbles served as oxygen for the fishes inside to retain freshness,¡¯ Lance thought.


    But inside the aquariums were grotesquebinations of octopuses and sharks. Half of their bodies were sharks from head to its belly but their tail fins were reced by Octopus tentacles.


    Upon ncing at one of them, it was not appalling enough for one to vomit. What made the school of abominated sharks a horrendous site, were the tentacles bound each other forming into clusters like microbial spores.


    Secreting ck ooze as octopuses do. These sharks could not swim freely within the expanse of their habitat. They were just imprisoned by one another as if their tentacles had minds of their own. Sharks supposedly were fearsome sea beasts, fast swimmers, and aggressive. But they looked pitiful, dormant, and docile.


    "Iing!" One cook holding arge dish caught their attention, opened the far-end swing door and loud music reverberated inside the kitchen. The utensils nked with each other as if music had a physical form.


    "That exins," Damian reacted as an exploding bass invaded the eventful kitchen. "Rave party!"


    Disregarding the loud music, Lance regained hisposure.


    "We should go, Damian," Lance requested and they turned to a flight of stairs. They were greeted sarcastically by another bodyguard before the door.


    Fortunately, they were led in without further question.


    The establishment was full of surprises. On their way in, Rigor sufficed the surprise, and as they went inside the restaurant, the pink cloud surprised them, and finally the kitchen with the colossal-sized aquarium almost consuming one side of the building.


    To Lance¡¯s disbelief, the room did not match what was outside.


    The room had a tranquil vibe, carpets filled the floors, and had a minimalistic design. The chandelier at the center of the room though, held diamonds and gold that intensely provided illumination.


    However, the room¡¯s interior design did not give a slight inclination for the guests, it was the man who sat behind an obsidian table.


    An uninviting aura emanated from the person in the ck suit.


    ¡¯ck and white, remember that,¡¯ Lance thought as the Bartender had reminded him twice.


    But what it means was unclear.

 Chapter 28: Jonaz

    "Are you from the GLDs?" The man behind theminated Obsidian table asked. A calm voice greeted them. And the beholder of such a voice was apparently the boss of these establishments.


    "Mr. Jonaz?" Lance asked. He stood behind Damian as thetter portrayed overprotectiveness towards the boy. Luckily, the man was just alone inside the room.


    "Yes. You did not answer my question," the man retorted. "Or you do not understand the meaning of GLDs. Governing Laws Department?""


    Lance shook his head. He was perturbed too about the question as if the man expected a different group.


    "Those feckers," The man pushed himself away from the table and his stool glided a bit, revealing his overalls to his visitors. "Who are you, then?" His voice raised to anger.


    The man hauled himself up with utter exasperation. He wore his white, flowered, silky overalls and had these streaks of luminous fine lines that bordered his clothes¡¯ design. His chest buttons were unclosed revealing trimmed chest hairs just below his golden pendant.


    Expensive stuff.


    He had no shades on him, only his blue piercing eyes and curly unkempt hair would be two distinctive descriptions of the man.


    "If you are not from the GLDs, then who are you?" The man turned towards the rear wall and took out one of his disyed swords.


    It was a medieval sword ced on top of a Samurai sword.


    Clearly, the sword was heavy as he pulled it with both hands.


    "Speak now or else receive my wrath!" The man groaned in utter annoyance. His ears turned red and his face was fuming with rage.


    Damian started to clench his fist. He had no gun and clearly expected a fist fight.


    "Wee looking for Jonaz. We are here for a business proposal," Lance answered as he emerged forward from his towering partner. He thought that Damian¡¯s presence could be provoking sometimes, especially to a group of criminals.


    He was a soldier. He was meant to be intimidating.


    Lance had to diffuse the situation immediately or else their efforts woulde to waste.


    "Ha!" The man swayed his sword left and right, however, the sword¡¯s weight almost carried his body. He took deep breaths and awkwardly ced the sword on the obsidian table. It thumped hard against theminated Obsidian shell.


    "I know who you are, silly!" The man spoke. "And yes, I am Jonaz of Jonaz Enterprises." He finally smiled, and the grunting expression had suddenly vanished.


    Rather a surging interest emanated from Jonaz. It was inexplicable for a man who could transform his emotions in a split second.


    "Fascinating is it not?" Jonaz asked, having unblinking stares at the kid.


    Lance was dumbfounded with the question. Was the question referred to the Obsidian table, or the medieval sword?


    "It¡¯s rare-level material," Lance answered. Both, the sword and the obsidian shell were rare-level materials.


    "Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha." Jonaz¡¯sugh seemed to be unceasing, his arms clutching his abdomen. "What rare level materials?" He said as ticklish humor had subsided.


    Lanceughed softly and Damian too at his back. But he did not answer at that. He, too, was confused.


    "I am not referring to these," Jonaz smiled. "I mean, my acting, silly!"


    "Bravo, Mr. Jonaz, Bravo," Damian pped from behind.


    Jonaz showed a curt bow from the delighted soldier at the back. Lance knew that Damian was being sarcastic but it seemed that he saved their asses.


    "I am always amused with theatric arts down at the Whitefields, and afterward, I will indulge in their after-parties in Hoovertown Street. Wild bunch they are!"


    Lance had no clue about the ces that Jonaz mentioned.


    "There, even though I am always drunk in these after-parties with the actresses. My business is still runnin¡¯. Networking never stops. I always dealt with the Bar owners of my Pink Cloud merch, have you tried one?"


    Lance nodded but he was not sure if getting high without consent counts.


    "Really? Yah like it? 300 units per bottle. Fair price, don¡¯t ya think?"


    "I am not sure if it¡¯s a fair price," Lance responded meekly.


    Jonaz smirked at the site of the boy.


    "Sit down, the two of you. You seemed so stressed," Jonaz offered two seats adjacent to his table. Jonaz sat too, back to his swivel chair.


    "You are Lance from Steelpoint. Roger told me that you areing," Jonaz mused. "He said that you have an important business proposal. As you can see, I am a businessman. Despite what Roger told you, I am a pure-blooded businessman. Not some shady street thug."


    Jonaz was hard to read. The bartender told him about ck and White. However, the guy in front of him was far from the definition.


    "Right you are, Mr. Jonaz," Lance responded. "I came to offer you my¡­"


    "Obsidian armor?" The boss interjected, "I don¡¯t need such a thing. I don¡¯t deal with furniture materials."


    "See this?" Jonaz tapped his Obsidian table top. It wasrge, probably harvested from the Scorpion¡¯s back. "It is expensive but the market is slow right now. And I don¡¯t like slow. I like fast."


    Jonaz slouched against his seat, sighed heavily, and exhaled so discernably that he looked bored."


    Lance was worried.


    "Zelkians!" Lance said. That caught his attention again. His expression immediately glowed.


    "Ooh, illegal stuff. My kind of stuff. Zelkians you say? It¡¯s so happened that I have nada inventory!"


    "Perfect, I have a supply of Zelkians." Lance¡¯s voice seemed exhrated. But he knew it shouldn¡¯t be the case.


    Damian took out the contents of his knapsack. It was a bundle of metals, at first nce. Damian pushed a button concealed at the side, it clicked, and the casing opened like a flower bloomed. All sides of them unsped and revealed a cage.


    The cage held a week-old Zelkian. It curtly purred.


    Carefully, Damian ced the cage on top of the Obsidian table.


    Lance and Damian uttered no words right after. The Zelkian on the other hand, was moving in circles.


    "Straight to the point. No pitch. No flowery words. I like that!" His fingers began to tap against the medieval sword thaty t on theminated table. His eyes trained on the baby Zelkian.


    "Do you have a forecast?" Lance asked. It was a business terminology that only the educated knew. A forecast involves certainputations to arrive at a close urate value.


    A forecast was the basis for the suppliers to deliver a certain quantity in a given lead time. For other business owners, if there was ack ofputation, the supply would flood storages, thus posing a different kind of predicament.


    Also considering some other factors such as the shelf life of the merchandise or the developmental life of the living merchandise, should all be considered in arriving at a forecasted quantity.


    As Lance evaluated, the enterprise boss could have done his calctions, or best with identifying forecasts. It exined the wide aquarium that filled a quarter of the establishment¡¯s wall.


    His shark octopus Abominants¡¯ demand could be high, hence, he stored clusters of them.


    "I like that, kid. Straight to the point!" Jonaz smiled. "Let¡¯s sidetracked a bit. If you would like to know how I got this far, kid, I¡¯ll exin it to you."


    Lance only nodded.


    "My business is your business," the businessman continued. He had this way of moving his arms as he gathered his thoughts for a speech. It was inviting in a way. "If your business fails to deliver, then I also fail to deliver. Therefore, loss of opportunity. And reputation is everything in Enve, kiddo."


    "It took me years to build my reputation, and it will take only a second for it to be destroyed. So, kid, when I tell you that I can sell Zelkians, I can sell them. But if you don¡¯t meet our agreed forecast, then, we will have a problem. If you heard my name in the streets, I am not the one you would go against, kiddo."


    "For me, trust is everything," He emphasized the word trust. "At first nce, I do not trust the two of you. But I guarantee you, if I will be your partner in this endeavor, you will enjoy the spoils of your currency."


    "How much do you pay for my Zelkians?" Lance asked. He had a price in mind, 120 units each. But he anticipated it to be lower as the Unitech shades ck market advertisement also suggested 120 units each.


    This would be apromise.


    "Wrong question, kid," Jonazughed, the unceasing kind. "If youe here for business, you should be the one offering the price. You¡¯re probably wondering why, but seasoned business owners know the market, know the demand, and most especially could risk high prices."


    "Dictate your price first as you know your business. Don¡¯t let some schmuck dictate them for you. You could lose your business as youpromise margins. Especially what you¡¯re offering is a golden resource."


    "Thanks for the advice," Lance responded, "I will price my Zelkians for 120 units each."


    "Atta boy!" Jonaz smiled. But the negotiation only had begun. "Well, the forecast, kiddo, is a different story."

 Chapter 29: Jonaz 2

    "A business is like a tree. In the first few days or weeks, it will need your fullest attention; watering it, cultivating its soil, providing fertilizers, and more. But when the tree grows to its mature state, it can live without your presence anymore. It can bear fruit for you or provide shade.


    So in a business, patience is a virtue. And hard work is a must."


    - Erik Berkley


    ***


    "Ok, what¡¯s your number?" Lance asked, about the forecast.


    "Hmm," Jonaz smiled, his teeth retainers glimmered against the penlights. "20 Zelkians! That¡¯s per month, kid."


    Lance had only a farm capacity of 12 Zelkians per month, and promising 20 Zelkians would ensue disagreeable terms. And the Mafia don¡¯t like disagreements.


    There was silence. Lance calcted but had not uttered a word for a few awkward moments.


    "That¡¯s 240 Zelkians per calendar year, kiddo," Jonaz sped both hands close to his chest. "Remember what I told you about the consequences, kid, of any undelivered orders."


    "Think this through, kid," Damian said, his voice with a hint of utter concern.


    "16 per month?" Lance asked.


    "Oh, poor you. You arefortable with 16. Well, I am not. It¡¯s either a deal or no deal for me, kiddo," Jonaz mused.


    Then Lance understood what the Bartender reminded him, ¡¯ck and white¡¯.


    "Remember, kid," Jonaz released a deep sigh. His elbows were ced on top of the table and leaned toward Lance. His witty humor had departed from his expression and only seriousness remained.


    "Reputation is everything for Jonaz Enterprises." The boss mused. "It¡¯s either I can deliver or not. I would rather be the former to preserve my name, my precious reputation. I squandered away tens of thousands of units for an investment gone bad with Valentyne. Bless his poor soul."


    Lane knew the name. Vice Governor Valentyne was murdered and the Media falsely used the rebels as they printed it in the headlines. Probably, the Mafia killed him.


    "You heard the news, right? So unfortunate." Jonaz taunted. He shook his head. Lance always was confused if the boss was acting or authentic.


    "Yes," Lance said, interjecting before Jonaz could continue.


    "Yes, what?" Jonaz rified.


    "Yes, I am good with 20 Zelkians." Lance finally said. It¡¯s a gamble. But weighing his options, only the ck marketers offered Zelkians to the Inders. And there was no other way to bypass Jonaz Enterprises for such merchandise.


    "Are you sure, kid?" Damian asked. He was not sure at all.


    "I am sure, Damian," Lance responded.


    "Ok. Then, it¡¯s a done deal for me," Jonaz smiled. "You are a gambler, kid. I can see it in you. You were like me when I was young. A gambler, hoping for the Universe to assist me in achieving my dreams."


    But Lance knew it was not the case. He could provide 12 Zelkians on his current farm. 16 Zelkians could be achievable granting another Breeder would be born in the current natal batch. But a solution lingered inside his mind, oblivious to Damian. Jonaz probably won¡¯t care how, as long Lance would deliver at his end of the bargain.


    "Great!" Jonaz eximed. He pped once. "Then, let¡¯s proceed with regtions."


    "Regtions?" Lance asked, having not anticipated about regtions in this exchange.


    "Yes, GLD regtions. GLD-EU or the GLD extension Units, sector-based regtors. Bloomforge is different from other sectors. Business is more stringent here. They will be needing this 2304 Tax schemes nowadays. Valentyne, bless his soul.


    He established the Order of 2304. Now, I am in a microscope, Lance. And I can¡¯t feck this up. I hated those fat butt lickers!"


    Lance knew about the border licenses and his scrapper registrations. These were issued by Sectoral Extension Units governed by the GLDs.


    "So you need me to have a 2304?" Lance asked. He assumed that it was a requirement for Jonaz Enterprises to legitimize their books.


    "But what we do here is an illegal merch," Lance added.


    "Yes. Yes. Zelkians are illegal. But I must cover our transaction with legal trades as to mask the proceeds."


    Lance was perturbed with how Jonaz processed his thinking. It was just a simple exchange of ck market merch. He had missed something.


    But what?


    "You probably hadn¡¯t heard the term yet, kid," Jonaz interrupted Lance¡¯s thoughts. "Laundering."


    "Let me exin," Jonaz said, "I can¡¯t run my other legitimate businesses with a dirty currency. Now what you are dealing with here is sure dirty currency as you are offering ck market merch. The books will tell me that I am investing in another business, for example, my restaurant business expansion, using Zelkian trade. GLD EU would kill my businesses."


    Jonaz was smart. He had a restaurant business at one end and the opposite side of the establishment was his Rave Party Bar. Two separate businesses, however, used one kitchen with the same workforce.


    Efficiency.


    And with the same kitchen, probably farming Abominants. He must have deep pockets to bribe the inspectors to bypass kitchen inspections.


    "If you don¡¯t have a 2304, Jonaz Enterprises will fixed it for ya!" Jonaz offered.


    "How?" Lance asked.


    "Just provide me your legitimate license, your scrapper reg, could be. Then my ountants will process it in EU office. Then we can proceed as agreed."


    Lance heard about fixers. It was an easy but illegal way of gaining legitimate documents from regting bodies such as scientist-level registrations, border licenses, Merchant registrations, and more. The Sectoral Extension Units processed these tedious documents and by fixing, one would avoid longevities.


    "What¡¯s the catch?" Lance asked.


    "1000 units. Of course. Themon trade for fixing."


    Dealing with Jonaz was like ying with chess. The opponent would always anticipate the yer¡¯s move. In their case, Lance was at the losing end. His pieces, his wits, were already consumed to the fullest. He yed in a different world now with different rules.


    A 1000 units was not a sound deal of just fixing a document. But he could not process it on his own. GLDs would require a financial audit that the applicant had sufficient liquidity to support the business. If approved, there will be another set of inspections or another way of milking business owners.


    Power trips.


    He had a little over 2000 units in his ount but a factor of it (800 units) was a downpayment for his Tyllrium trade in Axiom, surmounting to 1600 units.


    "Is it a deal, kid?" Jonaz extended his right arm for a handshake. However, Lance hesitated to shake the dealer¡¯s hand.


    "How would I know that you are good for it?" The same question he asked Damian when he transacted for a Specialist fee. Damian smiled at that.


    "Witty. Witty. I like that." Jonaz retracted his hand and pped once again. "That¡¯s the right question, kid! You are learning now, aren¡¯t you?"


    "To answer your question," Jonaz continued, "I can offer you a 50% downpayment for the Fixing."


    "30%," Lance renegotiated.


    Jonaz¡¯s face brightened like a summer sun. Gleaming retainers showed as Jonaz smiled. He extended his right hand again for a handshake attempt.


    "Let¡¯s do the old-school seal-the-deal, Mr. Lance of Steelpoint," Jonaz mused.


    Lance sped it and shook hard.


    "Deal, kid!" Jonaz was exhrated. "Now, unto thest agenda at hand." They released the handshake. "Let¡¯s make this legitimate on paper, shall we? Zelkians are illegal so we will mask out transactions with legal merch. And you should have this kind of merch for documentation purposes, ya know the drill. These regtors always lookin¡¯ for evidence."


    "Tyllrium. We can make my Tyllrium business a front for our Zelkian deal."


    Another business opportunity presents itself. It would also mean another opportunity to earn more units.

 Chapter 30: Roflo

    The water inside the transparent aquarium vibrated as Lance tapped the ss. His naked eye could not see the vibrations, only the clusters of polluted particles that floated in volumes as they danced against the reverberations made by his finger.


    He was worried that his aquarium would leak on the sents he used as he connected the corners of a rectangr ss. But Jasper had made an integrity scan in a given frequency until he was sure that it would not copse.


    The widespread tank was enclosed all around except for its top.


    He wished there would be fish swimming around the lonely tank, but the idea dissipated instantly as the pollution filled the water.


    ¡¯It would surely die.¡¯ Lance sighed.


    Fishes were a scant resource anyway. There were oceans before, wider than thends, but now, all held no living creatures that were not abominated. If thend creatures had grotesque mutations, however, the sea animals were worse.


    He had seen one recently, the shark mixed with octopus. His stomach churned upon the thought of it.


    The timer of his clock was set again. He adjusted its rm to another half-hour.


    ¡¯That should be it.¡¯ As Lance calcted. He took out the robotic floater, round and waterproofed, from the tank and pressed a button retracting the thread-like tentacles back to the round casing. As the tentacles disappeared, clumps of pollution were collected and drained to his washing sink.


    20 liters of water inside the aquarium mixed with 80% pollutants. Lance poured a pail full of liquid waste. He called it the FOG ¨C Food, Oil, and Grease.


    The FOG samples were easy to collect. It was 30% mud, 30% chopped food waste, and 40% urine. His own urine.


    "Combining FOG in the water tank,prising 80% of the clean water volume," he said in the record.


    "Only 10% of pollution reached the bottom, 90% FOG samples floated from midrange to the water surface," he said as the dispensed FOG slowly crept inside the tank, filling the water with brownish grease.


    "Robotic Floater, Trial number 10. Adjusting tentacle length to 40%," Lance said.


    "Jasper, monitor collection rate will ya!" Lancemanded.


    "Copy on that master," Jasper said.


    "cing Invention, Robotic Floater Pollution Collector, prototype 5, in three, two, one," Lance said and ced his prototype on top of the water. The round metallic casing whirred minute noises as the tentacles emerged from its bottom.


    "Jasper, status," Lancemanded.


    "Master, Tentacle length at 42%," Jasper reported.


    At 42% with a setting range of 40%, and a 2% error threshold was within the expected margin of error. The thread-like tentacles were hard to control its length.


    "Progress report, Jasper, every five minutes," Lance said.


    Lance inspected the prototype as it floated on the water¡¯s surface and its 40 strands of tentacles which weren¡¯t perceptible at first, spread at the expanse of the water tank. It was as if the tentacles were alive, dancing together with the flow of water, waving like that of seaweed or the tentacles of jellyfish.


    Then for a few seconds, the FOG particles started to attract towards the tentacles. His previous trials were sorts of sessful but he wanted desirable and impactful results.


    He needs to clean the water with his invention at least close to 98%. But his previous trials were way below 70%. Progressing at best, as he assessed.


    Tweaks were made to the device, adjusting the length of tentacles, the volume of attractants that flowed in minuscule tubes, and the power consumed by the robot itself.


    "It needs a better battery," The prototype¡¯s life was only up to an hour and he would charge again to proceed with the experimental trials.


    A beeping LED light was discernable.


    Lance retreated to his massage chair. He sumbed to his rest. He was mentally stressed. The round casing was not even smooth enough. He scoffed at that. He managed to scrap the round casing from service robots in a scrap yard tier 1.


    ¡¯They said there are better scrapponents in scrap yard tier 2,¡¯ Lance thought, imagining that his prototype would be more emphasized in terms of form.


    Luckily, he had his fabrication table, with its robotic arms and precision tools. He was able to arrive at his desired fabrications even close to microscopic level sizes, such as the tentacles.


    "Jasper, time?" Lance said.


    "4 minutes, Master. Pollution progress is about 15%." Jasper reported.


    "Really now?" He was right with the modifications. The pollution collection was way better than the previous trials. "Simte absorption level to 30 minutes."


    "Approximately 92%, Master."


    92% was a good number. If hisponents were better materials, it would arrive at his desired 100% for only a few trials.


    ¡¯Maybe it¡¯s best to upgrade to Scrapper 2,¡¯ He yawned. He felt his eyelids were getting heavier as he continued his gaze upon the progressing trial.


    Then he remembered his newfound crew. The Zelkians were now marketable, only 12 of them and the breeders were on their way to another natal batch.


    It was ready for pickup. Logistics was a challenge for his ck-market merchandise. The Sectoral borders were rigorous in their inspections recently. Luckily, Jonaz Enterprises handled Garbage Collection Trucks, covering a major segment of the market.


    As he thought, Jonaz was a brilliant illegal businessman. His Garbage Collection trucks fronted a legitimate service provider business, however, concealing the illegal merch below the trash.


    But the Zelkians won¡¯t be picked up in the rebel camp to maintain the camp¡¯s location secrecy. The Zelkians will be delivered to a location amenable to the Garbage truck¡¯s pick-up routes.


    Damian was badgering him about theck of Zelkian supply to Jonaz Enterprises and would dissolve the deal. Jonaz needed 20 Zelkians at the end of the month, and on the 3rd week, he had 12 marketable Zelkains. The 8 Zelkains would be supplied by the Axiom Trench Hunters and would be hauled together with the Tyllrium truck.


    He remembered that Axiom Trench merchants could supply 30 Zelkians in a month. That was his contingent n, Axiom Trench Merchants. But it would entail lesser margins if they were directly tradedpared to his farming scheme.


    However, it was way better than going against Jonaz Enterprises¡¯ dealings. He remembered how Jonaz emphasized his reputation and all. Therefore, the first delivery should be perfect.


    "Jasper, calcte earnings for the end of the month," Lance asked.


    _______________________________________


    Net Profit Tyllrium Trade to Grebert: 500 units (Received)


    Forecasted Net Profit for Zelkian to Jonas: 1,100 units (Awaiting payment)


    Recent transactions: 300 units (payment for fixer)


    Recent transactions: 200 units (Groceries)


    Total Currency: 1,090 units


    ________________________________________


    It seemed right. Lance recalcted with his mind. It was urate. He already paid Damian his specialist fee, of 500 units. Joe too, with his Farm management fee of 100 units. George had his fair share, 15 units a piece of Tyllrium, and the Caretaker was paid as well.


    At the end of the month, after he received a total of 2200 units, deducted his remaining 70% of the Fixing rate which a deal he had to fulfill, would elevate his status almost to a mid-sser.


    "Master, 15 minutes at 47% collection rate," Jasper prompted.


    ¡¯It went as nned. Probably would reach up to 94% clean water,¡¯ Lance thought.


    "As protocol suggests, Master. You will drink the water after we can call the trial a sess," Jasper reminded.


    Lance set the challenge. He knew that only a 6% rate of pollution left in the water would be eptable to his bodily system.


    After 30 minutes passed, the clustered pollution seemed to attract towards the 40 strands of tentacles. The forms and lengths of the tentacles were more perceptible now as the brown FOGs mped together.


    The FOGs seemed to be maized by the Floaters¡¯ tentacles, as he desired.


    ¡¯Job well done,¡¯ Lance tapped himself.


    He then hauled himself up from a sumbing rest, then activated a switch. The round Robotic casing hissed again and released an anti-microbial mist into the water.


    "Pollution at 6% and microorganism content at 0%," Jasper scanned. "It¡¯s time to drink, master."


    Lance did not listen to the AI¡¯s reminder. He went back to his chair after a satisfying sigh.


    Everything went well, he presumed. The businesses and the invention. The question remains, for his 2200 units at the end of the month, was it the perfect time to augment oneself? Or to save another month to acquire the Energy elerator for 3000 units?


    The stress seemed to cloud his judgment.


    "Master, may you drink the sample now," Jasper reminded again.


    "Jasper, leave me at peace will ya!" the exhausted kidmanded.


    For a few dull moments, he slept.


    Invention number two ¨C Roflo Water Pollution Collector.

 Chapter 31: ShowerSmart

    Water trickled down his spine as the shower head burst to his scalp. He felt the coolness of the water, destressing his body and refreshing his mind in the process.


    He adjusted the shower knob to high pressure and the showerhead burst again, whistling, profusely this time that he felt a massaging weight from scalp to nape.


    It was so refreshing. Even in the cabin, daily showering was a luxury pleasured by a few.


    He craned his head, his face facing the showerhead, and the sensation of a gently massaging force experienced the pressure against his forehead, then to his cheeks.


    Opening his mouth to just gargle a little bit of bath water was a bad idea. He then remembered that even in showers, the water was recycled through an in-house filtration system.


    Luckily, a scientist, it was an Electric Tier as far he could remember, patented a mobile filtration systempatible with homes to recycle shower water.


    This was better than using the water from WWMDs, Lance thought. Appalling to even step in the shower room just the thought of wastewater being used in dishwashing and bathrooms. But not everyone knew it, especially about the drinking water.


    Grebert told him, "20% of wastewater goes into Potable tanks, filtered again. Series of chambers, filtration pads, and more. Hard to maintain." Lance remembered.


    However, the residences that installed the filtration systems had to pay additional power fees for the consumption of electricity for the filtration.


    The project was called ShowerSmart.


    It was a brilliant feat. ShowerSmart contributed great help to reduce volume consumption from the WWMDs for residential use of water. The Awards Committee had known the predicament, discreetly and, hence, expedited the project to its full fruition.


    Factory production was expedited. Design patent processing, expedited. Marketing to the masses, expedited.


    High-Echelons had their reservations already even though factories were still procuring raw materials for production. It flooded the inte like wildfire, however failed to reach themoner sectors.


    They don¡¯t understand why and showering was not a necessity to them anymore. It wastes resources and increases water bills. Despite that, Lance installed his ShowerSmart, months after it was released.


    He wondered how many units the inventor earned. Only a couple of thousand units maybe, despite the millions earned by the Corporation and the Government.


    It was unfair to the inventor. An invention prototype was the key to a newfound discovery. Unfortunately, the Media blinded the inventor with fame. However, fattening the pockets more to the wealthy and politicians.


    The Government and the Corporation were earning millions, even Lance could not imagine.


    His mind raced as his head was cooled by the shower. He felt different every time he was bathed with water. His mind always shifted to a state, even though rxed, however to its optimal function. A cognitive overhaul perhaps. His invention ideas woulde permeating his thoughts even unsolvable predicaments during the progress of his projects would materialize during this state.


    Astoundingly, all this was just for a shower.


    Therefore, it was the main reason that he showered every day, disregarding the incremental power bills.


    It must be the nerve endings of the scalp that triggered an optimal brain function during the shower, he thought. Such study of psychology was lost together with the Lost Engineers.


    RoFlo, his Robotic Floating Pollution Collector, came to his mind. He squinted through the transparent ss that squared his shower room, to the room adjacent to the dining table, his invention space.


    A fish tank with his Roflo on top of the water captured his vision.


    Depending on how the Awards Committee would see it during his project defense, he could earn about 2000 units at most. His Water dispenser Bioscanner awarded him 1200 units.


    It was not as impactful as the ShowerSmart but his RoFlo was a game-changer.


    Since his first patented invention did not have much impact on the hidden predicaments of the Corporation, it only prevented the pilferage of stored drinking water in residences, thus it was not expedited and did not touch the mainstream Media.


    They cared less about the Citizens, especially the low-lifers.


    ¡¯This could be big,¡¯ Lance smiled upon the thought of his RoFlo invention but was apprehensive at the same time.


    If he could amend the byws created by the GLDs for the Awards Committee, it would serve best the inventors and less the business owners that exploited the brains that created the invention.


    As he saw it, the Corporation was more driven to fill its pockets with currency rather than motivating Scientists to augment themselves and motivate innovations.


    He turned off the shower.


    The ideas did note, this time. It was remorse. It¡¯s been like this for a few days, or weeks, he can¡¯t remember. However, he was happy to at least aplish his second invention.


    ¡¯I had to prepare my defense. This could help the water supply,¡¯ Lance thought.


    A lot of Commoners died of thirstst year because of the shortage. Majorly, what contributed to the water shortage was the inefficiency of WWMD wastewater filtration.


    His Tyllrium came in handy with the predicament. But it won¡¯t save another shortage in the future. It could probably dy as he estimated. But with the current system, death by thirst would be inevitable.


    Lance cursed in his mind.


    His Roflo could be the key.


    He pressed a button and nozzles from corners of the shower room hissed dispensing high-pressured air this time. Along with the scented powder he just refilled the scent chambers.


    Today, I will be a Scrapper 2." He told himself.


    "Today is the day, Jasper!" Lance said as he put on his clothes.


    "Your Scrapper 2 registration, Master?" Jasper rified. Sometimes the AI would be confused about their schedules as Lance always amended them. "Or was it the first Zelkian pick-up by Jonaz Enterprises?"


    "Hmm. Registration." He filled his knapsack with his Cloud Archive, a tablet where one could ess all legitimate documents, identifications, and other pertaining documents of his citizenship, most importantly his approved invention patent - bioscanner.


    For one to be promoted to a higher Scientist Level, the Scientist should provide one patented invention. The Cloud Archive not only would store the required documents, it would also restrict the storage of fake documents.


    "What about your, Laser ded Knife?" Jasper asked as Lance was ready to head out of the Cabin.


    "I think the Mafia would leave me be for this time, Jasper. Remember, we will have our first-ever Zelkian delivery tomorrow." Lance responded.


    ***


    ¡¯Science Aspirants Registration Service¡¯ Lance read the embossed golden signboard at the side of the colossal-sized door. ¡¯SARS¡¯


    It was the third time he visited the ce, KroMagnon Sector, adjacent to Bloomforge Enve. First, he visited SARS because he wanted to be educated on how to register himself to be a Scientist.


    There were free courses, lucky for Lance. He had no Units to enroll in any significant courses. But the free courses were just for lowlifers like him. He had to choose amongst the three;


    Industrial Technology 101


    Basics of Mechanical, Electrical, and Electronic Components.


    Waste Management 101


    At his first nce upon the choices, they seemed to elevate oneself to the next level of society, to be called ¡¯Educated¡¯. To be among the Mid-ssers and High-ssers.


    But he was greatly mistaken.


    These courses were so basic that passing them would bepatible for a Factory worker, Scrapper Scientist, or WWMDs Operators in wastewater facilities.


    However, Lance took them all. Even though he was only required one course to apply for a Scientist Scrapper 1.


    His second visit was when he registered himself as Scrapper 1 as soon as he finished the three courses.


    Then, his third visit was his intent to register to be a Scrapper 2.


    ¡¯This is the day!

 Chapter 32: SARS

    Science Aspirants Registration Service (SARS), was an impractical building. Lance always hated the site of it. Reinforced doors, protrudingrge beams from the sides, ted withminated bs of concrete, and a military-grade locking system.


    It had these impervious materials used in the base of the building but only supported two floors.


    A total waste of materials.


    SARS building could be construed as a bunker during the Nuclear World War. It fits the description perfectly. It had no windows, was rectangr sized, and was rigid-looking. It was elevated though from the ground but only five steps of stairs.


    ¡¯It must have an underground basement or something,¡¯ Lance thought as he strolled upon the tiled external steps, manicured by fine-formed stones.


    Lance spat upon the site of it.


    Impractical use of materials!


    Frugality was the quality he knew best. The best quality materials fit for its use. However, the SARS building was screaming for the opposite.


    If it was a human being, it is ostentatious.


    The colossal doors made of reinforced steel, opened as the digital scanner on its side identified the holographic ID on his wrist.


    ¡¯Lance Berkley, Scrapper 1,¡¯ an AI¡¯s voice emerged as his face appeared on the digital disy.


    ¡¯Scrapper 1 no more,¡¯ Lance thought.


    A fragrant cool air crept through the agape door as it gradually opened. Lance felt it on his shins. Despite the windowless structure, the interior was well-lighted, with counters at the far end and intimidating-looking individuals behind the metallic desks.


    The Deskers, office-based staff, were all mid-ssers that underwent paid education.


    There were a lot of Science aspirants, though, like himself heaving the halls. Mid-ssers, high-ssers, andmoners alike mixed in the crowd having their own agenda.


    But even with this crowd, the Mid and High-ssers stood out even one would not stare at them for a long time. The jewelry, the clothes, the Unitech shades, and the oversized headphones defined their social ss.


    Today, he wore his signature jeans and pocketed jacket.


    The site gave him the creeps, though. ¡¯Dejavu¡¯, Lance thought. The coolness of the airconditioned air was intensified. The fragrance too contributed to his shyness.


    He saw younger ones, younger than him about twelve to fourteen years old, checking options on a digital advertisement monitor on the wide wall on the left.


    "Free courses for Starters¡­" The digital disy monitor announced in a loop. It showed the same three courses as years before his registration. Well, the onlookers were excited though.


    He remembered that he enrolled in three courses consecutively as he was unsure of the destiny he would take. But it was put to rity before his father passed.


    Directly, he ambled through the random clusters of Aspirants in the halls. The hostility of the mid and upper-ssers seemed to be docile in these halls, surprisingly.


    He took out his Cloud Archive from his knapsack and ten Currency Cards, the size of baseball cards but with a digital disy showing the actual currency in its storage drive. The same ones he used in the Market with Roger.


    SARS, as protocol, did not use online transfers to maintain integrity and prevent online currency counterfeiting. The Currency cards, like the Cloud Archive, were fake proof.


    Lance ambled behind the desk that said ¡¯Junior Assessor, Mari¡¯, A Desker that handled the registrations.


    He ced the Cloud Archive and Currency Card on the ss desk. The desks were of stark arrangements, no paper, and pencil present as no trees were farmed in that matter.


    All trees are dead in Axe Central City.


    There were only Touch Tabs with different names on them stacked behind them. The Assessor, Mari, was clearly a Mid-sser. She wore the same clothes as them, silky, bearing no pockets, and she had a few jewels on her.


    She had a cell phone on her side. Cell phones, technically, could be called wireless digital telephones. Because these don¡¯t use the Electromaic Spectrum Wavelength like the ones used before the Nuclear World War.


    The Electromaic Spectrum channels were not practical to use during this age. The atmospheric pressure had abnormal variations that introduced so much noise and interference in these wavelengths. Such devices using the typical channel were things of the past.


    The Corporation used underground fiber optic lines, instead, connected to low bandwidth towers to be able to link the users of the cell phones.


    The Inventors called these devices ¨C OptiComs. But others called them cell phones, still.


    These kinds of gadgets were prohibited for public use and were utilized for approved Corporation and Government positions, especially for the police. Vague reasons were broadcasted for these gadgets¡¯ public use and one of them, mentioned so repeatedly, was the reason for Safety.


    "Howdy, Mari!" Lance greeted.


    "Don¡¯t howdy me! You are not a cowboy," Mari red a fiery nce.


    Lance knew Mari but Mari probably did not remember him. Mari was the same assessor who registered him being a Scrapper 1. And her mean approach towards the Lowlifer Aspirant was expected as all Mid-ssers do towards the Commoners.


    "Ok, good day!" Lance changed his greeting with the same pitched voice as the first.


    Lance just teased these Deskers and always responded to him with utter racism. Despite the hostility, Lance would always test their patience.


    "Purpose?" Mari said and hustled back to the holographicputer that appeared on her top ss table.


    "Promotion from Scrapper 1 to Scrapper 2," Lance responded. He turned on the Cloud Archive ready for submission.


    Mari, impudently and without any further words, held an open palm towards the kid while her other hand was typing on the holographicputer.


    "Don¡¯t have much time, kid," Mari told him.


    Lance ced the Cloud Archive on Mari¡¯s open palm and Mari ced the Tab in a ss tform of the scanner beside her, so skillfully, while she turned the machine with a few touches on the touchpad and the other still typing on her holographicputer.


    The scanner hummed gently and the machine turned off after a few seconds. All data in Lance¡¯s Cloud Archive were transferred to her holographicputer.


    "Lance Berkley, 16 years of Age, April 20, 2124, Steelpoint Sector, South Easter Regions of Axe Central City. Cabin 19. Confirm details."


    "Yeah, correct," Lance responded without further teasing. His birthday, April 20th, struck him. He suddenly remembered that current month, September. They were nearing the December month, the coldest season ever, and the Abominants more active. He was unconcerned with the dangers beyond due to the presence of high walls unless another traitor would let an Abominant slip through underneath.


    His concern majorly fell on the premise of high Abominant activity outside the walls which connotates disruption of his business logistically.


    He must acquire Salt sooner before December, he thought. A deal also could be a game changer, moreover, would dy or prevent the urrence of water shortage, especially in December.


    They called it Demetrian Season.


    "Checking Invention Patents ¨C Water Dispenser Bioscanner," Mari said.


    Lance only nodded. He was silenced by the thought. His Tyllrium trade probably would halt during this season. It would disrupt his momentum of gaining more units to acquire the Energy elerator.


    ¡¯Probably it¡¯s best to acquire theponent or the salt for that matter after Demetrian,¡¯ Lance thought. But it was not the best course of action, though. His acquisition of Energy elerator could wait but the provision of salts was of greater importance to prevent shortages.


    As News had rampantly broadcasted, the Salt caravans mining in the North Mountains were always ambushed by the Abominants.


    Any shortages in the Demetrian Season doubled its impact. The reason for which, Lance could not exin. People, mid-ssers and high-ssers, horde food supply a few months before Demetrian. Unfortunately for the low-lifers, if there was a shortage of any scarce resources, they had no choice but to prevail after the cold season.


    "All boxes checked out," Mari said after a few minutes of checking his credentials and confirming the Currency Cards in the scanners. "Congrattions, you are a scrapper 2." She said it so uncheerfully.


    "What kind of Assessor is that!" A young delightful voice appeared behind Lance.


    Lance squinted at her back and the source of the voice came in sauntering fast towards the Desker. Her delightful voice matched her face. It was a girl, about his age.


    Pony-tailed multi-colored hair, bright smoky eyes, heart-shaped face, and proportionate features. Her smile made Lance froze. The curt smile she paired with her smoky eyes staring at him was immensely beautiful that his Science rational wits could not fathom.


    However, it was evident that she was way out of his league. She had silky clothes,yers of them, pieces of jewelry popting her neck, her wrists dangling gold, and a hoverboard on her side.


    ¡¯Hoverboard,¡¯ his stares shifted to the portable vehicle. ¡¯These were prohibited for public use.¡¯


    "Hey, you, fellow Aspirant!" She spoke to him with her unceasing smile. Lance only had his agape jaw as he once again trapped to her blissful eyes, trying to utter a word but a simple ¡¯hi¡¯ never came.

 Chapter 33: Sidetrack: Lost

    Arcanium, borders of Oroz Continent, 500 miles East of Terrabitha


    ***


    The man¡¯s legs hung from a deep deathly chasm as he sat on the edge of a mountain cliff. The edge was a perfectly cut rock that would enable one to sit properly without sliding one¡¯s thighs.


    It was a perfect spot for him.


    Half a mile below his feet was a sea of dark clouds. He could not even see beyond the expanse of thend, as dust particles prohibited him from seeing. However, his vision flew towards the horizon where blue skies above met the dark skies below.


    He felt the cold air, fresh and clean without the mercy of filtration. Without the reach of MAF. All he could say was the sun was magnificent.


    Hisrades said that the polluted and radiated air seemed to have physical limits failing its reach beyond a certain level, hence, clean air above the dark cloud skies.


    Probably the dust particles and the radiation they carried were heavy enough. Hence, density was the culprit.


    Even after a few years of experiencing direct sunlight, still, the sight of it seems to be his first time. Even the sunrays hurt his eyes, they felt like a blessing from a supernatural omnipotent being.


    The thought of darkness still haunts him and gives him nightmares as his thoughts linger longer.


    ¡¯Damn you!¡¯ He cursed inwardly. He cursed every day upon the sight of the dark sea of clouds. His curses were meant to no one in particr. He had forgotten why he cursed so much.


    But it seemed right, felt right, the cursing. He should air out whatever that umtes heavily in his chest, constantly, persistently, endlessly.


    Hate. He knew it was hate. Or cancer. He was not sure.


    He coughed. His throat experienced a slight sore. He was not used to the cold breeze. He inhaled and exhaled deeply every day like a lifeline. Without the fresh air, he would die. His body told him so.


    Faint footfalls of soles against pebbles were nearing him.


    ¡¯Hmpf,¡¯ He sighed. ¡¯It¡¯s her again.¡¯


    "Doctor. Asexual propagation is a sess!" The woman spoke with delight.


    He did not answer at that. She knew that her statement was expected by the Doctor. He knew that she knew that.


    ¡¯She is smart,¡¯ The man smiled.


    He revered the minds of the people of achieving positive results of the first Asexual propagation of a fruit-bearing tree. It was done before the Nuclear World War, however, not after that.


    They tested a Mango tree seedling. Asexually propagating it would elerate its fruit production.


    However, the asexual propagation was way different than before. Their nts were not normal. The Gicists used DNA reconstruction to emte that of a true nt.


    All nts were dead after the Nuclear World War.


    Growing one was impossible. They collected shards of the remnants of the living nts. Trunk barks, twigs, roots, leaves, and flowers all were collected and sampled.


    Theyb-tested everything with sheer hard work and faith. Until a miracle happened, a slight probability emerged from a series of failures. It was all they needed.


    A 1% chance. It was only a matter of time.


    Not to mention the collection of uncontaminated soil - a soil that consists of proper nutrients that would suffice growth. The Botanists had weeks of achieving sufficient nting materials, uncontaminated water, and recalibrating atmospheric levels to induce growth.


    He admired the Gicists. He admired the Botanists too.


    Side-by-side, the odds of achieving the desired results are almost close to 90%.


    It was not an easy feat. DNA reconstruction and a Botanical nursery despite radiation factors for nt growth was impossible for a feeble mind like him. But with them, everything was achievable.


    A new Earth, as they preached.


    The man thought that such professions were forgotten. He thought the world was hopeless. He thought that the only redemption was total annihtion. Ending the hate, ending the violence, and ending the evil.


    He was wrong. He was always wrong since.


    The man was always right before, admired by many. His hard work defines him as a professional Scientist. However, all of them, his colleagues, and subordinates, turned against him.


    Unknowingly, the situation dictated a point of no return ¨C to his death.


    Blinded by everything else, while treachery grewrger andrger that it was uncontroble. Vague dreams emerged every night that a snake bit him, and its fangs bore poison that delivered his unfortunate demise. If it was a dream or a memory, he was not sure.


    The man was done.


    He was tired before but now, renewed.


    All remorse he wanted to just throw them away to where he sat.


    "Aren¡¯t you gonna watch the progress?" The woman asked from behind. She neglected the beauty of a picturesque view unlike the man, who had deep veneration almost as if one would dream of flying and tasting everything he sees.


    "Why? I know it will work," the man replied without looking at her. He steadied his breathing. He knew the results already, hours before themencement of the experiment.


    He made the calctions. Atst, they were right.


    Finally, he hauled himself up. The glorious sun was now setting and the dark sea of clouds now shrouded with an orange hue.


    He shook his head. But he had to leave.


    "Let¡¯s take a look shall we," He said as he finally turned his back from the sunset.


    After a few steps, pressing deeper into the teau, arge dome sat precariously at the center. He dragged his feet, like a child, against the Bermuda grass that heaved the mountain bed.


    "Are you ok, Doctor?" The woman asked watching his childish behavior.


    He smiled at the young woman.


    ¡¯She grew so fast, the same age as him,¡¯ He thought pondering the woman¡¯s height.


    "You seemed so quiettely," The woman asked again.


    "I am always quiet when I¡¯m outside," He finally answered her. He had a heavy heart every time he strolled outside. Heavier every time the sun kissed the dark clouds.


    "You never share why," she said again.


    He shrugged at the statement.


    ¡¯I know he is making a difference now. Sadly, he is always in danger. He should be here, with me,¡¯ He thought as they continued to approach the dome.


    Tworge reinforced doors started to open, unpressurized. He almost missed what it felt like pressurized doors as they had in the surviving city. On the peak of Arcanium Mountain, there was no need. The air was uncontaminated.


    His buddy, Greg, a geologist, exined the phenomenon to him why that particr peak had no contamination.


    He admired the Geologist, too. They say he was the one who started the establishment of the camp. And everyone, including him, joined. But he waste.


    He knew it waste. They werete.


    The was beyond saving anymore. His project should have been the key to everything. But the thought of it sped fear unto his soul.


    "Thank you, Nina," The man mused and the woman smiled back.


    As he entered with Nina, a burst of apuse surprised him. Hisrades were wearing theirb coats, all were facing him. Their smiles were authentic unlike what he had in the Corporation.


    The scenery reminded him of home. In Bay City. When he was still a lowly Scrapper Scientist Tier 4. The warm apuse grew louder, his tears were welling up his eyelids.


    He smiled at them in return. He wanted to say something; however, he could burst into tears uncontrobly, embarrassing himself in front of many. They cheered for him. Secretly, the man was cheering for every one of them, as his gratitude towards hisrades was endless, invaluable.


    "Project Nightfall is a sess, Doctor. Thanks to you!


    Hope?

 Chapter 34: Sidetrack: Nightfall

    Arcanium, borders of Oroz Continent, 500 miles East of Terrabitha


    ____________________________________________________________________________________________


    ***


    At first, the apuse was surprising, he repaid them with his authentic gesture. The man exchanged handshakes, tapped on the shoulders, and exchanged hugs. He hugged the ones closest to his heart.


    The ones who worked closely with Project Nightfall.


    "Speech! Speech!" A few of them said.


    He doesn¡¯t like speeches. It would bring bitter memories. Back in the city, at the peak of his career, he was used to the spotlight, talking in front of many. But now it had be traumatic. Anyhow, traditionally, he should deliver a speech.


    "Folks. My co-professionals," he started with a soft voice, "I am new to thismunity and I am new to this drive. But truthfully, even for a few months, it was the most fulfilling months of my life!"


    The cheers grew louder and he paused for a while. He let the cheers subsided and he continued again.


    "All of you, you saved me. You save me from my despair, you save me from regaining my memories," The man nced at the Psychologist, "and you give me happiness that I never had before since I left the City. Your purpose is my purpose now, and I will contribute my very best to regain what¡¯s ours. A renewed Earth!"


    The apuse came louder.


    "A renewed Earth!" The Majority rejoiced.


    His statements had pauses that a crowd would listen to. It was a strategy for good speakers like him or rather, his respites, to mask his hurtful feelings for the warm surprise he had received.


    The man was obligated to say the words, the encouraging statements, but he never revealed his fear. He smiled instead and showered words of optimism.


    "Let¡¯s proceed, Doctor!" Nina ushered him to theb after a series of transparent walls that held various scientificbs.


    A translucent curtain, reaching unto the high ceiling of the dome, opened automatically and revealed a wide expanse of a greenhouse effect. The refracted light streaked through, fingering its way to the gaps of trusses in between panels of ss. The light came from the sun and through the translucent roofing of the dome.


    But it was not brighter as the sun was high, as it almostpletely retreated towards the ck horizon. A fraction of it still showered its rays to the peaks of the mountain.


    The Dome was designed by a Civil Engineer among their ranks. Efficient way of utilizing construction materials, as one would assess. It was made of concrete to hold the structure¡¯s integrity, but also tempered ss and wood.


    Wood.


    It was the first ever that the newly recruited man had seen; wood used for construction. The Civil Engineer was hailed the best among a throng of Civil Engineer professionals and aspirants.


    The workers under him such as his foreman, were also the best strategists in presenting alternative ways to efficiently arrive the desirable oues with the avable materials. Frugality at its best reflected the dome¡¯s structure.


    All of them, in the dome, were the best among the best.


    The man too, an Electronic Tier, considered himself the best among his colleagues. In the Dome, he was a hero. In the City, he was a traitor.


    The drive they had been working on for years tranted within the covers ofrge translucent curtains, below the transparent ceilings, and with the proper care of Nina, the assistant Botanist.


    A nt nursery.


    The man ambled to a wide table to where the sessful experiment transpired. Three professionals were at his back as the man inspected the specimen. One of them was the Gicists.


    It was a meter high Mango seedling, all were artificially grown by DNA reconstruction. Below the seedling was a seedbed filled with dark brown soil. On the sides of the table were robotic arms, four of them, hovering around the specimen and being controlled by the scientists.


    The Mango Tree seedling, as their experiment as asexual propagation, was grafted to a reprogrammed organic DNA at its base.


    "Organic tissues stabilized well with cybeic material," One scientist said. "You calctions are correct, Doctor."


    The man nodded in agreement.


    The man trained his fingers delicately to the intricatebination of a cybeic material embedded in its metallic forms in the trunk and the roots.


    "They are synchronizing, we managed to stabilize the DNA fusion," The man said as he closely inspected the abnormalities. There was none. No seeping of tree sap. No burned discoloration of barks. No scion destruction. The Masterwork-level metals were the key to his experiment.


    Everything seemed normal. His heart was pounding.


    "Ok,mence Electricity induction," the man said.


    One scientist turned the knob and the whirring of smooth equipment hums emerged from the bottom of the table. The cybeic-infused material glowed as a jolt of amperage passed on them.


    The roots expanded below the soil, perceptible by the movement below the seed bed. The nt grew gradually. For 10 seconds, it grew 10% of its growth as they measured it.


    "Full charge capacity. Hit it," the man said again.


    The equipment below hummed again, louder this time and the nt grew at an increased rate. Branches from the sides of the trunks emerged like thorns. The trunk turned its color to bluish, almost perceptible veins of electricity sinuously winding the surface of the seedling¡¯s bark.


    The humming continued and so as the seedling¡¯s growth. For over a minute, it doubled its height and its branch span had tripled. The trunk looked mature like bonsais, but bigger.


    "Continue charging," the man said again, his voice overpowering the humming machine.


    "Doctor, the charge won¡¯t hold," the scientist contested.


    The Dome lights flickered in the process. Everybody in the building witnessed closely as the experiment progressed.


    The seedbed started to crack and the roots crawled out from the table like live snakes. The outcropping now becamerger than the tree itself.


    Such happenstance was expected by the man who conducted the experiment. The roots grew faster as to where his cybeic infusion core was in ce. It should be in the roots to hasten the absorption of nutrients to support the elerated growth of the tree.


    The mango tree tripled its size for about 3 minutes and the source of the charge had surrendered. The humming was discontinued and the growth halted.


    There was silence. Others were waiting if the project was a sess or not.


    The man was silent too.


    Then, right before they were disheartened, flowers sprung along the branches, almost recing the number of leaves with yellowish flowers. The petals bloomed right away as if they were moving on their own. Fragrant scents were released filling the room with an unfamiliar aroma.


    As they bloomed, fruits sprouted at the flower¡¯s ovaries and their growth was elerated too, until its full maturity.


    Then the awes from the crowd grew. As if they were witnessing a miracle in progress.


    ¡¯Even without the charge, it was still bearing fruit?¡¯ The man was perturbed.


    It was the first time he witnessed a nt bearing fruit for less than 5 minutes.


    "Status?" The man asked the scientist who conducted the monitoring.


    "The charge is at 0% and the tree is at its 60% full growth. That¡¯s below 5 minutes of injecting electric current. We need a bigger and stronger battery to support the full growth of the nts. We need power."


    The man nodded.


    "We needed a Masterwork level Ultragenerator" the man replied.


    "What is it, Doctor?" It was Nina who asked.


    "An infused Electromaic Battery, partnered with an Energy elerator," the man responded.


    "Where can we get one?"


    "He will MAKE one for us," Erik replied.

 Chapter 35: Jaqi

    "Hello there fellow Aspirant," she smiled like a shimmering light reflected from the gentle waves of the sea from the sun. Looking directly at the reflection, some of it has this blinding effect, however, the overall scenery was splendid.


    She was the sun.


    "Uh, hi?" Lance awkwardly asked, almost as softly that the intended receiver did not hear.


    "Mari, this guy is a newly promoted Scientist!" the girl said to the Assessor, ignoring Lance¡¯s greetings, as she ambled close to them. "improve your tonality!"


    "Ah..yes..yes.. I am sori Ms. Jaqi," the assessor stuttered. She had the immense respect for Lance¡¯s fellow aspirant. She seemed to be the same age as him, 16 years of age, but surprisingly, she managed to reprimand a mid-sser Desker.


    "Congrattions, Lance Berkley, of Steelpoint," Mari adjusted her voice, "for being promoted as Scrapper 2. Your efforts as a Scientist are well appreciated. We are here to assist you in any way of our offered programs to help you in cultivating your creative mind. Your Cloud Archive will also show your perks of being a Scrapper 2. Hope to see you soon!" Mari¡¯s voice was cheerful now.


    It was almost scripted. But it seemed authentic or practiced.


    ¡¯Who is this girl?¡¯ Lance thought. ¡¯She may be the manager here?¡¯


    "That¡¯s more like it. That¡¯s an assessor I expect within the walls of SARS!" the girl mused and turned towards Lance and ambled close.


    Her scent was addictively inviting and it grew more pronounced as she moved closer to him.


    Lance felt numerous defining emotions, overwhelming for a mortal like him. He was not sure if it¡¯s his promotion that made him freeze or the angel that stood in front of him.


    "Congrattions, Lance. Hope to see you here soon!" she extended an open palm.


    Her hand hung for a few precious seconds but her eyes never left his. As he realized the air of awkwardness, as if a sudden jolt of sanity had awoken him, he shook the girl¡¯s hand.


    Her fingers were soft like they were delicate enough that they could break. But surprisingly, it sped hard back.


    "I am Jaqi, an Electrical Tier Aspirant. J-A-Q-I, Jaqi! I have heard from Mari¡¯s congrattory statement that you are now a Scrapper 2."


    She said like being a scrapper 2 was already a high-ranking Scientist.


    "Yeah, I guess I am," Lance meekly replied.


    "We have programs here in SARS if you wanna enroll in courses better than the free courses. Ites with a discount fee, ya know. Limited time offer only."


    She speaks always with delight. Her pony-tailed hair moved, jumping at the back, as her head moved as she spoke. It was enticing that Lance could hardly respond.


    "I..I..am not looking for other courses, right now," Lance said.


    He was way too busy to enroll in a three-month course. He had his businesses going and he knew that other courses had corresponding fees to avail them. Such endeavor was too much of a luxury for him.


    "Really? Are you sure? It¡¯s already a mandate that in order for one Scientist to be an Electrical Tier, one should enroll in these courses. Come! Let me show ya!" She grasped Lance¡¯s arm and dragged him at the adjacent wall with a mounted digital monitor. The monitor revealed an advertisement of the courses avable offered by the Corporation.


    A group of high-echelon girls passed by them as Lance and Jaqi walked side-by-side and greeted thetter.


    "Hi Jaqi! Let¡¯s ride sometime!" one girl said and as she stared toward Lance, his eyes darted with immense hostility, with her forehead frowned and her eyes rolled.


    "Yeah, next week. Later, girls," Jaqi responded.


    Then another group of mid-ssers smiled unto her and waved their hands for a cheerful greeting. Jaqi waved her hand too.


    Lance was dumbfounded to walk together with a seemingly famous girl. Even the Assessors, one of the regtions groups of the Corporation, feared a young Aspirant girl.


    "Here!" Jaqi pointed at the screen. "I am enrolling this. Next school year."


    She pointed at the ¡¯Masterwork level Electronic Components Course¡¯. It was expensive, for 6 months one had to pay for 3,000 units.


    "I am really busy right now. I can¡¯t even spare a day just to rx," Lance responded.


    "Woah, busy bee, aren¡¯t ya!" Jaqi responded. She had this stare that one would be hypnotized and would distract any rational thought you recently had.


    ¡¯Respond you idiot!¡¯ Lance forced the thought.


    "What¡¯s that?" He was throwing the questions now, pointing to the hoverboard. His identity should be masked by any other citizens for that matter as he was now involved in illegal business exploits, such as Zelkian Trading. He was working with the Mafia now. Hence, talking about himself was the worst idea. He should maintain his mystery background as well.


    Moreover, she had a position in the Corporation and an organization that he had been nning to take down.


    "Ah, this?" Jaqi responded. "It¡¯s my personal mobile craft,"


    "Isn¡¯t illegal to acquire those things? I mean, hovercrafts and hoverboards are regted by the Government that only those with authority would use."


    "Yes, you are absolutely, right," Jaqi answered. "With authority. Well, in my case, I am one of the regting Committee for the Improper Scrap Use for Inventions. or CISU."


    Lance knew there was no such regting group. It was made up!


    "You won¡¯t believe me? Here, see my Identification," Jaqi showed her holographic ID.


    ¡¯Jaqi Leric, Founding Committee, CISU,¡¯ Lance read in his mind.


    He nodded in approval. But Lance knew that such amittee was only a made-up group. The mystery behind the girl piled up more. The Electrical Tiers were supposedly an intimidating bunch and a little bit older. But Jaqi Leric was a teenager.


    Questions filled his thoughts. Thus, he questioned.


    "Who are you? Are you a celebrity around here?" Lance asked.


    "You are a charmer, aren¡¯t you?" Jaqi blushed. "No, I am not a Celebrity. I am just a Scientist just like you."


    "How old are you?"


    "Turning seventeen, why?"


    "You are young for an Electrical Tier," Lance knew some of Electrical Tiers, his clients for his scrapponents, one was in Bloomforge but they were in their mid-30¡¯s. Somehow this girl had hacked the system that catapulted her status at a very young age. She must have submitted about 11 patents to arrive where she was then.


    She must be a genius of some sort.


    She smiled again. That tantalizing smile that would trap to sheer nothingness for one¡¯s admirer.


    "Have you heard about the ShowerSmart?" She said, seemed hesitant to share.


    "Yeah, are you the inventor who invented it?" Lance asked.


    "Yes, I am. That particr project promoted me three times. From Mechanical Tier 4 to Electrical Tier 3."


    "Really? Is it possible?"


    "Yeah, of course silly. It¡¯s an amended Corporation Order Article 179. The Awards Committee will assess the project¡¯s impact on the City and offer you the highest rank depending on the Committee¡¯s approval."


    "Then you are going to pay units for the promotions?" Lance was curious.


    "Eventually, yes. I paid them. All 20,000 units," She said it like it was 2000 units. She was, however, an upper-echelon ss.


    He paid for a thousand units to be a scrapper 2. However, as the rank progressed, the required units increased.


    Lance nodded then another hanging awkward silence filled in between them.


    ¡¯She is out of my league,¡¯ the thought reyed countless times.


    "C¡¯mon! Have you tried to ride?" Jaqi asked.


    "Ride? What ride?" Lance was surprised.


    "The hoverboard, silly!"


    What? Riding the Hoverboard that looked like only had one room for riding. It was almost a few inches wider and bigger than a skateboard. How could they fit in one board?


    "That looks dangerous," Lance hesitated. "It¡¯s all right, I have something to do. Maybe next time."


    Jaqi frowned a bit. A curtly frown. Then she smiled.


    "You are a busy bee! Well, then. I am also heading out. If you wanna see me again,e to the Corp Sky in Blooms." Jaqi activated his hoverboard. The board hummed, and then it elevated horizontally with heat jets powering to push against the ground, battling gravity.


    It was military grade, as all hover units were. They consumed fuel and battery at the same time. And the use of gasoline was very stringent and needs a lot of approvals.


    Another scarce resource.


    The rebels had to steal from the Fuel depots just to supply their vehicles.


    She stepped on the hoverboard as it adjusted to almost half a meter from the ground. Surprisingly, the craft carried her weight. It was more brilliant up close and admirable.


    Then she rode out after a cute wave and an enticing smile gleamed from her face. The board slid past the stairs, effortlessly, and into therge door for an exit.


    Lance released arge sigh. It was as if a heavy weight just unloaded his shoulders.


    ¡¯Corp sky?¡¯ Lance thought. ¡¯Who is she?¡¯


    Corp Sky was a Tower Skyrise in Bloomforge where all Electronic and Industrial Scientists lived. Some of its floors amodated the Corp¡¯s offices and it was considered as the center for the Corporation operations.


    He shook his head. Girls should be the least among his priorities. They were distractions to his mission. Then his mind flitted to the thought of his transaction tomorrow.


    The first transaction between him and Jonaz Enterprises.


    ¡¯Game on!¡¯ He clenched his fist and rode out as well, not with a hoverboard, but with his boots.

 Chapter 36: Sidetrack: Salt

    That night.


    Salt Caravan, North Mountain Route, 40 miles North of Axe Central City.


    ___________________________________________________________________


    ¡¯The Caravan is near,¡¯ A hunger rose in him. ¡¯They always arrive at night.¡¯


    ¡¯Why?¡¯ His thoughts questioned him. But his thoughts should not question his every decision. He was the bearer and master of the body. His thoughts should follow. But his thoughts repelled against his will. He fought against his thoughts almost every waking moment.


    ¡¯Why attacking salt?¡¯ He questioned again. He could not grasp the reason but it was unnecessary, these questions.


    ¡¯I should be sleeping now,¡¯ He forced the essence of his mind, almost sumbing to theforting calls of his thoughts. He wanted to sleep but something hadpelled him to do things sometimes he did not like.


    Sleeping was the only way to shut everything down; the noise, the decisions, themand.


    His body seemed to taste the wind, full of energy. Static energy. Not his tongue that tasted the wind, it was his skin.


    The dark clouds above them protected their skin. ¡¯Hail the clouds, hail the wind.¡¯ He praised the environment.


    It was a deand. Allnds were dead to him, except for the horrendous-looking walls 40 miles from where he stood. He wanted toy waste on what was beyond those walls. Despite that, he wanted to sleep.


    ¡¯No. He should fight. They should fight.¡¯ His decision was fixed. He should fight. He should follow orders.


    Months ago, there were no orders. He could not remember anymore when he had his free will. Free to roam around the deadnds. Free to devour as he pleased. Those days, he felt immortal. He felt unstoppable.


    However, a stronger entity hadpelled him. Not only him but many of them. At first, they don¡¯t like the stronger Entity. But something, in the depths of their subconsciousness, that the Entity¡¯s instructions and leadership were sound.


    They should not question it. They could not fight the entity; it was stronger than them.


    His thoughts, the ones he always fought when he was still free, resisted the instructions from this Entity. Constantly, fighting against the stronger will. However, the entity was overpowering, mentally, and intelligent. Eventually, his thoughts were silenced.


    His thoughts faded with the Entity¡¯s presence, gradually. He knew that his thoughts were still calling him,pelling to resist the Instructions. Helplessly, they were fading until they were iprehensible.


    But his thoughts, the noise, rose again if he was in missions away from the entity¡¯s grasp.


    What remained was the Instruction. Following the Instructions was equivalent to their lifeline. Failure to follow instructions would deliver their instant deaths. They could escape but the Entity¡¯s reach was beyond theirprehension, reaching beyond the deathnds that he always scoured.


    Fear bathed them as Instructions were passed on. The Instructions were already sealed, mentally. As if the dark skies served as the Entity¡¯s eyes, monitoring them to their every move.


    ¡¯It¡¯s nearing.¡¯ Hisrade said, telepathically. He could hear his words even those words came from an invisible space. Hisrade could not physically speak. His mouth was nowhere to be found.


    He was beautiful. It was a decision, too, aside from his grotesque face, deformed upper body, and ckened skin. His rebellious thoughts decided that such a face was appalling. No. He was beautiful. He dismissed his thoughts.


    They were silent, his thoughts. Momentarily. ¡¯They will speak again. They always do,¡¯ He referred to his rebelling mind suppressing slowly.


    ¡¯Ready them,¡¯ He responded with his mind, too. His lips werezy this time.


    He was Johnny, hisrade. He was a brother. His blood was his blood. The ck miasma that coursed inside him, a searing steam with an unending pain, had connected all of them, whatever form, as brothers.


    He forgot his name. They all are. Thus, he named himself Nathan.


    The ground shook below his feet. He could taste excitement among the ends of his nerves. He could feel the ticklish searing joy of fulfilling the instructions.


    Earthquake.


    ¡¯Hail, to the queen,¡¯ He screamed using his mind.


    ¡¯Hail, to the queen!¡¯ Hisrades screamed and responded telepathically.


    The earthquake stopped.


    The groundlings, dogs before, dug to the ground near the road. Nathan loved them. He did not treat them as his pets, they were his brothers too. The groundlings speak to him, they all could, telepathically.


    Then there was a cold and heat dancing with the gale.


    ¡¯Johnny, nk them from the right,¡¯ Nathanmanded. He gestured his hand at the opposite side of the road. Then the swarm mobilized, crossing the road, and hid behindrge piles of border.


    Johnny and his battalion followed without resistance. They understood that hismands wereplying with the Instructions given by the Entity.


    He was called the Battalion Overlord, as to their understanding of hierarchies.


    Nathan knew that their position was the best for ambush. A valley that the road had streaked through was surrounded byrge boulders and beyond the boulders were steep mountainsides, providing inescapable deaths among the Caravan.


    It was their third ambush and every time the Caravan grew stronger in terms of firepower. A lot of Nathan¡¯s brothers died in the skirmish.


    This time, he brought two level 1 battalions and one level 4 Abominant.


    They were mindless beasts but he understood them. Nathan could hear their agonizing cries as the pain would visit them. Nathan knew if they were hungry, especially the level ones. But the Entity and the hive provided them everything.


    A mile from their ambush point, dust blew up behind a series of vehicles. Threerge 20-wheelers moved slower but the smaller vehicles had lights on them, hovering and encircling the precious cargo, salt.


    They increased the number of smaller vehicles. Nathan assessed the iing caravan with his naked eye. He could see them as he magnified his vision, beyond normal human capability.


    ¡¯Three Salt carriers!¡¯ He spoke his mind to the two battalions. He knew they could hear him regardless of distance. As long as they were still covered by his radial boundary, he could speak to them without interference.


    The contaminated wind carried his mental voice towards hisrades. He saw Johnny was moving now, as nned. Johnny would take the rear and he would take the front.


    They must create confusion for the policemen. He was worried about the groundlings, though. They were the ones who died easily in skirmishes.


    Fortunately, the Entity promised to spawn more. Growing their numbers. Growing their family.


    He squinted at the level 4 Abominant behind him. It was growling, saliva dripping from his serrated teeth. Its eyes were six of them, lined up towards its ears, emitting luminous yellow. At this state, it was ready to hunt.


    Nathan did not know the Abominant¡¯s name. It only followed his instruction without question. His thorns had grown every time he looked at them, one of which wasrger than his body. They were eight thorns that came out from his exoskeleton forehead, four on each side.


    He touched its thorn, and the Abominant purred.


    "Ram the carriers and stomp on the police," He whispered to the Abominant¡¯s ear using his mouth, this time. He could utter words so effortfully, unlikemunicating through his mind.


    But the Abominant was needed to be spoken to, as his instructions were clearer thanmunicating telepathically. Then its hind legs activated as its muscles tightened. His fur turned yellow from its ck state.


    "Go!" Nathanmanded.


    The level 4 beast catapulted toward the ground leaving debris from its wake. It ran fast, miniature earthquakes loomed with every step it took. The beast slid through the downward steep and collidingrge boulders like they were nothing. Its horns decimated the million-years old boulders into rubble.


    Then it began. The surge ofsers firing randomly, illuminating the dark atmosphere with bluish sma. The groundlings emerged from the soil and attacked the caravan as well.


    They did not carry bullets tonight. Onlysers.


    There were screams, and hovercrafts crashing. A few groundlings were dead for only 5 seconds. Nathan¡¯s heart was crushed upon the horrendous site. The scenery squeezed his throat due to his fallen brethren.


    The groundlings squirmed as they died. Their weapons were powerful now, much more powerful thanst week.


    Another 20 groundlings died in another 5 seconds.


    At this rate, they could lose. However, the level 4 beast rammed the first Carrier that carried salt. A 100-tonner carrier was turned upside down as the beast horned it, Salt scattered on the floor and was contaminated by the soil.


    It disorganized the caravan.


    It was a rhino, Nathan knew it. It was just curling like a ball every time it rested but as the beast collided with the carrier, its whole body was emphasized. Its size wasrge, almost equivalent to the 100-tonner carrier.


    Thesers were concentrated on the rhino. It screamed as the firepower concentrated on its nks. The ck miasma wafted in the air as the wounds appeared from various parts of its body.


    These were new weapons as Nathan assessed. There were many, overwhelming hisrades.


    Too many. Theye prepared.


    The rear of the caravan was ambushed and the explosions loomed from behind. But still, thesers persisted, and the police human and robots alike disembarked from the third carrier, surprising the attacking groundlings. He thought the third carrier only carried salt, however, it was a surprise party.


    Nathan¡¯s heart was aching from the sight. The ck miasma from hisrades¡¯ blood grew thicker. Dead groundling bodiesically scattered on the ground, increasing every second.


    Is this my first defeat? He thought.

 Chapter 37 - 36: Sidetrack: Salt 2

    Salt Caravan, North Mountain route, 40 miles North of Axe Central City


    ____________________________________________________________________________________


    ***


    He could not deliver instructions anymore for a retreat as all of hisrades were overwhelmed with the skirmish.


    Nathan decided to engage himself in the fight. He ran down steeply from where he perched, sped up fast, and jumped high above the obstructing boulders, covering 200 meters distance for only three heartbeats.


    He was fast, racing towards death. He had never run that fast before. Even before he was free. Even before he was not human anymore.


    As his feet reached the road, he jumped high, above thesers hitting random directions. He hung for a moment at the top of the chaos. It was weird for him as if the wind was pushing against his descent.


    Then he realized, in between his fingers were Chiroptera and it exined his slow descent. Not only that, he discovered that he could maneuver to angles. Luckily for Nathan, the wind blew strong from above.


    Leveraging his flight, Nathan decided tond on the third carrier where the surprise party settled in a dump box that groundlings could hardly reach.


    The Rhino was pushing the second carrier hard but it was slowed down by dozens ofser firepower concentrating his nks.


    Then hended. He felt the solid metallic ground dented below his feet as hended.


    About 15 policemen and Robotic police humanoids were startled upon hisnding, his feet shook the carrier gently enough to create a stir.


    "Enemy on board!" One policeman noticed and alerted hisrades.


    "What¡¯s that, hideous!" The other said.


    "Kill it!" They screamed behind their sophisticated masks.


    They turned their weapons towards him, however, he managed to evade their aims. Thesers missed their mark, others hitting on friendlies. He caught one humanoid robot to its head with his fingers sping to its metallic face.


    Then he squeezed hard and the metallic head was crushed, oil dripping towards his arms.


    He felt invincible.


    The policemen had their sophisticated armor, strapped weapons on their suits, and coveralls that protected their skins from the harsh environment. Their robotic counterparts were humanoid forms, powered by an AI operating system. They were much heavier than the humans and a lot stronger.


    Their armaments were intimidating to ponder for other human beings. However, it felt no difference for him.


    A surge of dark power emerging from his core heightened his senses, and encouraged him to push further his physical capabilities.


    It was not easy but he was shocked by his strength. Then he ducked again, his moves feigning left and right, confusing the aiming weapons. He caught one policemen¡¯s crotch and threw the human overboard, effortlessly. The other one, he bumped it with his shoulder and the enemy¡¯s body crashed against the other policemen.


    He could not read his movements too, as if the fighting was innate and utterly muscle reflex. Animal instincts took over his being, and his thoughts and the noise in his head were silenced.


    Only peace.


    His movements almost seemed involuntary, but effective. His senses were heightened, nearly knowing the future. He felt the vibrations of theing dangers, triggering his senses, and the dangers never touched him.


    Then after five heartbeats, all the policemen in the dump box of the carrier were either dead or incapacitated.


    After the skirmish, he inspected the dumb box and was shocked by the blood that painted the floor. Limbs were detached, innards were thrown out, and heads rolled on the ground.


    This is power.


    A hovercraft passed by and it evaded his reach. It circled back and fired at him and oneser had charred his thigh. He decided not to evade the shot. His body told him that he could take it.


    Testing theser¡¯s power.


    It was painful, though. The burning sensation dug deep into his skin, to his muscles, and invaded his bone. The ooze came out, his blood, jet ck and thick. The miasma came after but he ignored it.


    Then the hovercraft came nearing, hissers wereing too. He evaded them, especially to where his uncovered parts would be.


    His wound would intervene in his jumping strength. He could not reach the enemy again with his condition.


    But he felt the charred tissues turned cold, he felt his fibers were rejoining again. Healing. The pain dissipated to an elerated state.


    Then he screamed to the hovercraft, his essence told him so. His esophagus released a sharp noise, voiceless, his neck strained to have amodate such power. The sound waves came forth distorting the circuitry of the board. Electricity surging from its rotors, burning the equipment at the same time.


    The policeman crashed from behind and it exploded.


    Rhino managed to destroy the second carrier. It did not tip it over to its side, however, it crushed the carrier, metal against exoskeleton, until the carrier imploded from the leaking fuel tanks.


    The explosion burned nearby enemies in the process. The screams came, even one survivor ran with mes at his back. He took out his mask, regaining his breath from the fumes he ingested inside his suit. But the contaminated air suffocated his lungs and died right after.


    The fumes were tasty. The blow had caressed his face.


    Its salt load wasted to the atmosphere and into the ground. Another sess.


    No more salt for tonight. Such importance of the mined salt gave no meaning to them. But the Instructions were absolute. Such questions and doubts will not be entertained.


    He saw Johnny finishing off a few remaining robotic policemen at the rear. Hisid arms sprayed poison, a mist of green fog, onto his enemies and killed them instantly. Their skins seemed to elerate the aging for a tremendously short time, disintegrating flesh and muscles beneath their skins.


    However, robotic police won¡¯t be affected by poison. He choked them instead and pulled their heads off from their bodies. Hisid arms somehow turned to constrictive Boas that would lock the prey to perfect immobility.


    If Johnny would infiltrate a city, he could kill hundreds of human beings for a second.


    He admired his brother and was d that Johnny was his Adjutant Overlord.


    The Battalion Overlord was happy to witness Johnny harnessing his power. It was new to him too. Thanks to the Entity, they were given additional powers and strength, harnessing their full potential.


    These gifts forced them to leave all human essence behind them, killing every wisp of human rational thinking.


    There was silence, only the mes had sung together with the whistling wind. The growls of the survivors were faint and exhausted.


    ¡¯Pity my brothers,¡¯ He saw them regaining themselves.


    If he had not intervened in the fight, they could have been defeated.


    Two of the hovercraft policemen managed to escape. They could not catch up to them. Even the groundlings, couldn¡¯t. His speed was way slowerpared to the hovering machines.


    Rhino seemed to seed his wounds, and the yellow ents of his fur and skin subsided turning to ck again.


    ¡¯Easy there, Rhino,¡¯ It had no name. But he had the authority to give names as their Overlord.


    ¡¯Our brethren fell,¡¯ Johnny said from where he stood. ¡¯May their essence be guided by the Entity.¡¯


    ¡¯The Entity will guide the fallen to eternal rest,¡¯ Nathan responded.


    Some groundlings had survived and flocked towards him. The Carrier dump box served as his pedestal. Some groundlings were licking their wounds, a few of them licked the wounds of Rhino.


    ¡¯Do we need to go after the escapees?¡¯ Johnny asked.


    ¡¯No need,¡¯ Nathan responded. ¡¯They would tell the tale. Inject fear unto them. To tell them, that we areing.¡¯

 Chapter 38: 1st Deal

    Scrapper 2 Perks


    [1] ess to Scrap Yard Tier 2: Scrap Yard Tier 2 isposed of medium-grade scrapped service robots, equipment, and industrial and electronic scraps. The based on inventory logs of scrap haulers:


    Common level Scraps: 40%


    Umon Level Scraps: 58%


    Rare Level Scraps: 2%


    Masterworks Level Scraps: 0%


    [2] Tier 2 level Amodation: Upgrade from Cabin amodations to Apartment Amodations.


    Address: Upper Zone Steelpoint District Sector


    Amodation Features: 35 sq meter floor area. 1 room and 1 BR (ShowerSmart ready)


    [3] Currency Earnings:


    Scrap Component Trading Earning: 10% increase


    Scrapper Monthly incentive: 0 units


    Scrap Quota per month: 30 kg scraps / 300 units trade price (new)


    Notice: Scrapper 2 perks are subject to change depending on Corporation Order Article 6969 amendment.


    ***


    Lance could not exin his feelings. His heart was racing, cold sweat on his forehead, and shivering knees. But whatever the definition of his feeling, he wanted it to be excitement.


    However, his mind raced to terrifying possibilities. He felt somebody was looking at them, monitoring their illegal operations. Such a set of eyes had been gawking behind the scraps, melted behind the mercy of the shadows.


    ¡¯It¡¯s just your imagination,¡¯ Lance convinced his thoughts.


    His first delivery to the Mafia should be sessful. Behind him were 20 Zelkians, each housed by those EazyCage products that boxed the animal without a hole to ess air to the inside maintaining pressurized air inside.


    The EazyCage had batteries to suffice cleaned and filtered oxygen for an hour. Such cages were used for transport outside the walls, beyond the reach of MAFs, to prevent contaminated air affected the merchandise inside of it.


    One adult Zelkian per Eazycage unit. Twenty EazyCage units to satisfy the order.


    He should not fear, as he always convinced himself for about three hours before the transaction would take ce. Meditation would convince an individual to surpass negative feelings, as he had read online. He meditated, however, the fear wouldn¡¯t just fade away in an instant.


    He checked his watch. He had been watching his holographic watch for almost every minute.


    1900 H.


    Darkness filled the area. The street lights were faint and the scrap yard was silent. Nobody wanted to scour scraps in the night as danger lurks on every dark corner.


    The time of pick-up was 1930H.


    Luckily, the scrap piles were higher in Scrap Yard Tier 2. He was not able to ponder on the scrap piles for precious parts as a fixated mind would hinder one¡¯s ability to think.


    Damian and Joe stood closely at his back. He needed to portray nonchnce to impress hisrades. He¡¯s a rebel now, thus, being fearful was a weakness.


    It was the perfect pick-up site for Jonaz Garback Truck business. Garbage trucks also hauled scraps from Inds towards the Scrap yards.


    Lance touched theser knife in his holster. ¡¯It was still there.¡¯ He sighed.


    "Are you ok, kid?" Damian asked. He probably noticed Lance¡¯s jittering, walking about back and forth.


    "Don¡¯t worry about me, Damian. There is always a first time for everything," Lance responded, justifying his cowardly feeling.


    "The Zelkians are healthy, boss. Maybe that¡¯s what you worry about," Joe reassured. Joe did a great job maintaining the farm¡¯s upkeep and feeding the Zelkians to their growth. The operating costs were within the agreed budget.


    "The couples are having another natal batch again," Joe said as Lance did not answer him previously.


    "Statistically, Zelkians should have 1 female in this next natal batch out of 6," Lance responded. They will discover it after a few days of birthing schedule.


    "But still, we will acquire Zelkians in Axiom Trench for the second delivery," Lance reminded them.


    "Cool! Another 500 units for me," Damian rubbed his palms against each other.


    Lance only smiled at that. Damian, Joe, and George were happy with the transactions. For every trip to Axiom, Damian earned 500 units in a month. That¡¯s more than double what a factory worker could earn. Then, another trip for Damian was nned out, which excites the Specialist.


    "Hey, kid. Don¡¯t worry about your safety," Damian assured. "Maybe you don¡¯t know, Jefferson sent two of our neophytes watching us from behind the scraps.


    "Where?" Lance asked.


    "They¡¯re behind the four piles across from us." Damian waved. And a silhouette of a man waved back too.


    "These thugs should not be a problem, kiddo," Damian added. "They are not trained really to fight, unlike in our Rebellion, we always encounter conflict with the police. If you experienced war kid, this is a walk in the park for these guys."


    Damian was right. Rigor was easy for Damian to knock the thug down to his butt. Joe too, even though he was thin and long-limbed, however, the way he handled his rifle during their Abominant encounter had a hint of training. He had stiff shoulders to support the recoil and a left hand stiffly supporting the rifle¡¯s length.


    "They are here, master," Jasper detected. "An iing Garbage truck just entered the Scrap Yard gate."


    "Thanks, Jasper." Lancemended. "Ready?" Lance asked Damian and Joe.


    "Boss, the question is, are you?" Joe retorted.


    He nodded.


    He was not ready. All his recent endeavors were new to him. Seemingly, what he treaded were dangerous paths, and such a journey was not for the faint of heart.


    However, he was the contrary.


    A 10-wheeler Garbage truck arrived. The cabin windows were tinted so it concealed the driver and the passenger from their standpoint. Neon and LED lights were installed on its side to provide road visibility.


    Although the truck wasrge and could carry 10 tons of garbage, the engine hummed smoothly.


    It was electric.


    ¡¯Jonaz enterprises had a lot of currency,¡¯ Lance thought. Upon the site of it, such vehicle was expensive beyond the minimum requirements of other Garbage trucks owned by the Sectoral Extension Units.


    Below the cabin had printed theirpany¡¯s logo, ¡¯Jonaz Enterprises¡¯, and under it was ¡¯City Garbage Hauler¡¯ in luminous effect.


    The truck halted in front of them. The lights flickered, high and low beam three times. It was the signal.


    Lance raised a thumb towards them.


    Then the driver and the passenger disembarked from their vehicle, their faces obscured by the dark, moreover, the lights were facing forward, revealing only silhouettes of two men walking towards them.


    "Jasper, scan for weapons," Lance whispered.


    "Weapons in the cabin, Master," Jasper responded.


    It raised Lance¡¯s skin hair as the two men were nearing. Luckily their weapons stayed in the cabin. Joe and Damian also took a few steps near Lance, anticipating any violent encounter.


    "As agreed, 20 Zelkians in the cages," Lance said as the two men halted a few steps away. Still, their faces were obscured by the lights behind them.


    "Ya sure kid you are good for it?" The hoarse voice was familiar. Then the man took a step further nearer to Lance. "If it misses one product, ya gonna regret the agreement, kid."


    "Rigor, came to be humiliated again," Lance responded while squinting at Damian.


    Find adventures at m_v l|e¡¯m-p| y r


    "Hmm. Still cowering behind the back of that dog of yours, aren¡¯t ya?" Rigor taunted.


    "Are we going to do this or not?" Lance dismissed such teasing.


    Rigor and the driver counted them. The EazyCage units were easy to inspect, as the name suggests. A button would show a digital disy on its small screen provided of what was inside. There was no need to open the EazyCage unit just for inspection.


    Rigor was making sure all of them had a Zelkian inside. They loaded the merchandise in the haulpartment of the truck. Rigor held these deathly stares again to the kid as they carried the cages toward the back of the truck.


    "What will happen, kiddo, if I will dere only 19 Zelkians?" Rigor said, his smile had this deceitful kind of way that would haunt a little girl. But Lance was no little girl. Even still, his face would haunt one¡¯s dreams.


    "Well, lucky me. I recorded the whole thing during your inspection. This is my insurance if ever you double-cross me." Lance responded, not showing signs of weakness.


    Rigor seemed to be unaffected by the presence of Damian and Joe. However, Lance masked their true identities as rebels as it would ensure nullification of such an agreement.


    "Smarty pantsy, are ya kid?" Rigor smiled and got on with the hauling.


    "Master, bad news. Police are entering the scrap yard," Jasper reported.

 Chapter 39: 1st Deal 2

    "To be a pure businessman, one should be able to establish a system for his business that it should run independently even without the owner¡¯s supervision.


    If the business owner could not run his business without his presence, then he is not a business owner, it is still called self-employed like doctors do."


    Erik Berkley lecture to his son


    ***


    The police came with two Aventador-like police cars. Lowered suspensions, 17-inch rims, and efficient for road pursuits. Although, they were cheaper than the hovercrafts used by higher police ranks.


    Surprisingly, the inspection route for the police officers should only cover the streets as they always do, but not within the scrap yards.


    Lance hated the thought of the tranquilizing cuffs that they always carry. A double-jeopardy, Lance would call it, the perp would be handcuffed and then tranquilized to suppress movement.


    "Fecking Polz!" Rigor cursed. The second goon was rather silent and collected.


    As the police cars were about to approach the bunch, the Mafia thugs covered the EazyCage units with scraps hastily and closed the garbage hatch right after.


    2 policemen disembarked their vehicles. Rifles were clear from the silhouette figures sauntering towards them.


    The rebel members retreated to the piles, concealing themselves from the sight of the policemen.


    "Howdy, officers!" Rigor asked, covering his eyes against the bright front headlights of their vehicles.


    "Just a routine inspection, boys," The first cop ambled closer to the truck, his metallic boots crunched the pebbled ground. "What do we have here?"


    "Ah ya know, routine hauls officah," Rigor responded. His nonchnt approach hoped that the police would not sniff out the illegal merchandise in the truck.


    "Nice truck, is it Jonaz?" The second police said, tapping the side of the truck.


    "Yeah, your garbage is our responsibility!" Rigor said with delight like the advertisements. Solidifying the alibi that their business was legitimate.


    "Fancy. Now, what we are wonderin¡¯, as we follow the truck from a few blocks away, we haven¡¯t seen a Jonaz garbage truck in this Sector. Jonaz Enterprises only served Inds, right?" The first policeman squinted at his partner who stood a few meters back from him.


    The second officer nodded to confirm. Most of the policemen were also low-lifers and had lived beyond themoners¡¯ sectors the longer they worked with the force, they would be transferred to their officer¡¯s bunk houses.


    "Well, there were changes of route ns, just adjustedst minute," Rigor answered. "I was surprised myself, I mean, Steelpoint?" His hoarse voice still appeared warbled even though he tried to speak clearly to prove his point.


    "Really? Let me call your office, I know one clerk there," The first police said. He took out his cell phone, which they were authorized to own such technology, and started dialing.


    "Officah, there¡¯s no need to call the office. If you want, our representative will submit a written report tomorrow in your station to rify this misunderstanding," Rigor exined. He seemed to handled the situation swiftly even under the circumstances that these officers were trained to be borate with their investigation.


    Rigor must have experienced this kind of confrontation. Lance had not intervened in such an exchange as he might reveal the truth at some point. In this situation, it was an art, as Lance had evaluated, and Rigor was the artist.


    "What¡¯s your name again?" The officer asked Rigor. "I am gonna need some identifications."


    The second officer ordered Rigor¡¯spanion to open the garbage hatch. The Mafia needs to justify the reason why the Garbage reached this side of the City. But seemingly, the police officers were resilient.


    "Rigor," Rigor responded.


    "Rigor, who?" The officer persisted


    "Rigor Cruz," Rigor answered. Seemed a made-up name. This raised Lance¡¯s hairs at his nape.


    "Identifications, Mr. Cruz," Police asked and Rigor activated his holographic ID from his wrist. The police had his little interrogations again, the Standard Protocol type of questioning. Then he nodded. Seemingly, Cruz was Rigor¡¯s true surname.


    During the exchange, Lance had utter difficulty of masking his shivering limbs. Luckily, his jacket vaguely covered his cowardice.


    "Ok, Mr. Cruz. Who¡¯s the kid?" The officer asked. The officer¡¯s eyes darted towards the cowering teenager. Lance did not move, just stood there almost nonchnt looking. He had this stance that portrayed confidence, legs spread, hands on his pockets, and broadened chest.


    "He is a scrapper here in the yard. I just needed his help to look for better scraps as instructed in the office. Hey, I just delivered the instructions, Officer. I will call my supervisor to submit a report tomorrow at your precinct." Rigor insisted. Probably who noticed Lance¡¯s dangerous disposition.


    "A scrapper, you say," The officer was nearing Lance. His metallic soles had this ominous crunching sound as he took every step.


    Lance only smiled, however, perspiration loomed beneath his jeans. He could feel cold sweat soaking his back. He was afraid to utter a word as it could reveal his shivering lips.


    ¡¯Short and simple answers only, idiot!¡¯ Lance forced the thought.


    "Yes, officer. Rigor is telling the truth," Lance realized hisme response.


    "Truth, ya say!" The officer closed their gap, "Show me your ID." Then the officer smiled as if he knew the lies behind the kid¡¯s statement.


    "Here it is, Officer, sir," Lance was panicking inside but he had to maintain hisposure. It was his first encounter to be interrogated, trying to shroud their illegal activity. However, he was assured that the Zelkians¡¯ shrieking could be unheard as one of the features of the EazyCage.


    "Lance, Berkley, 16 years old, Scrapper Tier 2," The officer read the holographic ID. "Ah, a scientist. A good citizen of our beloved city!"


    "Ya, all know that the Salt Caravan was attacked by the Abominantsst night. And Police roving routes are stringent nowadays to maintain the peace," The officer spat as he continued.


    The hydraulics of the hatch hissed as it opened revealing the load of the Garbage truck. Now, it gave Lance gooseflesh. His journey might end at the hands of the policemen, or in prison.


    ¡¯I don¡¯t wanna be ICED!¡¯ Lance shrugged the thought. ICED was the term for the incarcerated who served for life. Lance only exaggerated the thought. Or be stripped of his license in that manner. If being banned for life would greatly affect his mission. Avenging his parents by the fall of Corporation would be just a dream, an unrealized dream.


    "Kid, do you have something to say?" the officer continued his interrogation.


    Lance shook his head.


    ¡¯Maybe I showed signs of dishonesty,¡¯ Lance thought as the train of questions from the Officer were persistent. As if he knew something.


    ¡¯It is just a protocol.¡¯ He convinced himself again.


    At the back of his head, the thought of rebels might spark a gunfight. The rebels should not reveal themselves. Thanks to them, his life was safe. But revealing themselves if such a situation dictates, violence would ensue. Probably jail, and most unfortunately, the nullification of his deal with Jonaz.


    "What is this?" The second officer¡¯s voice rose from behind the truck together with the other thug.


    "Ah. Scraps, of course, officer," The second thug answered inly. The officer tried to inspect the piled scraps inside the Garbage truck.


    "What¡¯s that smell?" The second officer was rmed.


    "Scraps, of course, officer. We are hauling garbage here so it exins the smell." The second thug replied.


    Lance knew that the Zelkians, even caged in EazyCage units, smell would always seep out.


    "Are you sure? It¡¯s like a living animal you hauled in here," the second officer started to rustle his hands below the scrap items.


    Lance heart beat fast. Hammering strongly every second against his chest. This operation was of most importance. His first step for his revenge. Without this, all his hard work woulde to waste. He must think of a way to divert the police¡¯s attention.


    "I know Jaqi Leric of CISU!" Lance said, his voice was loud intended for the second officer to stop his search.


    "Ms. Jaqi?" The first officer asked.


    He did not know if the diversion was effective but the second officer seemed to discontinue his search maybe shocked by hearing the name.


    Apparently, they knew Jaqi. And frantically, Lance should know the next steps on how to answer their questions pertaining to Jaqi¡¯s name.


    Only questions remained for Lance, ¡¯Who is Jaqi Leric!¡¯

 Chapter 40: Kilotonic

    The first police questioned Lance about his affiliation with Jaqi Leric, the founder of CISU.


    "I met her at SARS when I had my registrations for my promotion. And she offered some subjects for me to augment my Academic status and scientist Level. But I know her. She is the founder of Committee for Illegal Scraps Use."


    "If ya know her, let me call her on cell." The police dialed his phone and it rang.


    "Hello, good evening Miss Jaqi, this is Officer Mat Brown of Precinct 13," the officer paused, "Yeah, I know, I know, ma¡¯am. Apologies for calling you this night but there is a situation I would like you to confirm."


    Then Lance heard the imperceptible replies from the other end of the phone. The officer seemed to be nervous speaking a girl with utmost authority. He anticipated that he might have to speak to Jaqi via cell phone.


    "Yes, ma¡¯am. Yes, ma¡¯am. I know. Yeah, he is here with me. Lance Berkley of Steelpoint," The officer gave the phone to Lance and he received it.


    "Miss Jaqi," Lance called.


    "Hey, you. Why the police are calling me this time of night?" Jaqi asked but her voice was soft with no hint of resentment.


    "They are just doing their jobs, Miss Jaqi. And I am here just essing the Scrap Yard Tier 2 as I am just excited to know what¡¯s in here."


    "Yeah, you can look at the information in your Cloud Archive installed by Mari the other day. If you wanna know the information about the yards."


    "Yes, I know. I have already read the perks information."


    "They were just asking about a transaction of Jonaz Enterprises Garbage truck happened to be with you tonight, are you alright?" Her voice was concerned.


    "Yes, I am. The Garbage truckers just wanted my assistance in finding the right scraps for them here in Tier 2. This is this first time, as their new office instructions too, so they are here unscheduled."


    "Listen, I don¡¯t know what the problem is, but, I will talk to the officer and sort this out. You¡¯ll be fine, I will call the police off your asses. But mind you, Jonaz Enterprises is being monitored by officials. So, my department assists these investigations especially when smuggling or illegal trade is happening in the City."


    "What are you exactly?" Lance asked, confused about everything that she had said. However, his initial assessment was that Jaqi had a significant position in the Government and CISU was not a made-up organization.


    It was clear also with how the police officers stuttered upon hearing her voice over the phone.


    "I will exin to you everything. Come to Sky Corp Tower in Blooms next week and I will tell you everything you wanna know about me, ok?"


    Lance responded with an agreement. However, he was not sure if he could squeeze in a visit next week. The scrap quotas were up by about 20% and he needs to grind more to achieve the targets.


    "Don¡¯t worry, Lance. I have your back. I just hated these authorities pressuring Scientists like us and being bullied. The Corporation will have a hand on this, just they wait."


    "No, actually it¡¯s fine, Miss Jaqi. They were just doing their jobs. I mean, I understand their hard work as one of the Caravans was ambushst night if you heard the news."


    "Yeah, I heard them. It¡¯s unfortunate. But anyway that¡¯s another discussion that we need to tackle when you visit me. I want you in this research team that I have been spearheading."


    ¡¯A research team? Spearheading? This is so much for a little girl. Moreover, a founder of an authorized group by the Government?¡¯ Lance was perturbed with series of questions.


    Lance expressed his gratitude and gave the Cell phone back to the police officer. The officer was thankful though for also giving them credit for their stringent investigation.


    The officer and Jaqi in the other line had a few exchanges of conversations, or rather the police officer was the apparent receiver of Jaqi¡¯s series of seemingly loud verbal reprimands.


    She¡¯s ferocious.


    The officer seemed toply with what Jaqi said. Lance saw a series of affirmations from the officer and a few awkward smiles as he spoke some statements like, "Apologies for the disturbance," "I have confirmed his identity, he is good to go." And the like.


    The Officer smiled to him with that forceful crease on his face as they finished their conversation with CISU¡¯s founder. Then he signaled his partner to depart and also convinced the two thugs to go on their merry way.


    The Garbage truck departed with Rigor without furtherints and threats. The rebels stepped out from the mantle of darkness behind the scrap piles after the coast was clear.


    "First delivery is a sess!" Lance said to Joe.


    Joe smiled back.


    "Let¡¯s go kid, this ce gives me the creeps," Damian mused, and waved his obscuredrades at the other side of the road.


    "Nah, I will just stay here and scrap. This is my haven now," Lance responded.


    Damian nodded and they went out together with the other rebels back to their bases.


    "Master, Jonaz Enterprises transferred their payment already. 20 Zelkians for 120 units each. A total of 2400 units." Jasper reported.


    That was fast.


    Lance transferred payments to Joe for 100 units, and his payment for the rats for another 100 units. Then to Damian for hauling thecking Zelkians towards Axiom Trench for 500 units. All online transfers.


    He scoured the scrap piles below the cold dark skies. It was his duty, it was his purpose.


    "Jasper, run scrap rarity again," Lancemanded.


    ____________________________________________


    Scrap Yard Tier 2


    Common level Scraps: 40%


    Umon Level Scraps: 58%


    Rare Level Scraps: 2%


    Masterworks Level Scraps: 0%


    ___________________________________________


    It was way better than the Scrap Yard Tier 1 which only held 20% Umon level scraps and 0% Rare and Masterworks level. It was just one in a millionth chance that Lance was able to scrap the Infused Electroma Battery.


    ¡¯Ok Lance, think, think, think,¡¯ Lance convinced himself. His scrapping should be more efficient now.


    "Jasper, scan high-tier service robots, concentrate on the New Gen Residential robotic Maids scrap parts," Lancemanded Jasper.


    "Scanning master¡­ May I know the reason?" Jasper asked.


    "These Robotic Maids were only purchased by high echelons, especially the New Gens. These parts were mostly rare and umon level parts to arrive in aesthetic forms and efficient function. Once these New Gens had exhausted their effective shelf life, these high-ssers would scrap them and rece them with another one. These alsoe with insurance policies, soaring high prices,"


    "Got it, Master. Found numerous of them. Sending scans to your Iris holograph," Jasper said.


    "Perfect!" Lance said and darted to the nearest Robotic Maid scrap. He pulled amon level sheet above the separated Robot¡¯s chest, with its limbs detached.


    Lance felt the exquisiteness of the material, the consistency of the contours of the casing¡¯s form. Magnificently made. A metal made of umon andmon raw materials.


    He took out his toolbox from his knapsack. It was not actually a box but it was a cylindrical metallic fixture that hold all his usable tools for scrapping. Not so bulky and easy to hide inside his knapsack. Your journey continues at m v|l-e¡¯m,p| y- r


    It had a digital disy of the tools inside the cylindrical casing. Then he chose the screwdriver. A small hatch opened and released a screwdriver.


    It was also battery-powered so it was fast and easy for Lance to unscrew the casing. He inspected the casing too and scanned it with Jasper¡¯s drive.


    ___________________________________________________


    Component: Smooth Silver metallic casing


    Level: Umon Level


    Metallicposition: Detected 15mon and umon raw materials. But unknown to the database.


    _____________________________________________________


    "Jasper, let¡¯s inventory this," Lance said. He needs to record his inventories for him to inspect them after his scrapping activities. Some of his umon finds were so small, however, with significant values.


    Opening the casing, he found a motherboard, a battery source, a Kilotonic power capacitor, Gold-wired Integrated circuits, and unkempt moldings and wirings interconnected with the spare parts.


    "Scrapping Gold-wired ICs?" He said to himself. He questioned the Corporation and even the manufacturers why they don¡¯t just reuse this for manufacturing.


    "It could be theseponents were running at an ultrafast pace as AI robots need information passing through conductors. Through time, Gold wires would oxidize. These were contaminated Gold, not the same Gold before the Nuclear World War." He answered himself.


    It was not the same Gold anymore. The Gold before the pre-nuclear eras were way more precious than what they used in circuitries.


    "Why do they use Gold instead of Copper as wires, Master? It seemed so impractical, cost-wise for the production," Jasper inquired.


    "It¡¯smon knowledge Jasper that Gold wires are more susceptible to oxidation for high-speed data transfers. These wires could withstand erratic and high energy surges through them than Copper can." Lance answered.


    "Very informative, master," Jasper praised.


    "Wait a minute!" Lance said as he took out the Kilotonic Power Capacitor. He read thebels of the saidponent. It was highly explosive if exposed to highlybustible materials.


    "Jasper, we need firepower to mine the salts next month," Lance said.


    Another brilliant idea came to his creative mind.

 Chapter 41: Fabrication

    "Chemical Sciences, Gic Studies, even Geological sciences, even Botany, were carried by the Lost Engineers. They said that the Lost Engineers were a group of great minds that helped formed the foundations of the Corporation. The originating Corporation Orders, the manufacturing nts establishments, they helped before all of this.


    They left because, I think, they can¡¯t understand how the Corporation is being managed. It was Menks and his mentor who had created cruel Orders, and immoral Executions, and even his projects are politically driven.


    Erik Berkley to his son


    ***


    He thought of a hover wheelbarrow. What he had was wheeled, hardly sumbing to steep and rocky roads from the scraps towards his home. It was a long walk and pushing the borrow with 10 kg of Smooth Silver Casings had provided him thigh aches after.


    He estimated about two-mile hike, passing through the row of cabins where he would frequently turn left and right. Then, into the cobbled path that would take one to the Tier 1 scrap yard and the other turn would take the sector zone where his cabin would be.


    With them were three kilotonic power capacitors, each one had a size as long as his arms. They were not rare-level materials, only umon. However, a few moreponents would create a weapon of destruction.


    Bombs were regted in Axe Central City, and the ones that exploded, created destructive kic energy. They don¡¯t manufacture those things as it provided a chronic trauma experience to the citizens due to the religious preachings of how the Biological Nuclear unfolded.


    The religious sects were redundant about how they preached the stories. The more they borate the stories, the more it would sound bullshit.


    He pushed the wheelbarrow further inside his cabin as the door hissed to open. Inside his 24 square-meter cabin heaved scraps of different materials.


    One would be puzzled to even think of organizing the mess inside the confines of his home. Half of his bedy metallic pipes,mon-level that supposedly he could smelt them and modified into desirable forms required by his clients.


    There were a lot of purchase orders, pending. Despite the messiness, Lance found it satisfying to have the scrapponents within his walls as it would be construed that business was booming.


    On the other side of the room, just a few steps away, where his aquarium situated. His Roflo was floating on the surface of the water.


    ¡¯I gotta schedule my defense next month too. Maybe I can jump my rankings.¡¯


    He parked the wheelbarrow beside his one-chaired sofa and threw himself to the softness of his cushion.


    "Master, are you not going to transfer to the Apartments?" Jasper knew that being a scrapper 2 had the benefit of acquiring better amodation.


    "It¡¯s impractical, Jasper. I would have to transfer all of this to the new apartment and it would take me a little farther from the scrap yard Tier 2," Lance responded sheepishly, almost sumbing to his drowsiness.


    As half of his body sank in thefort of his cushion, he exhaled deep. His thoughts were raced towards making a bomb. Mining the Broadridge Mountain could be dangerous for them and explosives woulde in handy. Not only by using them against Abominants but by mining.


    Explosives would eliminate half of theirborious digging.


    As the Salt Caravans were ambushed sessfully by the Abominants, this would shorten the supply of Salt. Hence, a shortage in producing soft water is a requirement for water potability.


    Lance knew that such a shortage would drive the WWMDs to filter wastewater and shorten the supply of drinking water.


    Therefore, the shortened water supply will then be manipted by forcing the supply to the inders and decrease supply to themoners.


    A second ¡¯death by thirst¡¯ would surely ensue in theing months.


    Lance would take the matter to his own hands. First, by making bombs.


    "Jasper, in your database, tell me theponents of making a bomb. Our kilotonic power capacitor is our explosive." Lance said as he stared nkly at the ceiling and enjoyed theforting embrace of his cushion.


    "Master, I only have generic information on how to build a bomb. You will need an initiator, a battery for the trigger, casings, switch, and fragmentation."


    "Fragmentation? If electricity could only trigger stunning the Abominants for a few minutes, why not make a bomb that would kill them or make them unconscious?" Lance asked, not to Jasper but to himself.


    "It is regted boss, CO articles regarding Weapon¡¯s Manufacturing, Section, Bombs."


    "Yeah, I know that, Jasper. Explosives, if used in the City, would disrupt the bnce of the atmospheric pressure. It would maybe create a vacuum inside and disharmonize the airflow from outside the walls to the inside," It was only his theoretical guess.


    "Ok, Master. And what would be your fragmentation?" Jasper asked.


    "Abominant Poison and the other one would be restriction cables. The police only had theirsers and stunning weapons." Lance said.


    "How can you make such weapon, master? The poison? You said that such Scientific study was hidden by the Lost Engineers," Jasper retorted.


    "I know. But I might know someone that has ess to that Lost Technology." Lance said.


    "Who might that be, Master?" Jasper asked.


    "The Seer. I gotta go see her again," Lance mused. "But first, I gotta customize the Smooth Silvers first."


    He hauled himself from the couch and pushed his wheel borrow at the side of his fabrication table.


    The mechanical robotic arms whirred as he activated the holographic features of the table. He ced the Smooth Silver casing on top of it and the holographic designs adjusted, creating initial readings, weight identification, material dimensions, and others.


    The details were avable to the user of the fabrication table.


    Then Lance adjusted his settings as he wanted to modify the form into something he could market. Even if the market needs of such materials was still unknown, he had an inclination of how to market this kind of metal based on his experience.


    "Master, where are you going to market this metal?" Jasper asked.


    "Of course to Steamhaven District," Lance responded. Steamhaven District was an Ind sector that wasposed majorly of manufacturing establishments, metal factories,ponent fabrications, and even the manufacturing of weapons and hovercrafts for the police force.


    "Whyn¡¯t the Garbage collectors from the citizens would directly deliver the robotic trash to Steamhaven?" Jasper asked.


    "That¡¯s actually a good question, Jasper," Lance praised, "The Corporation in coordination with the Government had made a system to make scrapping trade and recycling materials much easier. If the Garbage haulers would deliver the scraps directly to Steamhaven, the current factories don¡¯t know what to do with it. First, it is tedious for them to segregate usable scraps.


    Secondly, where are they going to put the segregated scraps? Thirdly, they don¡¯t know what to do with the approved scrap materials. They have to fabricate it into desirable forms. Fourth, they don¡¯t have that kind ofrge-scale fabrication equipment. It would be a waste of operational flow."


    "Lastly, what I can think of, is the challenge in logistics in hauling garbage. The garbage truckers don¡¯t segregate the garbage to the liking of their respective drop-offs. It is much easier for them to just deliver them to scrap yards."


    The damaged, dented, and dirty Smooth Silver Casing would be cleaned and repaired by the fabrication table. The robotic arms that held the sensor on its end, detected the undesirable qualities of the casing. The second robotic arm would spray anti-rust and dirt on the affected part. A white foam was dispersed from its nozzle and stayed on the casing¡¯s surface.


    One could see the chemical reaction taking effect on the dirty parts of the casing like it was taking a bath.


    Afterward, the third robotic arm would wash all the foams on its surface. The table¡¯s design would restrict the sshes of water beyond its boundaries, keeping the surroundings dry.


    Then another robotic arm blew pressurized air towards the casing eliminating all droplets of water left.


    There were only four arms of the fabrication table. Then the nozzles were changed automatically. Then a spraying nozzle was selected with the desired color inside the cylinder. Then it sprayed all over the casing.


    And after a few touches,minate it, blow dry again to harden whatever shred of wetmination, then polish.


    The Chest casing of the Robotic maid looked new and fresh.


    The same process goes with his other harvested metallic casings.


    Lance would seal them in seble stic bags to preserve their quality. Quality was key for him. It was his best trait as a scrapper.


    "How much are you gonna charge that for?" Jasper asked.


    "25 units each, Jasper. That¡¯s a fair price," Lance said.


    "Why is the price low, Master? It looks new." Jasper retorted.


    "That is the beauty of buying scraps, Jasper. For the manufacturers, it is much cheaper to acquire scraps than forming new ones."


    He ced his finished products on the side along with the other pending scrap materials for sale.


    ¡¯I must have been so busy,¡¯ Lance sighed upon the thought of having another scrap pile inside his cabin.


    Then he sawmon-grade scrap thick sheets ced on the side of the wall.


    "Ok, Jasper. I know what to do," Lance said.


    "What is it, Master?"


    "I am gonna make those metal scraps to baseball sizes. We are going to make a bomb. But first, we need to grasp the poison-making technology first. We will go to the Seer."


    "Why the Seer, Master?"


    "Have you seen the cybeic materials on her thighs and legs? It¡¯s a cyborg technology. Such technology was included in the fields hidden by the Lost Engineers. Somehow, she can maybe give us information about them. I am gonna find the Lost Engineers"

 Chapter 42: Aiveez

    "You are back again, Son of Erik," The Seer said.


    She wore the same long clothes, up to her shins, the colorful ones but the quality of the garment used was not as silky smooth as the high ssers.


    She also had numerous colored beads that hung on her neck and her wrists. Her face emanated like a glow of friendliness as if seeing the son of Erik Berkley for the first time.


    "I need information from you, Seer," Lance had his curt bow. With him on his journey were Damian and George. Joe was tending with the newly born Zelklings, as he likes to call them, and was also harvesting captured rats from the rebel members.


    "I am d that youe here and thank you face to face about your businesses here in Axiom. I hope that you have not encounter an Abominant again on your way here," Seer said cheerfully.


    Lance had his second Tyllrium delivery and bought another truckload of it. The Trench merchants were happy to sell all their collected Tyllrium from various unknown sources.


    "If information you like, I can offer what I have," Seer smiled.


    "I will need to know about the Lost Engineers," Lance said.


    The Seer¡¯s face turned slightly sour.


    "How do you know that I know about the Lost Engineers?" The Seer asked.


    "The Cybeic constructs of your thighs and pelvis that supported your stance. The Corporation never had one sessful project tobine metallicponents with organic flesh."


    The seer had this long stare towards the inquisitive kid. However, they were some d, thanking, eyes like the ones during receiving gifts on your birthday kind of eyes. Partnered by a small smile that creased across her face.


    "Maybe it¡¯s time to let you know about them. I do not really know their whereabouts or their location. But they shed information about a few of their knowledge here in Axiom Trench. They say they wanna save the world. It¡¯s the reason that they are extending help to the Outsiders. Teaching us ways on how to survive on our own."


    "So you have seen one of them?" Lance asked.


    "Fortunately, two of them. One of them was the Botanist and the other was a Geologist."


    "Where can I find them? I need information from their knowledge about how I can make poison," Lance reiterated. Find exclusive stories on mvl


    Seer¡¯s calm and soft demeanor turned into bursts ofughter. She almost cried when the kid said about poison. One of his goon,rge built, military-looking like Handsome, stood beside her, and released a chuckle together with her, probably due to his respect for the Seer.


    The Seer had this leniency about the way she moved, the way she spoke, and the way she handled her business with the people surrounding him. Even she had joked with the Doctor, the one who administered their chips beneath the skin of their nape.


    Despite that, the Trenchers had their utmost respect towards their leader, the Seer of Axiom.


    "Ok," herughter finally subsided. "Poison you say? About a decade ago, just after the fall of the original Axiom Trench at the hands of the Abominants, the merchants and all the operators that escaped the Trench trade were in hiding as the monsters ran the ce like their own. We went here, the nearest mountain ranges to hide ourselves from them.


    We kept our gas masks on as we were in hiding for months. We gathered all our food and tried to ration our supply for us to prolong further our lives."


    "But the two Scientists came to us and saved us. The Botanist had her seedlings that could nullify the contaminated air in a certain area. She said that the contaminated air serves as food for these nts. Hybrid types, she said."


    "We nted them, the seedlings. Right here in this cave. As the Geologist suggested this ce. He said there is something in the mountains that the Abominants are weak. I am not sure what it really means but it was effective. We haven¡¯t had an Abominant attack since."


    "I see the MAFs on the ceiling of the cave, were they the ones that filtered the air inside?" Lance asked.


    "Yes, it¡¯s true. Another Lost Engineer, a few years ago, had made the adjustments for it to function properly. The nts did their job for many years. But as the years passed and the poption here in Axiom almost tripled, the contaminated air had risen, as the counters suggested."


    "And our method of propagation had been difficult for us to mass produce those nts as the soil was also contaminated."


    "If only she can visit again, maybe she can solve the problem." The Seer continued.


    "The nts, Seer. Where are they?" Lance asked.


    "We nted in all of the corners of this cave. We are surrounded by these nts. But I have some of it for propagation. Come!"


    The Seer stood up from her chair and the cybeic mechanism activated again and soothed herborious stand. The whirring sound loomed, metallic materials harmoniously working together with human flesh.


    Lance followed to the back of the tent. A translucent stic curtain concealed a micront propagation.


    ¡¯What is this?¡¯ Lance thought upon the site of high-powered lights outside the translucent ceiling that housed the seedlings in seedbeds and full-grown nts in individual pots.


    The high-powered lights emitted heat and the same heat came in through the translucent stic covers and was trapped inside the stic housing, as Lance would call it at first.


    "What is this?" Lance asked.


    "This is what they call the Greenhouse Effect," The Seer said as she ambled inside the stic house.


    "It¡¯s hot in here," Lance said as he followed suit.


    "Of course, it is the technology of nt nursery. The heat trapped in this greenhouse will produce moisture and eventually create a humid environment, hence, sufficing the atmospheric needs of the nt."


    Lance was speechless. It was his first time to actually experience inside a greenhouse and the sight of growing nts.


    "As we all know, our soil cannot grow trees. Only the small ones, the ferns, the root crops, because of the nutritive capability of our soil. The Botanist had stressed out about the contaminated soil, cursing like it was the end of the world. Well, it is the end of the world."


    "What are these nts?" Lance asked.


    Almost seven inches long withrge leaves drooping towards the soil. The leaves were multicolored; withbinations of red, green, and blue. The smell was fragrant, surprisingly, as it would not match the deceiving form of the nt.


    "We call these Aiveez. Fragrant is it not?" The Seer said.


    The seedlings, just an inch long, had luminous leaves like they were fireflies on the ground, emitting a bluish color.


    It exined the multicolored environment of the Axiom Trench. Lance thought that all colored lights were only emitted by the neon lights that they ced on their trading huts.


    The bluish colors, that were ced in the rocky walls and corners were growing seedlings. They helped filtered the atmosphere inside the enclosed cave.


    "Don¡¯t be deceived by their looks, son of Erik," The Seer said as Lance inspected each one of them with his fingers training softly to the delicate leaves of the glowing seedlings.


    "Why?" Lance asked.


    "They filtered the contaminated air. As the Botanist exined, he used these nts to fend off the Abominants in the Axiom Trench further away from this ce. These nts were repents of the Abominants, especially in their adult stage of the nt."


    "That¡¯s a start," Lance said.


    "Not only that, she said that this is poison for the Abominants. She said about the chemical that contaminated the air, and also that coursed through the blood of these creatures had these mutated cells. And these mutated cells seemed to disintegrate if mixed with the Aiveez nectar."


    ¡¯Poison for Abominants,¡¯ Lance thought.


    "What about humans, is it harmful to us?" Lance asked.


    "The Botanist extracted the nectar from the Aiveez and drank it. I was surprised that she was not affected at all."


    "Perfect. How can I extract the nectar?" Lance asked.


    The Seer took out one of the adult Aiveez from one pot. Upside down, she squeezed the nectar out into a bottle. A viscous bluish liquid oozed out from the nt and gradually filled the jar.


    "Remember, the soil is contaminated. No nt that can grow in a contaminated soil. The Botanist taught me to mix the nectar into the soil and the contamination would disappear. And as the liquid degrades, it would produce nutrients to the other nts."


    Lance was speechless. It was what he was looking for. Perfect for his weapon.


    "If you are looking for poison, this is the one," The Seer said.


    "How can I propagate these?"


    "Well, for starters, son of Erik. You will need a bigger space for you to farm Aiveez." The Seer responded.


    "I will take all of them," Lance said.


    "There is no free in Axiom, son of Erik. As you have already know," the Seer snorted. "One seedling is two units each."


    "What about a full-grown?"


    "50 units each," The Seer had her weird smile again. The delight grew back tenfold this time.


    "I will be needing 10 of the adults," Lance said.


    "Remember, you need to have also a nutritive soil for its seedlings. 10 units per sack."


    Lance nodded and shook the Seer¡¯s hand. "Deal."


    "Remember, the adults grow shoots and that¡¯s the start of propagating them." The Seer reminded.

 Chapter 43: Bomb

    Three dayster.


    ***


    He can breathe better. He surrendered himself to the cushion of his massage chair. His massage chair served as his throne, a king of his little kingdom. His constituents; were scrap piles, Aiveez seedlings, and a caged Zelkian.


    The room was slightly bigger than before. He was in his new apartment.


    Nothing fancy, just a one-bedroom, one bathroom, and the kitchen was converted into his fabrication area, where his fabrication table now situates. The living room held his massage chair and the piles of pending scraps for selling.


    Arranged in his chaotic kind of way.


    His sight just yed along with the illumination of his room and the corners of his ceiling. It was a little bit morefortable than the studio-type cabin he once had.


    However, regardless of the size of his apartment, and three floors up from the ground, the stench of Steelpoint District still heaved outside.


    Fragrance filled the air as seedlings secreted an imperceptible mist wafting invisibly in the confines of his apartment¡ªno need for a Zelkian to fend off the annoying intrusion of Rattus. The Aiveez seedlings could do the trick, theoretically.


    However, he housed still a Zelkian in the EazyCage unit. For his experimentation purposes.


    He was certain that the mist could repel Abominated creatures. That¡¯s one problem solved - the safeguard of his food supply.


    It was unnned to avail the perks of having an apartment. It was unnecessary at first, and the logistics of the transfer were costly, 50 units, and he hated to do house arrangements.


    He needed more furniture for a bigger space. Luckily, he had his ShowerSmart installed where he could enjoy a cold shower for a long time without wasting a scant resource.


    Well, in his case, not anymore. His one room was converted to his mini greenhouse where the seedlings were nted. He had these racks that amodated the pots with soil and sufficient for seedling¡¯s nutrients.


    The couch was his bed now.


    He had to work. The massage chair was a trap. It ate away significant time procrastinating. He shrugged the thought and forced a surge of motivation from the unknown depths of his consciousness.


    A shower was much needed where he could cool himself and wash away the toxins that he got from the outside.


    The shower head was somehow calling him to relish a sprinkle of water on his smelly head. It was inviting.


    No.


    He hauled himself up and went directly to his fabrication table, without looking at any piled scraps on his peripherals.


    ¡¯A lot to do. Eyes on the price!¡¯ He thought.


    "Jasper, scan materials if this suffices our bomb project," Lance said.


    "Scanning¡­" Jasper responded.


    ___________________________________________________________________


    Kilotonic Capacitor - [Explosive] Highlybustible material


    Umon V15 Maic Contactor ¨C [switch] Automatic trigger device.


    Common Scrap metal ¨C [bomb casing] Scrapped from the yard


    Common Digital trigger mechanism ¨C [initiator] Scrapped from the yard


    Unknown Level Aiveez nectar ¨C [Fragmentation] From Aiveez adult flower.


    ___________________________________________________________________


    The day after he visited Axiom Trench, his excitementpelled him to scrap for the remaining bombponents. The scrap metal for his bomb casings were easy to scour. What was challenging was the V15 Maic Contactor and the more than 50% shelf life of Kilotonic Capacitor.


    The V15 Maic Contactors were found in digital residential cleaners that had a mechanical switching device that enabled the unit to turn off at a given time. These were automatic cleaners that mopped the floor, sprayed detergent or wax, and applied the cleaning agents in a programmed sequence.


    These type of equipment were still availed by the high-ssers. Almost automatically, these scrapped units found their way to the Scrapyard Tier 2 and Tier 3.


    Lance was persistent though. Moreover, Jasper had helped a lot in scanning for the desired finds. The Tier 2 Gen AI, Jasper, came in handy for his efficiency in scrapping.


    "I think you have everything you need to form a bomb prototype, Master. The question is, how can you make the nectar as your fragmentation?"


    "Easy, Jasper. Although, its not easy but the fabrication table will do it for us. We will contain the nectar in small fragile casings. Once our bomb detonates, these casings with nectar will be spread out at a certain coverage and disintegrating the fragile casings thus, releasing the nectar. The nectar will be a mist once it is exposed as the kic energy of the bomb will do the trick."


    "But first, we need to test the nectar if it really kill an abominated flesh," Lance continued.


    "How will you do that, master?"


    "The Zelkian."


    He ced the EazyCage unit on the Fabrication table. He opened the casing of the unit and exposed a primary metallic cage with the Zelkian inside.


    Lance controlled the robotic arms of his fabrication table, with one attached to a scalpel. The second arm went through the gaps between the bars and grabbed the Zelkian¡¯s hind foot.


    It squirmed in utter surprise and fear. But the cage was sturdy enough that the Zelkian was seized without a way to escape.


    Although the Zelkian rattled the cage with its foot held by the robotic arm, immovable, the first arm with the scalpel invaded the confines of the primary cage and scraped the foreskin of the said creature.


    The creature was weakening. It was the invisible mist secretions.


    Then the arms retracted after a sessful harvest. Afterward, Lance closed the EazyCage and ced the harvested sample in a petri dish.


    The Zelkian was saved.


    The third robotic arm was attached to a magnifying ss as for the controller¡¯s better magnified view of the nectar¡¯s effectivity.


    "Pouring, the nectar now," Lance had the bluish viscous liquid in a test tube and started pouring towards the sample.


    As the nectar mixed with the Abominated Zelkian flesh, the ck miasma appeared right before an area of the creature¡¯s foreskin disintegrated.


    "Jasper, scan the sample," Lancemanded


    "Master, I can see the contaminated matter undergone nuclear degradation as the nectar cells contaminated them. Confirmed. It is a poison for the Abominated creatures."


    "Ok, let¡¯smence fabrication," Lance said.


    Lance programmed the fabrication table to his desirable input. It was difficult to createpatibility between the scrapponents. Well for him, it was an art. As a scrapper for a year, he treated his knowledge of scrapponents and their uses as an art.


    His canvass was the metallic scraps andponents while his paint brushes were the robotic arms of his fabrication table.


    The design was intricate to fabricate a prototype bomb. He had his casings asrge as a football and the challenge was to design theponents to fit them perfectly in a small sphere.


    Luckily, the fabrication table with the aid of five robotic arms was designed to convey uracy.


    For an hour of calibration and tedious fitting ofponents, the prototype was finally finished.


    A poison bomb, lying dormant on the table.


    "Jasper, scan forpatibility. Check connectivity," Lance asked.


    "Scanning¡­." Jasper said, responded after a few seconds, "Circuit continuity is 100%, Master. Switches and Initiator is in perfect connection with our explosive. Kilotonic Capacitor is at 70%busting efficiency. It can blow if triggered."


    "All we need to do is test it," Lance said.


    He took the sample and went out. It was night time and the scrap yard Tier 2 was quiet. He let himself in by the mercy of his registration.


    In a secluded corner where no one would see, Lance positioned himself with a bomb on his hand.


    The coldness of the night air haunts him still, and the ominous dark corners of the streets that connected his apartment and the Scrapyard.


    Despite that, he was prepared to face any criminals that would cross his way.


    ¡¯Don¡¯te closer. I have an explosive in my hand,¡¯ Lance thought of a way to fend off them. He would throw the bomb if a criminal individual persisted. Bombs were regted, not a single one existed in the hands of amoner. Hence, the possibility that the potential perps would not believe it.


    Fortunately, the night was peaceful and no unexpected harm had crossed his path.


    Or else, it was the best way to test his bomb. The bluish mist would not kill a perp but the st would certainly stun and bruise the persistent individual.


    "Jasper, brace yourself. Calcte st radius," Lance said as he stood on a wide clearing enough to test a hand explosive.


    He pressed the trigger and an LED light blinked. He designed the bomb to explode in five seconds.


    He threw the bomb, farther to where he stood.


    Boom!


    The explosive was not deafening; however, it would wake nearby cats and rats nesting behind the scrap piles. It was not the best part, the blue mist spread into the air sessfully. Painting the atmosphere within its radial coverage of bluish spray.


    "Master, the st radius is 3 meters."


    Lance smiled towards the sight, enjoying the specs of blue mist residue subsided towards the ground.


    It was a sess!


    "It is time to mine Salt! Let¡¯s gather the crew!"

 Chapter 44: Council

    Tyllrium business was consistent, luckily there were no trading mishaps. For every delivery to Grebert in Wraithport, he would have profits of 900 units.


    It was his second delivery now and received his second payment. The recipient was able to eliminate the problem of unsterilized potable water as Tyllrium was used as an alternative for UV lights, ten times more powerful.


    He thought of the air ¨C the contaminated air. The Multifunctional Air Filters (MAF), the gigantic hovering equipment likerge hot air balloons hanging and immovable, had provided a stable clean air supply within the walls of Axe Central City.


    However, it only suffices a limited coverage and manufacturing one MAF would be so expensive that it would probably exhaust the funding of the City, sacrificing other economic programs.


    ¡¯There should be a better way to cleanse the air,¡¯ Lance thought. And upon the notion of it, it would nullify the greatest achievement of a subtle Government tyrant, Levi Menks of the Corporation.


    ¡¯Now that would be the start of the fall of Menks,¡¯ He thought and it raced his heart. It fueled his motivation and such a sight would be the noblest thing he could achieve.


    ¡¯Small steps,¡¯ He remembered the teachings from his father. Every day, his father¡¯s teachings resounded in his mind like clockwork.


    Checking on his holographic logs, he navigated to his ounts.


    ______________________________________


    Scientist Level: Scrapper 2


    Avable Currency: 1700 units


    ______________________________________


    He shrugged. For a month of grinding, it seemed his ount had not grown significantly. It was still far to purchase the Energy elerator and otherponents that would create a reliable perpetuating power source.


    Then he realized that he had just enrolled as a Scrapper 2 which he spent 1000 units for his registration and another 700 units for fixing his trade permit processing for Jonaz Enterprises¡¯ business front.


    In addition, his recent transaction with the Seer, bought 10 full grown Aiveez nt and some seedlings, about 600 units.


    ¡¯Business investments,¡¯ He convinced himself.


    Running an illegal business was like riding a motorcycle. If you fall asleep, you will fall. If your tire collides with a stray animal, you will fall, and many other factors would contribute to the inevitable failure. Unless nothing goes wrong.


    His Tyllrium trading business would contribute 900 units per month of all expenses, and his Zelkian farming would provide him with around 1000 units monthly.


    A total of 1900 units per month. But he would had to pay for his groceries, then he would pay for the team of volunteers for his Salt mining mission.


    Expectedly, he already had 3 breeders, female Zelkians, that would increase his farm production by 30%. The Mafia¡¯s requirement of 20 Zelkians will be sufficed by his farm.


    But the second delivery would still materialize, after 4 weeks.


    Despite the minor predicaments, it would not demotivate a persistent mindset.


    Well, he and Grebert had made a deal about Salt supply through a ck market deal, preventing further scrutiny by authorities. Such mining activity would be unregted by the Government and would only be organized by Lance and the rebels.


    Grebert of course would have his fair share.


    The Government had not delivered four truckloads of Salt for the past weeks as the Abominants had ambushed the caravan. The citizens were only concerned about the activity of Abominants outside the walls, and they only knew the Salt was only used for kitchen condiments.


    ¡¯We will be eating nd processed food theseing weeks,¡¯ The citizens would joke about it.


    The News had broadcasted the attacks and it created a stir among the citizens. However, the News and the Government was not able to emphasize the magnitude of the Salt supply shortage.


    Oblivious to the majority, theck of Salt would notplete the filtration cycle of potable water in Wastewater Management Departments (WWMD).


    Thus, a shortage of drinking water supply was inevitable.


    They kept it a secret that wastewater was recycled to supply drinking water for the citizens. hical to even think about it, would churn every stomach of utter disgust.


    Such an event would be unimaginable. What the citizens knew was that the water supplied from the deep wells harvest was sufficient enough for a 20 million poption.


    One of the privileged who knew this was Lance. Hence, the supply of salt was of grave importance. Otherwise, those who would suffer greatly of thirst would be the Commoners.


    "Are you sure about this, kid?" Jefferson asked.


    "What will happen if Abominants attack the caravan like what happened on the North Mountain?" An old Rebel council asked.


    "Do you have a n on how to stop these attacks?" Another council member asked.


    His knees again gave away his confidence. He felt them shivering beneath his jeans, although imperceptible from the circling council members of the Truth Seekers. There were five of them, the founders of the cause.


    "Lance is right," Jefferson spoke. That one voice that everybody would be silenced and listen to, shutting their minor side conversations. "We need to farm Salt for ourselves. This is not for the City alone but for our members and themoners. We will suffer greatly if there will be a shortage of water supply in theing months."


    "I am sure the Government will send again a mining team to the North mountain and would strengthen their defenses to protect the caravan," A female council member said, strongly, and with utter authority.


    "No, Akira," Jefferson retorted. "Let us not put our faith solely unto the Government. Demetrian Season ising and the Abominant¡¯s activity will be increased. And if the Government decides that they will let the season pass and mine in January, then we will be doomed in December. Many will perish. Thousands."


    The Seasons shifted so drastically that December season would increase the hours of darkness and decrease the temperature to almost zero degrees Celsius, while other seasons were warm and arid.


    The wells will be frozen from below the ground and would decrease supply of 50%.


    Lance only knew this gruesome fact and the Rebel Council members. However, such information was only discreet to them and not to the ranks below them.


    "What the kid is proposing to us is to risk 20 soldiers in our ranks and do the mining ourselves in the North mountain? That is too much to ask. Is there no other way?" Akira raised.


    "No! Not in the North Mountain. We will mine in Broadridge Mountain, South," Lance spoke up.


    "Are there Salt deposits in that mountain?" The other council member asked.


    "Yes, there is," Jefferson answered. "It was his father who knew about the Salt deposits in Broadridge. Although, the Government have not look closely at that mountain because it is near Bay City."


    "Oh my God, Jefferson. Are you even considering this risk? Bay City is where the Hive is," Akira responded, her body leaning forward and piercing eyes towards their leader. Her hands clenched on the sides of her chair.


    "Yes, Akira. I am considering this. The kid has something to share, I believe this could help our battle against Abominants. We can share this with our brothers living outside the walls."


    Akira and the rest of the council members stared the kid standing in front of them. In his hand was not a bomb. It was a manual spraying device that held the bluish nectar.


    "This is the Aiveez¡¯ nectar. Seer of Axiom had shared this element to me and this could greatly help us against the Abominants.¡¯


    Lance squinted at Joe who held a cage of Rattus, an Abominated Rat. Joe ambled forward with the cage on his hand. The caged creature was then ced in front of Lance where every council member could see.


    "This Abominated rat, or what we call Rattus, will experience elerated cell degradation. I have seen this work in my own eyes with other Abominated species like the Zelkian and it somehow burned the flesh to ash, or any matter invisible by our naked eyes."


    Lance took careful step to the Abominant. Rattus was active, circling the cage, bouncing off against the four corners, and chittering his protruding teeth and ws against the metallic screens.


    Then he sprayed everything from the bottle, bathing the rat with bluish specks of liquid. The fragrance of the nectar-filled their nostrils as the council members had reacted.


    And what awed them was that the Abominated Rat squirmed in utter agony, ck miasma emerging from all exposed flesh that was blended with sampled liquid.


    Cries of the hopeless creature echoing within the halls of the Maintenance Deck where the rebels camp.


    "What¡¯s happening?" Akira asked, his eyes never left on the suffering creature.


    "It was the nectar invading through the muscle fibers and into its internal organs," Lance exined.


    "How?" Jefferson asked.


    "Such knowledge was hidden and Lost, along with the Lost Engineers," Lance answered.


    "The Lost Engineers are a myth. They don¡¯t exist. Even the Science they hold bears no meaning," Akira contested. The other council members were silent.


    But even Lance could not rebut her opinion.


    "I can¡¯t exin this phenomenon but I know this nectar works. And imagine this if it¡¯s a bomb." Lance said.


    "We¡¯ll test your bomb. If it works with 100 Rattuses, then we can proceed with your request. In addition, I will being with you in Salt Mining.

 Chapter 45: Traitor

    What could go wrong? Lance thought as he sat between Handsome and Damian in the back seat, and twenty Rebels in the other cargo trucks.


    Jefferson was in the forward cargo truck, leading the convoy.


    It¡¯s been their second day of traveling from the bowels of Axe Central City.


    Well, Jefferson promised that if his bomb would be sessful in killing a group of caged Rattuses for one detonation, then he would apany the Convoy.


    ¡¯What could go wrong?¡¯ Lance asked himself again. He had deep swallowed gulps this time as inside the cabin of the cargo truck had been quiet for a few hours.


    "Try to preserve your energy, kiddo," Handsome said with his gas mask on. That calm, nonchnt voice again almost reassured the kid that their journey would go well. "It¡¯s a long journey. I don¡¯t want you to pass out when we arrive in Broadridge."


    It was daytime. Hoping no Abominant activity woulde their way.


    nning the trip took the leaders for hours. Jefferson strategized their routes and their stops. The convoy had left early in the morning to catch daytime and prevent nighttime before they arrived at Axiom Trench.


    They spent the night in Axiom. It was where Handsome had joined them. The Trenchersughed at their objective. It was preposterous, actually.


    "Embarking on a suicide mission, that¡¯s heroic," Some Trenchers bullied their cause.


    Jefferson just let them be. These Outsiders were worse than low-lifers. They were criminals and the attempt to apprehend them was a waste of time.


    Bloodshed might ensue and would greatly affect their numbers.


    Hence, Jefferson just turned a blind eye to the Outsiders who mocked them.


    Luckily, the trenchers harvest their water in the mountains like an underground spring sits below where they camp. These waters were already filtered. Somehow, the harmful biological contamination had not reached beyond therge rocks below the ground.


    And these rocks underneath served as a natural filter for the water they harvested. The Geologist could have studied the location and the respective resources.


    Thus, harvesting Salt wasughable for them.


    "Salt? What a great way to die! Hahahaha!¡¯ Said the other Trencher.


    It was tedious, the route nning. Lance only nodded at them as Jefferson showed a holographic map of a fraction of the Oroz Continent and the locations of the three surviving cities.


    However, in this case, there was only one surviving city left. Terrabitha was in ruins or probably became a habitat for the creatures. And Bay City was known to amodate the nearest Abominant Hive.


    The Cabin was full, five of them, including him. They had their weapons and bullet-filled magazines. Lance had his double-barreled handgun, hisser hunting knife, and 5 of his Poison bombs.


    He made 20 of the Poison bombs and 15 of them were distributed by Jefferson to hisrades.


    Jefferson, as the leader of the Rebels, somehow swayed the Council members of the cause of their journey that even their leader would indulge.


    Jefferson was feared by the members, maybe because of his ex-military aura and his hand-picked rebels were somehow soldiers too.


    Lance only assumed by the way they follow their leader, like theirmanding officer.


    They moved quickly, embarking the vehicles almost synchronized and efficient.


    ¡¯What if he was wrong? What if there is no salt in Broadridge mountain,¡¯ Lance somehow developed negative thoughts as the journey prevailed.


    "Don¡¯t worry, kiddo. Wee prepared. Thanks to your inventions, we have a shot in fighting Abominants. Even Level threes," Handsome reassured.


    Maybe he recognized how the kid behaved. Lance was stiff, sitting in between them like a wooden nk.


    "Can¡¯t we go faster?" Lance asked Handsome. "We may catch nighttime here on the road."


    Handsome would know as Damian on the other hand only experienced travelling to Axiom Trench. Beyond the Trench, he had not yet journeyed.


    "I am afraid so. But ording to the map, there is a range of hills just along the borders of Asphodel forest and we camp there. The map suggests a cave would be best for us to hide."


    "Yeah, but Jefferson discussed that the convoy should speed up to at least 50 miles per hour. The speedometer is saying that we are only at 45 miles per hour."


    "Yeah, I know. The map did not show the challenging off-road that we are taking right now."


    Lance felt the asional bumps of their cargo truck, challenging the shocks of their vehicle. He could hear the squeaking of the hydraulic tubes as they moved up and down.


    "So that¡¯s why kid, we bring our guns. Hoping you have yours too," Damian interjected into their conversation.


    Lance checked his time frequently, disregarding the asional conversations from Damian. His mind was preupied with the horrors ahead.


    1700 H


    Silence filled the majority of their journey. Even the driver spoke only asionally, asking about his father.


    The Rebel ranks knew less about his father. To their knowledge, his father was only a member of the cause. Unknowingly, their survivability solely depended on his father¡¯s strategy underneath the walls.


    However, Lance did not like to borate his father¡¯s contribution to the rebels¡¯ cause.


    The silence inside the cabin had led him to think about the Abominants once again.


    The Salt Caravan was ambushed, days before. Maybe they will be ambushed too. Could his grenades work?


    The wolf. It struck in his thoughts like a lightning jolt.


    "Damian, I suspect that one of the rebel ranks is a traitor," Lance said but close to a whisper. The humming of the engine made their conversation indistinct from the overhearing ears in the front seat.


    "Why do you think that?" Damian retorted, also equalizing his voice to Lance.


    "Well, for starters. The Wolf Abominant. It slipped through the defenses. Why it happened is still a mystery until now. What I suspect is a traitor amongst the rebel ranks. He could have slipped the Wolf inside the tunnels and into the City."


    "That¡¯s impossible!" Damian eximed. The front passenger Rebel squinted at the back.


    Damian gave him a thumb-up and the snooping rebel disregarded them.


    "How do you think the Abominant passed the walls? It¡¯s on the Southern wing side, coincidentally, the rebel camp is below the Southern wing."


    "Whatever you are thinking, kiddo, it¡¯s impossible."


    "Shh¡­" Handsome interjected.


    Lance squinted back to his watch.


    1730 H


    Normally, the sun would retire during the onset of 1800 H. It was supposedly safe.


    Then the gooseflesh came, that emerged on his nape, and crawled down to his spine like spiders. The minute but many thuds of paw against grounds emerged like drums.


    ¡¯It is not yet dark, why?¡¯ Lance thought. He gulped saliva heavily.


    "Ready your weapons," Handsome suggested.


    Their vehicle was shaken by the sudden thumps at the nks. The kid felt his body swayed from the strong colliding force against their 6-wheeler vehicle. Lance saw the forward truck was shaken too by the pursuing groundlings, bumping their bodies against the cargo truck.


    The forward dump truck held rebel soldiers in its dump box. They fired their weapons, and the silence became chaos. The creatures squirmed as bullets pierced their flesh and ck miasma came forth from their wounds.


    There was nomunication between the rebels inside the trucks. Radio and electromaic spectrum were not avable in this age.


    Damian opened his window. He let his upper body out and sprayed his rifle towards the pursuing Abominants.


    "Damn you!" Damian screamed.


    They came in numbers. Hunger stered their faces. The rabid creatures salivated upon the sight of human beings. Their grotesque mouths snarled in utter discord.


    The slender bellies, protruding spine, and muscr hind legs had supported their speed. They were faster than normal dogs but slower still by a car¡¯s full speed.


    However, the cargo trucks could only speed up to 50 to 60 miles per hour. The groundlings ran around 80 miles per hour; hence, escape was inevitable.


    Themotion outside; guns firing, creatures snarling, and the men shouting, still Lance¡¯s mind was bothered with the thought that a traitor was among them.


    Probablypromising the supposedly ndestine mission.

 Chapter 46: Asphodel

    Lance took out one poison bomb from his knapsack. He clicked it to activate it. Another click would trigger the countdown from five seconds.


    "No! You reserve yours. We will consume ours!" Handsome said firing on the other side of the vehicle.


    The ck miasma, smoke-like, almost covered their windshield from the forward truck. They need to concentrate fire on the forward truck as if it slows down, it will domino the speed of the other two trucks behind.


    They could feel some of the dead bodies were ran down by their vehicle. But the groundlings seemed to spawn from everywhere and in infinite numbers. They never ceased to attack the convoys until the three of them were tipped over or would destroy the chassis and create a crash.


    Luckily, these Abominants were only level 1 and their bullets were effective. Efficiency of one¡¯s aim was the ingredient to be able to seed this skirmish.


    The loud noise of rifles came through the open window. Lance saw the driver rattled with what had transpired. But the driver¡¯s wheel was steadied, and the strong arms that held them conquered the frightened bearer.


    It seemed forever. Damian reloaded three magazines and he was an efficient shooter. Lance thought about Joe who would maybe exhaust his ammo right now. He would spray his bullets at random targets and kill only a few.


    George and Joe were left in the camp, tending the Zelkian farm. Well, they were still neophytes, considering their tenure. The apanied rebels had significant tenure and were military-trained, as Jefferson hand-picked them.


    Lance had not moved much. It was horrifying for him.


    Then suddenly, Handsome settled back to his seat.


    "It¡¯s time! We cannot kill them all with our bullets. Close your windows, there¡¯s a signal," Handsome said and Damian and the rebel in front settled back to their seats and closed their respective windows hurriedly.


    The rebels from the forward convoy stopped firing. As the sound of the guns were silenced, the horrendous snarls stood out.


    Then explosions.


    These were not stunning bombs, nor the electric bombs, nor the poison bombs that Lance had given them.


    These were pure kic energy bombs, the one that burns.


    Lance covered his ears. The explosions were deafening, too much for a kid like him.


    "Molotov, you freaking creatures! Take that!" Damian cheered as the pursuing groundlings receded with the fires on their flesh. The screeches came.


    The fire discouraged the pursuers.


    The rebels cheered and then were silent. Only the discernable little conversations of the rebels, even inside the cabin, as they celebrated a small win.


    Despite the apocalyptic world, small wins were golden to them.


    "Molotov bombs! These were unregted," Lance said.


    "Well, kiddo. We are rebels remember. We don¡¯t follow the Government¡¯s Orders," Damian replied.


    They were just lucky that their vehicles ran on empty loads and could speed up to 50 miles per hour with the challenging rocky terrain. But what if they were at full load of salt?


    Climbing, the trucks headed to a steep ascend, dead trees now were seen asionally at the side of the rocky terrain that they called a road. The bumps were more noticeable now, sometimes, it would elevate Lance¡¯s butt from the cushioned seat.


    After almost an hour, detouring towards the borders of Asphodel forest and into the asional teaus of the mountain range, the map took them a cave.


    Below the chasm, along the bends of hills, sprawled dead trees. They were thicker than the dead forest. A snowy ash sprinkled at the top of the dead branches, making their tips more pronounced.


    ¡¯The groundlings¡¯ habitat,¡¯ Lance thought upon the sight below.


    They disembarked. Boots crunching against frozen stone. It was cold. The breeze had this biting chill munching on their exposed skin.


    "We should get inside, now!" Jefferson¡¯s voice echoed and the rebels followed suit.


    Themps were lit. Others activated their shy LED lights that were embedded on their jackets ¨C one of the trendy low-lifer jackets that the market had sold tons of them.


    "Jasper, scan," Lancemanded.


    "Scanning¡­" Jasper responded but with a choppy signal. "No Abominated creatures in this area, Master."


    "What¡¯s the coverage of your scan?"


    "30 meters radial coverage."


    "Can you go beyond 30?"


    "Negative, Master. So much atmospheric interference." Jasper answered.


    He felt the need to upgrade Jasper¡¯s scanning coverage as his missions were frequently beyond the wall. And the dangers these Abominants provide may be lurking in the corners or behind shadows and would attack in a surprise.


    The portcullis of the cave was wide enough to fit people inside, however, not their vehicles.


    A clearing was found after two minutes of walking and the 22 men, including Lance, settled in, some in groups, others were loners, however, not far enough which was beyond safety.


    As usual, Lance, Damian, and Handsome gathered together. Jefferson was giving instructions to his men, two went towards the portcullis to man the camp.


    They had their shifts, as SOP for the rebels who were looking over their shoulders for all their lives. It was a norm for them. What was not a norm for them if when nobody was watching the possible entry points of hostile elements.


    The Rebels took out their ready-to-eat processed food; easy to pack, and easy to unpack, type of mobile food for soldiers.


    Others called them the MRE ¨C Meal Ready to Eat.


    MREs during this age were delectable enough to not throw up on the first try.


    He had a bite. It was his first time to taste the MRE but it was passable. It was not pork or chicken or any living creatures in thend. It was maybe processed to emte meat, then chunked in a rectangr form, and grounded, and mixed with some spices to add aroma.


    His Spam and corned beef canned goods were way better.


    It was dry as it yed inside his mouth. He wanted to vomit it, but his stomach said otherwise.


    "Why not bring canned goods instead?" Lance asked Damian and Handsome who had finished their MREs while Lance only had one bite.


    "MREs provide you with nutrients better than those garbage, kiddo. These were designed for the military and they should be healthy at all times. You don¡¯t like them to be weak in the heat of battle, do ya?"


    "They say if you eat enough MRE, you will be leaner and meaner," Jefferson ambled towards them and squatted with his MRE too in his hand.


    "Thanks, for this Jefferson," Lance said, as he expressed his gratitude countless times to the leader.


    "Don¡¯t mention it, Lance. Your objective aligns with our objective. You are right. We need to mine salt. I haven¡¯t even considered thisst year. It would be the same story over again if we hadn¡¯t taken action," Jefferson exined.


    The way he spoke as if his voice resonated like that of a microphone, echoing from his diaphragm as he released his voice. You would want to listen to every word he says.


    "What keeps bugging me is the thought of the Wolf," Lance raised the concern.


    "Not this again, kid," Damian interjected. But Jefferson signaled him to let the boy speak.


    "Why? What is it about?" Jefferson asked. His eyes transitioned to more serious, although they were serious normally before but they became dead serious now.


    "I..I think that one of your ranks is a traitor. Letting the Wolf pass by through the walls," Lance hesitantly said. Those stares from Jefferson wereser beams.


    "A traitor? That¡¯s new. I mean, I totally agree with you about the possibility of a traitor inside the ranks. But it wouldn¡¯t be by the Corporation or the Government. It smeared the integrity of the walls that they so praised. It is a low blow to the Government."


    "Who might be behind such an act?" Lance asked.


    "For starters, enemies of the Government. The castaways or the Outsiders," Jefferson sneered towards Handsome. "No offense," He immediately said.


    "None taken," Handsome responded, chewing his snack.


    "The Wolf attack somehow helped our cause. Not the method that I had in mind but it served the same objective," Jefferson added.


    There was in between the statements that irked Lance. If one goes down deeper into the meaning of it, somehow, Jefferson did not care the lives lost during the attack.


    His blood boils upon pondering much about it. Kept on boiling until he imploded, his senses and rational mind had slipped through his control and what conquered was the raging emotion within.


    "How could you!" Lance stood up; his fists clenched. "You are not saying that the attack does not concern you. How about the lives that died that day? Have you seen the News, a whole family butchered by that wretched beast!" Lance¡¯s voice was heard by all the Rebels situated inside the cave.


    Jefferson held his stare, unmoved by the kid¡¯s action. Jefferson released a deep sigh and started to ce his unfinished MRE at the side, disregarding whether the exposed food touched the ground or not. Apparently, he won¡¯t be eating anymore.


    Then he stood up.

 Chapter 47: Salt

    The cave was filled with silence, the cold breeze whistled outside freezing the rebels inside. The stares between Jefferson and Lance were a tug-of-war, the defeated will be the first to release.


    "Kid, you live in a world of perfection and idealism. What you are saying to me that what happened was cruel because of the lives lost? We live in a cruel age, Lance. Everything you see is cruelty. The Rebels are formed because of that cruelty, because of that tyranny that only the privileged are served by the Government and the Corporation, neglecting those below them.


    Treating the Commoners like rats."


    "If the Rebels would be absolutely moral, how can we fight against the true evil? How can we stand firm against the Corporation? It is not the question of who is good or bad, Lance. It is based on the perspective and we are the lesser evil. And the lesser evil will do our very best to take down the true evil that governed this city."


    "The only question is," Jefferson added after a few moments, "Are you with us or with them? If you do not choose who you are, then you choose to be neutral. A citizen without true purpose. We fight for the cause and we fight what¡¯s right! Therefore, we seek the truth and expose them to what they are. That is our absolute purpose, evil or not, that is our end goal."


    There were small affirmations from the crowd. Looking at Jefferson, he was like on a pedestal delivering a motivational speech. And Lance was not only the recipient of such a message, but the entire group.


    Lance was speechless. He could not respond. Deep inside, something was still boiling, a burning confidence ready to be released.


    Jefferson turned his back and ambled away from Lance¡¯s circle. "It is you. You let the Wolf inside the wall," Lance said meekly. But his words were clear.


    Jefferson halted and released a deep sigh. "You rest, son of Erik. We have a long way ahead tomorrow. You are just tired. And I have no energy to argue with you either."


    Then Jefferson continued his walk and the show was over. Everybody kept their belongings, gathered their trash, and slept. Nobody uttered a word after that.


    ¡¯The end does not justify the means,¡¯ Lance thought over and over again. Reying the words of Jefferson in his mind. Finding hints. ¡¯He did not answer my question. It was probably because he did it. He let the wolf in.¡¯


    Then he slept.


    ***


    It was morning and they were back in the Convoy again. He slept well, fortunately. But still, the words of the Rebel leader resonated in his head. He was ready to answer back, to justify that cruelty is not the answer to cruelty.


    No.


    He shrugged off the thought and set his mind toward the goal, of mining salt.


    As nned, the convoy would take them to the Mining site before lunch. Then they would finish mining after a few hours then back to the boundaries of Asphodel forest to where they settled in for the night.


    That is if there are no mishaps during the mining.


    They brought mining service robots; the rebels had the liberty to just ¡¯borrow¡¯ from the police warehouse about two of them.


    Beautiful inventions, Lance thought about them. Bravo to those who had invented this. It will make their life easy.


    He set his eyes through the windows of the cabin. It was the same as always. Dead trees, t bends ofnds, dark overcast, hot and cold breeze, and a rocky terrain.


    What was new was a vige before the tree line of the boundaries of Asphodel Forest. It was an abandoned vige, whitewashed, and rubble everywhere, tested through time and of course by the st of Nuclear warhead.


    Lance had imagined the Nuclear World War. What it was like. He could not imagine that such bomb would decimate the whole world. How would a few bombs destroy 95% of the poption?


    He imagined it among the vige, green mes creeping on the ground like tsunamis and passing on that vige, decimating anything that was made of wood and flesh. And what was left were dead bodies and the stonewalls.


    There were no cries. There was only thunder, sudden quakes, and a snap. Everything was lifeless. Dreams and hard work were destroyed suddenly in only seconds.


    ¡¯That is absolute cruelty,¡¯ Lance thought.


    "Few miles from here we will arrive in the mining site," The driver said.


    Their vehicle started to decelerate as the terrain became challenging again. Steeper, indication of another mountain climb. There were no trees anymore, only logsically spread throughout the mountain bed and mantled with white ash.


    Luckily, the salt deposits don¡¯t settle on the mountain¡¯s peak but in mid-range. Their cargo vehicles could not suffice the more challenging terrain up ahead, the outcroppings of rocks seemed to be more random, making no way for a road.


    Broadridge Mountain was very steep mid-section up, like almost a cliff, but the steepness tends to be gradual halfway down. Empty river beds were strewn along the roadside, manicured by crystallized small rock formations.


    ¡¯Salt¡¯ Lance thought upon the sight of the natural crystallization.


    The Salt must be mined underneath the rocks, where toxins of the biological warhead had not contaminated.


    "How do you know this kid?" Damian asked.


    "Back in Bay City, the WWMDs also used Salt to make the water soften be supplied to the drinking filtration stations," Lance responded. "And an opening of an old salt mine was just up ahead."


    After a few hours, Lance gazed at his holographic watch.


    1215 H


    It was lunchtime. They wereter than scheduled, as expected due to a worse terrain than what they had as they approached Asphodel. Their vehicles started decelerating down to 20 to 30 miles per hour as they started climbing at the mountain foot.


    1730 H the groundlings attacked them yesterday. The sun had retreated early behind the mountains, casting mountain shadows on the neighboring forests, hence, giving the Abominants courage to hunt.


    Looking from the portcullis, due North from the Broadridge was the Asphodel hills, separated by a foggy and gloomy forest running miles away, hours of travel, and on the East, separated by bends of deadnds, beyond the thick swarm of unsettling atmospheric dust, was Bay City.


    As they reached the opening, all of them disembarked their vehicles.


    Then at the third cargo truck, two mining bots were also disembarked, each unit was carried by 4 people down to the ground.


    The mining bots had their tracks, with 3 small roadwheels on each side, like that of a tank, and with four robotic arms attached to the chamber where salt would be stored after collection.


    Whirring sounds emerged as the two units of mining bots started to press on inside the mining portcullis.


    They scanned as the moment they stepped inside the tunnel, broadsers illuminated the expanse of the cavernous walls. The Rebels were behind them, bringing their mining tools.


    The robots pressed on further inside the tunnel, luckily the tunnel road was still intact making the robots easy to pass on.


    As the Robots scanned, a brighterser would tag the locations of significant lumps of salt deposits. If not the robots would collect them using their robotic arms, the Rebels would.


    The mining was faster with the robots, filling their chambers with rock salt. The soil that came along with the salt was filtered out by the use of fast-paced sensors in the filtration tubes.


    The rebels moved fast, in unison, they mined the scanned portions of the walls. Others were left behind at the opening of the tunnel as lookout.


    Lance was calibrating the robotic miners, checking on the scans from time to time, to ensure that they wouldn¡¯t mine a portion with some crystallized forms other than salt.


    The pace was expectedly normal, and the robots contributed their use more efficiently than manual collection. However, the filled chambers were then transported back towards the cargo trucks outside the tunnel and then back, giving the robots time to wait for their chambers installed back to their bodies.


    That¡¯s when the downtime urred. The collection was fast but because their cargo trucks stayed farther, it would take time for them to push the chambers manually back and forth.


    Theck of equipment had provided them with precious time dys. As they go deeper towards the tunnel, the farther they were from their cargo trucks with the same pace and the same process.


    Therefore, the dy increased.


    Lance squinted at the time.


    1500 H


    Two hours travel back to the Asphodel Cave and the three cargo trucks were not yet filled up.


    ¡¯We had to stop right now,¡¯ Lance thought, calcting the speed and the distance. But he already calcted it on their way in Broadridge from Asphodel.


    Darkness will be creeping like a mantle of death as they raced towards Asphodel¡¯s embrace.

 Chapter 48: Ambush

    1730 H


    Lance was always good at estimations. And his estimate would take them to the Asphodel Cave at around 1800 H.


    However, the dark seemed to catch on them earlier, like that of yesterday. The Convoy was now slower as they were loaded with salt.


    "Lock and load," Handsome said.


    The soldiers were exhausted from theborious mining and hopefully their yesterday¡¯s skirmish had discouraged the pursuing groundlings.


    However, it was the contrary. The snarls came along with the thumps of paws against the ground like drums. Lance¡¯s anxiousness was doubledpared to yesterday.


    Something about the darkness, the ominous feeling that one could not exin, that was it.


    But a streak of hope as he watched inside his knapsack, five poison bombs. The fifteen poison bombs were with the other rebel operatives. Damian had one and Handsome did too.


    The groundlings came crashing again, but it was different this time. They came in the front like they were waiting for a strategic ambush. The forward truck decelerated so significantly that the second cargo almost collided with its rear.


    The rebels emerged with their weapons spraying bullets to the pack.


    Surprisingly, the snarls were gone. The groundlings retreated and unseen beyond the grasp of their naked eyes. The fog borne with dust came forward, darkness had invaded thends.


    They were all dumbfounded. Then the convoy picked up speed again to the vehicles¡¯ utmost power.


    Sadly, at 30 miles per hour only.


    And after a few seconds, the second wave came. The groundlings attacked the forward truck, pushing it to the right side, almost tipping it over. The forward truck halted, along with the other trucks behind, and the rebels fired at the pack again.


    ¡¯This is different than yesterday. They moved tactically,¡¯ Lance thought.


    Handsome and Damian also had their voiceless looks. Their faces were perturbed with questions.


    The fog was thick, the breeze was relentless, and the snarls came, the snouts of the creatures could only be seen from where their headlights could reach.


    The Rebels had their asional shooting, randomly to where the snarls would be. Kills were not confirmed.


    They could not see a thing. The forward truck decided to stop first. They all knew that a moving truck was easier to tip over than a stationary one. The Rebels from the dump box, filled with salt, were perching above the load, training their weapons from random directions.


    The second cargo truck to where Lance had ridden, was still unscathed since the start of the attack.


    "There is something different about this. They were like waiting for instructions." Lance mused.


    "I have a bad feeling," Damian said.


    Lane watched through the windows and they were entering the tree line of Asphodel forest. And it was the same vige that was seen a mile from where they were, beyond the expanse of a barrennd.


    At the clearing of thatnd, camouging with the dark fog, was another pack of attacking groundlings at the left side. They were fast, nearing them.


    "Handsome!" Lance screamed as he was at the left side window. Handsome immediately squeeze the trigger with no proper aim. There were many and he was sure that wherever his rifle would point, a groundling would die.


    However, the creatures were relentless, ramming the second truck where Lance and the other were. Shaking them half-tipped over, however, unsessful to push the truck upside down.


    Immediate assistance, the bullets came forth from random directions from the forward truck, hitting flesh, and letting the pack squirm of death. He knew the third truck also fired their weapons to their defense.


    It was chaotic, too much for a kid like him. Lance only witnessed the gore deaths of the creatures from the inside and the muffled gunshot noise as his palms pressed his ears.


    "There were too many of them!" Damian said and took out the poison bomb from his knapsack, triggered it, and threw it out of the window. It exploded and the bluish mist appeared, and there was silence from the right side to where the poison bomb detonated.


    The forward truck started to move after two bombs were also detonated from their nk, filling the outside with a bluish cloud. Lance could hear flesh disintegrating as the Aiveez mist ate them to ash.


    There was a moment of silence and the convoy continued. The groundlings retreated again, hopefully for good this time.


    ¡¯They were smart. They were organized. What¡¯s happening?¡¯ Lance thought.


    Lance¡¯s drumming heartbeat receded to normal. His breathing rate had lessened too.


    "Have you noticed how they behave now?" Lance asked.


    "Yeah. They are somethin¡¯ right now. But your poison bombs are cookin¡¯ those creatures for good. You did good, kid," it was Damian who answered.


    "Woah. Woah. Woah!" The driver was surprised. He saw something that the passengers did not.


    Then, a thunderous blow shocked them.


    Their vehicle just did not tip over once, but twice. They were scrambled inside, so suddenly that nobody was able to react. Bodies bounced against the metallic confines of the cabin.


    Lights out...


    Screams. Muffled screams. Blurred vision. Heavy head, searing pain in every inch of his body. His arms were limped on his side, his feet dragging on the ground. Was he floating?


    No.


    He was carried by two strong men. Screams again from behind them. Then gunshots. mes from behind, illuminating against the dark fog. It was their truck. Bluish mist emerged from a few steps behind them.


    Pursuing groundlings retreated from the blue cloud.


    "I am out of bombs!" The man on the left that carried him said. His voice was muffled, painful ringing looming in his left ear.


    Metallic liquid flushing his tongue. His head hurts. Moments after, the muffled screams were clear now.


    The growls of the creatures were more discernable. Damian was carrying him on his right side and simultaneously shot his rifle to the pursuing groundlings.


    "How many more bombs?" Damian asked.


    "Last four!" Handsome responded.


    "Throw one," Damian said.


    Handsome threw again another poison bomb. They were using Lance¡¯s reserves. Now, the ringing receded as the bluish cloud caught up to them from behind.


    They were on foot.


    "Lance! Are you awake!" Handsome asked. His voice was loud, close to his ear.


    "Yes!" Lance responded.


    They were on foot. The other two cargos were nowhere to be seen. mes of a crashed truck were seen from the road they tread.


    "The vige!" Lance screamed, and his blood gushed out from his mouth. Then the energy loomed on his knees and towards his lower extremities. He ran now and he, independently from hisrades.


    But his knees were still frozen, and pain on his ankles. But the thought of the groundlings pursuing them, the adrenalin masked the pain.


    Lance squinted behind; he gained speed. The bluish cloud of his poison bombs shielded them from the creatures. He saw the dead bodies of the creatures on the ground, burning flesh after the bluish mist invaded their skins.


    They reached the clearing of the vige, stonewalls and whitewashed, as what he had seenst morning.


    The ce was abandoned, as all viges were outside the surviving cities. Rubbles and stone debris on their feet. Degraded wood all over.


    About 50 houses and establishments, as Lance estimated, and they pressed forward hoping for temporary salvation.


    They ran along the stonewalled establishments, and there were no doors. All wood was burned down.


    Their feet took them to a three-story seeminglymercial building, to the flight of stairs and up to the highest possible floor. There were no roofs over their heads. But it was the best position to stop the creatures from climbing up.


    The ess was only a flight of stairs, and if they sted them with their rifles, they could stop the pursuers.


    That is if they had unlimited ammo.


    "What now?" Lance asked, recovering his exhausted lungs as they settled in the corner.

 Chapter 49: Survive

    "Nuclear World War is the Earthly cleanse. Cleanse from its impurities. If we don¡¯t repent and serve the Cause of Science, we will be punished. Convert. Or else face another Earthly cleanse.


    -High Priestess of Science


    ***


    Damian and Handsome were silent. Handsome checked on his rifle, dislodged his magazine, and checked the ammo inside. Damian did the same.


    The stairs from the lower levels were across them to where they were situated, and the two ex-soldiers positioned themselves for an ambush. Futile it may seem but they were trained to fight to theirst breath.


    They were focused on surviving even if hope was impossible. The stories about the deployed soldiers were stationed outside the camps for weeks, hunting Abominant hives with only MREs as their food source.


    Supply cargo ships would only be sent to the deployed soldiers to resupply them once or twice a week with food, ammo, and armaments. Thus, pushing each soldier with excellent survival instincts.


    The soldiers were faced with two problems, one was facing the relentless Abominants and the location of the hives, and the other was surviving with limited food and water.


    "Lance, don¡¯t move!" Handsome said, crouched to a favorable angle, his weapon aiming at the entry. Damian was across him with the same form as Handsome¡¯s.


    Lance hugged his knapsack; his breathing wasborious beneath the breathing chambers of his gas mask. He checked the inside and there were 3 poison bombs.


    It was not enough.


    He was hoping that their silence would mask their location, and their scents would not be detected by the groundlings. The sky was darker. It was beyond 1800 H. He did not bother to check his watch for he knew already that darkness was upon them.


    His eyes trained inside the room, it was unclear because of the dusty atmosphere, but their masks served as a faint night vision.


    There were two holes in the walls of the expanse of the room, opposite each other. They served as windows before they were bombed.


    Lance dragged his butt towards the nearest hole. His feet barely could move a muscle. He was not sure if it was because of the crash or just his immense fear.


    The two ex-soldiers did not utter a word, even their breathing was not noticeable. If without his night vision, he could not tell that he was with two other people in the room.


    Lance checked on the outside through the window. It was quiet and not a single groundling hunting. The mes of the crash truck could be seen from the distance.


    The traces of Molotov bombs painted a portion of the clearing, although fading. There were no signs of the two trucks.


    Fortunately, they were safe. Unfortunately, there was no rescue for them.


    ¡¯They probably consumed all poison bombs and have escaped using the Molotov bombs,¡¯ Lance thought.


    It was the third floor and it was the tallest establishment among the sprawled devastation, allowing Lance to look further beyond his vision permits.


    After his eyes trained toward the road and the crashed cargo truck, he saw two human figures standing beyond the vige¡¯s fence. Two silhouette figures were unscathed and unrattled by the scouring Abominants.


    "Who are they?" Lance whispered.


    "Shhh.." Handsome reprimanded.


    The two remained immovable and held utter silence.


    Then the pack of groundlings came from the darkness like waves emerging from the dark fog and passed through the two mysterious figures.


    Lance was sure they were human beings from the silhouette forms but he was dumbfounded with questions about why the creatures appeared to disregard their prey among their midst.


    "Jasper, talk to me, scan on the two figures outside the fences," Lance whispered almost close to a mumble.


    "Can¡¯t reach them, master," Jasper softly responded.


    Looking outside, Lance saw the mutated beasts invading the vige roads, scouring for the three human beings who managed to escape from the crash.


    It was chaotic, their footfalls were horrifying. Their snarls came like hungry creatures, desperate for a sign of food.


    The horrendous figures streak through every entry they can find, through the destroyed houses, through small alleyways, and sniffing desperately.


    Lance and hisrade were situated at the farthest end of the vige, opposite of the entrance gate, however, it was only a matter of time before the Abominants would find them.


    Then a figure appeared emerging behind the two human figures. It was huge. Lance was not sure if it was an Abominant or just a fog lumped together, ying tricks on his night vision goggles of his gas mask.


    As therge figure stepped further at the side of the human figure, its thorns were more pronounced now, and its huge body had streaks of yellow dominated by ck fur. It was an Abominant.


    One human figure seemed to pet the colossal beast.


    Judging from the figure, the originating animal could not be identified.


    Upon the sight of it, moreover, to the mysterious human figures, Lance loomed goosebumps, every hair of his skin stood like they were being pulled out one by one.


    The groundlings were thorough, every inch of the vige was scoured. Andstly, a pack of seemingly fifty groundlings approached thest building where they were situated.


    Lance¡¯s fear intensified. He could not exin it but his heart thumping hard against his chest defined the magnitude of his fear.


    He looked at his tworades, still aiming their weapons on the stairs.


    ¡¯This is it. This is our end,¡¯ Lance thought, feeling hopeless.


    They could hear the groundlings sniffing around the ground floor, and cramming themselves on the stairs, as thumps of colliding bodies could be heard.


    Then the creatures searched the second floor; the snarls, and the sniffing, were more apparent now.


    Lance took out one poison bomb from his knapsack, coldly resting within his grasp.


    The scramble of bodies against walls and ground now seemed to grow as they started to scuttle on the stairs to the third floor,peting with each other with their targeted prey.


    The creatures emerged, inevitably.


    "Fire!" Damian said.


    Their rifles fired, illuminating the dark room with thebustion of gunpowder inside their rifle chambers, bullets decimating Abominant flesh, and sttered ckish blood of the creatures on the wall.


    No creature could step 3 leaps inside the third floor without being killed.


    The cries came before the groundlings were lifeless.


    The ambush was perfect. No groundling can enter their space without being killed by their rifles. However, they had little ammo left and only three poison bombs.


    After about ten dead bodies, the creatures retreated, and the two ex-militaries stopped firing as well.


    "Kid, ready your poison bomb," Damian said.


    Lance nced again outside the window and found the two human figures had entered the vige, leaving therge Abominant idle outside the fence. The way they moved, so nonchnt and devious.


    ¡¯Humans exercising control of level 1 creatures?¡¯ Lance thought.


    ¡¯What are they?¡¯ Lance thought.


    Whatever they were, Lance knew that these were not real human beings, at least, with his brilliant deduction. The rumors were true, there were Abominated Human beings.


    Lance threw the poison bomb toward the stairs, creating a bluish mist on the second floor. The snarling and growling were gone.

 Chapter 50: Overlord

    Nathan


    ***


    Thoughts reminisced of a past that was long gone. He remembered when he was still human, these structures were his home. It was where humans could live peacefully and interact with the neighbors.


    Now, they were living in pods, in walls, or the ground, or wherever their pod was situated. It was more peaceful and all humanly remorse were gone. The pods, their homes, provided them with greater than peace.


    Euphoria.


    He had no dreams when he slept. He knew what dreams were. They were not real. What he had during his sleep state were memories. Bitter memories of being human, of being weak.


    His thoughts were knocking still to get out from the prison beneath a deeper sense, locked inside his soul.


    ¡¯Johnny, this is a different group. They have a weapon that I have never faced before,¡¯ Nathan said telepathically.


    Their strategy was better than the previous ambush. As their Battalion Overlord, he was responsible for the lives of his subordinates. He knew the ambush was better, the groundlings were more strategic with their attacks, and Rhino was also attacking without being wounded much by the humans¡¯ firepower.


    But the blue mist distracted their ns. They should be sessful, destroying the collected truckloads of salt, but they managed to tip over only one cargo truck.


    He had to retract Rhino¡¯s attack as not to be exposed to the blue mist.


    He saw his brethren burned to ash in minutes. He had to pull out his groundlings to dissipate any residue that mists left behind.


    ¡¯The blue mist. They killed our brethren,¡¯ Johnny responded.


    ¡¯I know, Johnny. This collection is not sanctioned, this is a different group. Probably expendables. Mercenaries. They are the worst.¡¯


    ¡¯The three of them are already trapped. Should I lead them to full attack,¡¯ Johnny suggested referring to his handful of groundlings.


    Nathan nced on his Adjutant. He nodded.


    ¡¯Poison them first,¡¯


    Johnny shrugged the thought.


    ¡¯I will kill them with my own hands. I want them to suffer, prolong their agony. For our brethren they killed.¡¯


    Nathan expected Johnny¡¯s request. Johnny needed to feel the death of his opponent on hisid arms.


    ¡¯No survivors, Johnny. Cautious, my brother, they might still have that weapon,¡¯ Nathan said.


    Johnny sauntered deeper into the vige and into thest establishment on the farthest corner where the survivors were trapped.


    The two cargo trucks escaped. The Entity would not be pleased. He knew it. The Entity would control the Queen to punish them with rationalized body supplements. A decreased dosage.


    He needed the supplements every time he slept.


    It was not a choice. It was a necessity. Not for his pleasure but for his own body. Quenching the hunger that crunching his innards within.


    He could not pursue them anymore. The consequence was his only doing and they should not be punished because of his misdirection.


    ¡¯No. I am responsible for this. Spare them. Provide their full supplement,¡¯ He prayed. Hoping that the Entity would hear him.


    Rhino purred as he caressed its horns.


    ¡¯I know, Rhino. In due time. Let Johnny do his work. If he fails, then let¡¯s bring the building down,¡¯ Nathan responded to Rhino¡¯s non-verbalmunication.


    It could not talk, but Nathan understood it. Its emotions, its feelings, especially when it¡¯s hungry or needing rest, he could feel them. When it¡¯s happy, he could almost taste it.


    He would know every feeling and emotion under hismand. The Entity will provide everything, only their generic needs. But the care and the cultivation of every being under him was his direct ountability.


    Nathan could not fathom the rationale of the way theymunicated with the pack. Their mouths were only used for feeding, but not employingmunication.


    Except him. Except for the Abominated humans. A special case, Johnny had severed his throat during his transformation and was unable to utter verbalmunication¡ªonly telepathy.


    They were blessed by the Entity, spiritually, and such blessing would be filtered through the queen.


    The Instruction was absolute. Even the Queen could not defy the Entity.


    Demetrian Season was nearing. He could feel the power that coursed through his blood, regenerating his cells to their ultimate potential. And the Season of winter would provide such power.


    It was the time for the birth of a new generation of Abominants. Like him. To expand the Battalions and grow the army.


    It was the coldness, the ice beyond the dusty atmosphere, that provided such strength.


    His thoughts were startled by the gunshots, looming again as the groundlings started to invade the third floor. He could hear deaths; it was weird though. Even in death, he could hear them.


    The cries of their souls, as thest ounce of life left the body, were discernable to him like a call for forgiveness for their failure.


    He hated death. It dug a sharp searing pain through his heart every time he felt death of every groundling.


    The feeling of death came like tidal waves. He cursed on his thoughts.


    ¡¯Who are these people? Why can¡¯t they just die!¡¯


    Johnny started to invade the building.


    He wanted to intervene; however, it was Johnny¡¯s wish to kill them with his bare hands, without even the use of his special abilities.


    Nathan could not just wait on the sidelines. He was also curious about the kind of people he faced. They did not bring robots this time, they were all humans.


    Which made him curious. The intelligence of these people had somehow outthought his strategy. The weapon was the key to his failure.


    The two cargo trucks were a mystery to him to where they would hide. Night hade and he knew that humans feared the night. They hide away from in sight.


    He nced upon the peaks of the nearest mountain, due north. The Asphodel forest climbed from the foot of the mountain and towards the peaks.


    He pointed at the Asphodel mountain¡¯s mid-section. ¡¯There you are,¡¯ Heughed.


    After they kill the three human beings, he will then attack the remains of the convoy. He could still deliver victory and the Entity would be happy.


    ¡¯Don¡¯t worry,¡¯ He convinced himself, ¡¯Johnny will kill them.¡¯


    The gunshots were tactical, they were not wasting bullets. He assessed.


    They were highly trained to kill Abominants. They were experienced. He could feel the wrath amongst the three survivors.


    He felt Johnny had entered the second floor. The groundlings retreated from the flight of stairs. Hemanded them.


    ¡¯Let my Adjutant finish the mission,¡¯ Hemanded through his thoughts.


    They were all silent. He could feel the groundlings had subsided their hunger to kill. He could feel their fear in his telepathic voice. It was the Entity that bathed him the authority over these Abominants.


    Groundlings were easy to breed and notplicated tomand. Those were the reasons why Nathan chose the groundlings other than the level 2 Abominants. They were messier. Their thoughts. The more they increased their levels, the more they were resistant to a superiormand.


    Even though Rhino was a level 3 Abominant, it had peaceful thoughts.


    He was curious about the survivors. Hence, he jumped higher than the three-story building, and the wings between his long fingers activated and managed his float.


    The establishment had no roof; thus, he could see them. He could witness the fight between the futile strengths of human beings. He was evaluating the cruelty of his Adjutant.


    The two men shot at Johnny but he knew he could take the bullets. They did not know where to shoot. Johnny¡¯s internal organs were moved inside his body in very unusual ces.


    His brain was in his calves, his lungs were ced in his thighs. Johnny just stood there, absorbing the bullets on his chest, even on his head.


    From Nathan¡¯s vantage point, the humans were hopeless.


    The other one lunched with a knife, trying maybe to cut Johnny¡¯s head. The knife could determine that Johnny was hollow in his upper body. The second one lunged for an attack, too.


    Still hopeless.


    The humans were skilled with hand-to-handbats; however, Johnny was strong. He pushed the twobatants further back against the walls.


    That would finish them, however, unconscious still.


    Surprisingly, the third one, a younger kid threw a brick towards Johnny. Johnny did not even flinch with the kid¡¯s attack. Johnny took gentle strides toward the cowering young human being.


    The kid was cornered. A brick was thrown again but Johnny¡¯s strides continued to press on with the same menacing pace.


    Nathan was praising from above. He pped his hands to leverage his elevation to maintain his audience.


    In the blink of an eye, the boy darted a messy grapple after he threw another rock. Maybe it was pity that made Johnny slow with his reaction, but eventually, he shoved the kid away.


    Helplessly, the kid crawled further back away from Johnny.


    Unpredictably, before Johnny could execute the finishing touches, the bluish smoke appeared. Not in any other ces but at Johnny¡¯s feet.

 Chapter 51: Encounter

    The bluish mist from the poison bomb filled the roofless room. The Abominated human shrieked; it had no mouth to scream. But even so, he looked like he was screaming in immense pain.


    Screaming towards the heavens, as if his hand reaching toward the skies, asking for salvation, his chest was forward and itsid arms seemed to tighten.


    His flesh seemed to melt as the mist engulfed him. The ck miasma emerged all over the suffering body as if fire raged from within his innards.


    The mist invaded his nostrils, inhaling and exhaling the thick smoke. He knelt on the floor, sping his head with hisid arms.


    Then, the grotesque form of its mouth, enough to gobble one human being, opened in its belly. His teeth were sharp like that of a shark, and blue poison smoke escaped from it.


    But the creature sumbed and stood up. His breathing was more pronounced, although he was shaking.


    Its piercing eyes darted towards Lance emaciated at the farthest corner to where the creature stood. The creature started to gain calcted steps and with every step it took, raised the boy¡¯s heartbeat.


    The creature¡¯s tentacle-like arms started to glow beneath its flesh, creating small openings, however, the blue poisonous mist battled its way toward the creature¡¯s innards.


    Dying whatever the creature was nning.


    As the Abominated human got nearer, Handsome tackled from behind. Apparently, he regained consciousness from his hard collision with the wall.


    Handsome took the weakening creature against the wall, saving Lance a safety gap between him and the monster.


    The creature¡¯s strength was gone, it fought against the soldier¡¯s strength, however, Handsome was relentless.


    The soldier took out his knife and stabbed the creature in all numerous random parts at the same time pinning the limp body against the stonewall.


    Although with little damage, the creature was greatly affected with the blue mist and had little wisp of energy to fend off the seeding attacks.


    Surprisingly, a knife was plunged into the creature¡¯s right thigh that caused the creature to show a significant effect. It was not Handsome¡¯s knife.


    A sharp scream emerged right after. Its mouth opened again to release a deafening scream.


    It was Damian who crawled and helped Handsome on his deathly pursuit.


    The greenish glow beneath the arm¡¯s flesh began to vanish and his body dropped to the ground.


    His body started to disintegrate, exposing muscle fibers and then its internal organs located in unexpected parts of the creature¡¯s body. Then, the corpse turned to ash.


    The bluish mist had sessfully destroyed the creature, luckily, preventing something deadly would be released from the glowing pores.


    Damian and Handsome both were recuperating from their respective painful collision and surrendered themselves to the mercy of the walls.


    "What is that?" Handsome released a slight chuckle conquering hisborious voice.


    "I don¡¯t know. The rumors are true," Lance responded.


    Damian was still groaning at Handsome¡¯s side, inspecting his body with signs of blood. Luckily, there were no traces of red blood on the floor. Only the ck viscous liquid spilled on the cemented ground.


    Right after moments of seemingly hopeless victory, a monstrous voice emerged from the skies. The skies were dark; hence, the source of the agonizing voice could not be seen.


    Itnded like a thunderous thud, shaking the establishment after a tremendousnding. It was the source of the voice hovering over their heads before it decided to invade their space.


    It cried first as he ambled close to the disintegrated body. It called a name, but was not discernable.


    ¡¯Another Abominated Human?¡¯ Lance was horrified by the sight.


    Then the creature caught his stares. With eyes nked, yellowish pupils with white eyeballs, piercing at him with obvious intent.


    That was the moment that Lance felt hopeless and would dly receive the embrace of death. Onest poison bomb left in his knapsack and a couple of knives for the soldiers were theirst defense.


    He could not move.


    Damian managed to stood up and released a haymaker hitting the skull of the monstrous human.


    His punch had not even startled the creature. However, its gaze turned to the futile soldier. Handsome, too, scrambled for a knife and stood up to aid Damian.


    It was clear that Damian and Handsome had never seen anything like the Abominated humans. It was stered on their expression, they were indecisive on how to approach such situation.


    They were not trained to apprehend such a creature. If it was a Scorpion, they knew what to do. They would run.


    However, somehow running was not the viable option, otherwise, they chose to fight as if granting a slim chance of winning against this monstrosity.


    They were myths before, now a truth of those rumors had materialized before their eyes, the expression perturbed with endless questions.


    The creature ambled to the two soldiers in theirbative stance. Lance knew that the two soldiers could not take another attack from these strong creatures.


    If they did, their ribs would be severed. Damian was already clenching his side while Handsome had bruised all over from his recent skirmish with the first dead Abominated Human.


    Lance once again asserted to trigger the poison bomb that he quickly took out from his knapsack.


    It clicked, pushing the creature¡¯s attention to Lance.


    Handsome took the small window of opportunity and attacked the creature¡¯s back. However, with only one push of the creature¡¯s left hand, without even looking, knocked out the soldier good.


    Lance pushed the button again and it triggered the bomb to five seconds.


    The creature darted so fast that even the kid hadn¡¯t had the time to react. It caught the kid¡¯s wrist with its bomb blinking in his grasp. The grip was tight and tightening every second.


    Lance screamed from beneath his mask due to the immense pain. The creature took the bomb out effortlessly from his hand and threw it out of the building.


    It exploded outside without the blue poisonous mist reaching the room.


    Thest ace of their sleeves was now exhausted and hopelessness conquered the kid¡¯s thoughts.


    A rock banged the creatures head but the creature was still immovable. It was Damian. Quickly, the creature kicked Damian farther back like he was weightless.


    Lance started to deliver futile blows to the creature but remained immovable, still. He kicked to its groin, and to its abdomen, but none had shaken the monster.


    The creature took out the kid¡¯s gas mask and pulled him closer to the creature¡¯s face. Lance restricted his breath and closed his mouth totally, without the introduction of contaminated air.


    The creature had a man¡¯s face, a nose, a mouth, and even eyes. But its skin was ckened, scaly, and matched with the luminous yellow pupils.


    "You will die!" It spoke, voice warbling and deep. Its stinking breath had caressed the kid¡¯s face.


    As the creature¡¯s fingers spread out, raised unto his face, and sharp ws emerged, a small gooey ball was stuck in its neck. It was not there before, it just appeared, surprising the kid, and the creature.


    The gooey ball exploded like a small firecracker and released strong organic nt vines constricting the Abominant monster from its neck, to its arms, down to his shins.


    The vines crawled to the monster¡¯s body so fast that the creature was not able to react. In the process, the grip released the kid to the ground.


    "What¡¯s this!" The creature was angered by the strong wooden vines that imprisoned him in an inescapable grip. The gooey ball became roots, invading through the monster¡¯s flesh, feeding the fast-growing vine.


    The monster dropped to the floor with the wooden vine hugging him in ce.


    Lance¡¯s wrists feltfortable right after. Upon the looks of it, there was an internal bleeding. He knew the pain woulde after his adrenalin would subside.


    The monster was not dead but it seemed the vine that imprisoned him had somehow absorbed contaminated blood which supported its elerated growth.


    It was just a theory that Lance hade up, but it seemed a rational observation.


    ¡¯Who saved me?¡¯ Lance asked. His eyes trained toward his unconsciousrades right after his put his mask back on.

 Chapter 52: Mystery Girl

    The Abominant human was still alive, grunting in utter frustration. What surprised Lance was a weapon used to constrict a strong Human Abominant.


    Secondly, it grew fast from one small ball. The trigger design was electrical which elerated the scion inside the gooey ball.


    He had never seen this before and it was not military.


    The Military only usedser and other destructive firepower to battle Abominants but not the use of nts.


    Furthermore, the elerating exponential growth rate of organic flesh was never before discovered by the current brains of the Corporation and the best of scientists. Such knowledge was still untapped in this age or the confines of Axe Central City.


    A humming of rotors was heard overhead. The faint lights below the craft descended, obscuring the rider.


    As the hovercraft hovered a meter from the floor of the room, a woman in the gas mask was unconcealed. She wore a coverall vest, emphasizing the shape of her body, with the gooey bomb casings at the side of her belt.


    "Son of Erik," the woman said, "hurry, escape with your friends!"


    "Who are you?" Lance asked. He meekly stood, as what transpired had filled him with questions.


    "There is no time to exin. Get on the hovercraft and take your friends with you."


    "What about you?"


    "I have my hoverboard with me." The girl responded and pointed at the hoverboard attached to the side of the hovercraft.


    She detached the hoverboard remotely and the unit dislodged from the hovercraft.


    "Who are you?" Lance asked. Limping, he was ushered by the woman into the hoverboard. He felt the sore on his wrist with blood umting beneath his skin.


    He could see the grip of the Abominant. He could barely move his fingers, luckily, he could still grip something like riding a hovercraft.


    "Listen, I have no time to exin. Do you know how to do this?" Lance rode himself to the hovering craft and let his palms rest on the handles.


    "No, I haven¡¯t ridden one of these," Lance responded. He squinted at hisrades and they were immediately awakened as the woman injected a greenish serum into their thighs, granting them immediate energies.


    "You have to escape!" The woman ushered them up from the ground as soon as they regained consciousness.


    Both were speechless but the need to escape was undebatable. Hence, the two ex-soldiers hurried towards the hovercraft, limping too.


    They groaned upon climbing at the hovercraft and sat at the back of Lance.


    "Now, listen kid," the woman said, "the hovercraft is like riding a motorcycle. You squeeze the elerator in the right handle and it will elerate. To adjust elevation, this is the button right here. This is the fuel gauge. You have enough fuel to travel to Asphodel Cave. Yourrades were hiding there."


    "Are you sure you are fine on your own?" Lance asked.


    "Don¡¯t worry about me. I have been following you for days. You are on a dangerous mission, son of Erik. Now, go!"


    The woman stood over unto his hoverboard. A remote controller on her right hand, sped on her wrist and with buttons on her palms, was used to maneuver the board.


    "We have to go, the constrictor is losing its grip!" She was referring to the gooey bomb that imprisoned the Abominant Human.


    The creature shouted to muster such strength. They could hear the squeezing vines gradually loosen and give room for the creature to move his limbs.


    Lance squeezed the elerator just before the Abominant Human was freed from the vines.


    The woman sped up as fast as the board could go in the opposite direction to where the Asphodel cave would be.


    The hovercraft climbed up above the wall over the roofless floor. eleration was easy just by adjusting his squeeze. The elevation adjuster was challenging. To prevent their vehicle from colliding with obstructions, the rider should be quick with his interaction with the button at a quick timing.


    The craft wobbled as they descended from the third floor with Damian and Handsome at his back. They could hear the screams of a frustrated beast, echoing towards the dark atmosphere as they sped up to their escape.


    The rotors whirred loudly as Lance pressed hard on high elevation function to go over the boulders. Their weight also challenged the craft¡¯s capability and gave a maneuvering challenge.


    When they stabilized the elevation and the eleration, it was easy.


    "Iing, Asphodel Forest," Lance said as they approached the tree line.


    Lance knew that even hisrades had a lot of questions to discuss among themselves, especially about their savior, they chose to focus on their escape and back to embrace of the Asphodel cave.


    As the hovercraft flew beyond the height of trees, they saw the groundlings were pursuing them below. These were the unorganized groundlings as they were chaotic on how they moved. Unlike their previous encounter, strategic and efficient.


    The digital disy said six meters from the ground. No groundling could reach them. The hovercraft would climb steeper if they would pass a slopend, and would descend if they would pass onnd depressions or trenches.


    They were safe.


    Lance checked the time.


    1930 H


    It was way past daytime.


    "One hour to go for the cave!" Lance shouted to convey his message to hisrades at the back. The gas mask and the wind muffled his voice.


    The craft streaked through fogs alternately. Sometimes, they would pass on grainy breeze felt by their exposed skins.


    The contamination counter said the higher the elevation, the lower the level of contamination. It exined why the Abominants hated high elevations.


    The contaminated air served as their life source. Without it, they would perish. Well, it¡¯s only a theory that Lance deduced.


    "Iing!" It was Damian who said loudly. "Nine o¡¯clock!"


    It was unclear at first but a flock of birds wereing their way. The unkempt flock seemed like a moving fog from afar. But these ex-soldiers knew about them and quickly determined the lurking danger behind the camouge.


    "Evasive maneuvers!" Handsome suggested.


    They don¡¯t have guns, they don¡¯t have bombs, and they have nothing to defend. The birds of the night do not chirp, they caw so ominously. The noise echoed through the vast expanse, deafening if they were close enough.


    The Abominated birds moved in unison, flocking together to maintain a livable ecosystem. These birds trapped contaminated air from the ground and maintained a surging level to suffice their anatomical needs.


    By doing this, they maintained a level of contamination in the air and carried such contaminated level to wherever they migrate. Otherwise, the scant level of contamination of the altitude would kill them.


    Immediately, Lance squeezed the elerator to its maximum capability. The speedometer rose to 100 miles per hour. It was fast but the birds of the night were faster.


    "They can smell us!" Damian said. "And they can catch up!"


    "What are we going to do?" Lance asked. A cold chill loomed in his spine and crept through his limbs. It was his responsibility now to save hisrades.


    Oveing his fear was most viable at the moment.


    "The hovercraft will be faster closer to the ground," Damian suggested.


    Damian¡¯s suggestion was right. Even with the presence of groundlings, they could not catch up to them as these creatures could only run up to 80 miles per hour.


    Lance dove the hovercraft and adjusted the elevation to two meters from the ground, just before they were mobbed by the flock of birds. A few Birds of the night scarred them with their thorny beaks, and their twenty ws ravaging their vests.


    The frustrated predators hovered over them as they weaved through the Asphodel trees. The hovercraft sped up to 120 miles per hour on a clear pathway.


    The gap between them and the groundlings increased. Although they were invisible behind the shadow of trees, but their snarls were still perceptible. Therefore, slowing down was not an option.


    Fortunately, Lance was able to evade the obstructing trees along their path so deftly like he had ridden such a vehicle before. One wrong move to a crash would deliver their immediate demise.


    The groundlings would devour them if they stopped. Alternately, if they went higher the birds would manducate on their flesh. The only option was to go forward without stopping.


    After a few hours, they felt their vehicle climb up as they started to enter the foot of the Asphodel mountain, following a familiar sinuous road towards the cave.


    They were safe momentarily.

 Chapter 53: Questions

    "Creating an idea for an invention is easy nowadays. As technology grew, most of the Scientists invented more on the trending technology, devices, and appliances.


    To create a unique invention, look at the wastes of the City. There you can see the need for automation, for new inventions, as most Scientists, especially the middle and high-ssers, hated dirty jobs- like waste management."


    - Erik Berkley Lectures for his son, Lance


    ***


    Loading Profile¡­


    ________________________________________


    Name: Lance Berkley


    Age: 16


    Designation: Scrapper 2


    Origin: Bay City (2ndrgest surviving city in Oroz Continent)


    Avable Currency: 3700 units


    [Recent Ie Transactions]


    Salt Trade: 2000 units


    ________________________________________


    The convoy was sessful in reaching the cities without further monstrous encounters after their rest in Asphodel Cave.


    Jefferson and the rest of the remaining rebels were d that Lance and his tworades survived the crash. They already dered to themselves that the second cargo trucks were beyond saving.


    Lance and other members of the rebel faction were killed in action.


    And all efforts would go to waste if they tried to save the kid and the men in the second truck.


    They were run down by the groundlings almost to the point of destroying their vehicle. Luckily, they had their remaining Molotov bombs and some of the poison bombs that they used for an escape.


    Fortunately, they were untouched throughout the night. The death of one Human Abominant had discouraged the ambush party. Even though they knew that the cave was a safe hideout from the creatures, none of them had afortable sleep.


    All 15 of them. 7 was the number of casualties.


    "What happened, kid? Are you hurt?" Jefferson asked at the moment they arrived.


    "Nothing. We just ran towards the abandoned vige. Luckily, we found a hovercraft in the ruins," Lance replied. Trying to hide everything that would instill further horror in the group.


    "What about the Abominants?"


    "We used everyst one of our poison bombs and then we managed to escape."


    After a few weing moments, Lance tried to close his eyes to sumb to rest, however, his mind was racing with inquisitive thoughts. He knew that Damian and Handsome had the same questions in mind but they decided not to fulfill the urge.


    However, the thought of revisiting the fiery conversation about the Wolf had note to their lips again. The awkward thought needs proper energy and a proper setting.


    Lance would not forget, and certainly, he would revisit such thought.


    Sleeping away was their way of assuming that the horrors they faced would be a thing of the past. Their bodies were exhausted, bruised, scarred, wounded, and the pain had emerged as Adrenaline dissipated.


    However, they were wrong. The thought of Abominated Humans clung to their thoughts and closing one¡¯s eyes was haunting.


    Lance was sure that nightmares would fill his dreams.


    His survival could not be possible without the help of the mystery woman and the weapon she yielded that imprisoned the creature was familiar.


    During the incident, his thoughts were clouded with fear and the calctions for an escape. However, witnessing a nt-based weapon had struck his interest.


    Project Nightfall!


    His father, Erik,st project that resulted in his infamous descent was called Nightfall. His father mentioned it before but did not care to borate. Project Nightfall was a project tobine inorganic technology with organic matter.


    Like the cybeic tech of the Seer ¨C human fleshpatible with metallic technology.


    Such material, the kind of metal, was not yet known to him. Many had tried to arrive at such a theory, but no one hade close. No one could emte his father¡¯s work.


    Not even Menks.


    He thought maybe Nightfall was too valuable that his Father kept it a secret. The concept of the project was general knowledge to a few Scientists, but the method kept the others oblivious.


    It was maybe too great of an achievement that Erik Berkley, his father, could acquire fame, thus, shadowing the works of Menks. Therefore, thetter wanted the former gone.


    It was a sound theory, Lance had assessed.


    Reviewing his salt deal¡­


    __________________________


    Two truckloads of Salt: 8000 units


    Manpower cost [Rebels]: 4000 units


    Jonaz Garbage Hauling [Delivery to the buyer]: 2000 units


    Net ie: 2000 units


    ___________________________


    It was nned that Jonaz Garbage Hauling Services would deliver the Salt to Grebert. It was a ck-market deal that Grebert could amass units for such a transaction, dealing with other WWMD branches throughout the city.


    Jonaz was still the same with how he dealt with this transaction, testing the second party of the negotiation and to his favorable advantage. However, Lance had learned the negotiation techniques and decided with a firm offer of 2000 units for such delivery from Steelpoint Southern Wall to Wraithport WWMD.


    Jonaz happily epted the offer.


    "You are learning, kid!" Jonaz praised simultaneously shaking his hand.


    2000 ie for such a trade was a bad investment for Lance. They were risking their lives, almost killed themselves against the Abominants and he would only garner a small cut.


    ***


    Now, with his 3700 units, what would he do with it?


    Would he finally acquire the Energy elerator for 3000 units?


    If he would acquire such aponent, what¡¯s next? Was he going to build the Ultragenerator to power up Bay City?


    Why Bay City? What¡¯s the use of powering up such a city with the Abominant Hive on the way?


    ***


    These were the qualms that he would deal with if treading to path of acquiring an Energy elerator. Now that the Demetrian season was nearing, would it be sound to battle the Hive at its peak?


    He knew only the fact that his father had bestowed unto him that Bay City holds the key to defeating the Corporation and Menks for good. But a small hint of what it holds, he had nothing significant.


    Lance only holds what his father told him.


    The real consequence that he and themoners would face was the battle for Thirst this December. The salt delivery was not enough to just prevent such a shortage.


    ¡¯I did the best I can,¡¯ Lance thought. Knowing what happened with their mining, the rebels won¡¯t agree to another trip.


    ***


    Days he rested to recuperate on his physical strength, healing of whatever pain he had during the encounters. On the other hand, stabilizing his mental strength to let the mysterious questions slide for the moment and drive his focus on the next agenda at hand.


    His defense for his second invention ¨C a Robotic Floatation Device for Pollution Control or in short, RoFlo


    The Scientific Awards Committee (SAC) was a dependent organization established by the Corporation to scrutinize the submitted projects as a requirement for a Scientist to ascend its rank.


    Lance called them SACers


    A group of panelists would be present during the project presentation and they were high-ranking scientists, at least Electronic Tier 1 level. With their main objective was to throw waves of questions toward the invention.


    And the presenter would defend his project and satisfy the questions raised.


    The activity was also a process to identify conflicts with any present patents from other projects. The panelists should be the ones to identify such conflict.


    A defense would take hours, sometimes half a day or a day or two, depending on the project scope, and the panelists would not portray any leniency.


    They were intimidating for the low-level scientists.


    Facing them was an equivalent magnitude of facing level 1 Abominant. At least, a level 1 Abominat was easy to kill or evade. But not the panelists. They will skin the presenter alive.


    Hence, the presenter should have a metallic shield to fend off such skinning.


    As his second time, Lance would prepare for the defense for days, even a week if necessary.


    Defending his Bioscanner for water dispensers had him in the corners, exhausting his smart defenses, and almost being beaten to a pulp. If the panelists were relentless, the presenter should be fearful and confident.


    It was maybe luck had made his first project approved by the SAC and proceeded with manufacturing.


    Other Scientists had social advantages, their parents had influential positions in the city and the leniency would be obvious among the panelists.


    Unfortunately for Lance, he had no parents, not even rtives. He was only a lonely citizen who had friends considered to be wanted by the police or unregistered citizens called the Outsiders.


    So, whatever form of leverage for his social status was considered nothing. Only his intelligence, his wits, and the authenticity of his invention would sway the panelists to their approval.


    The next day was his big day. He had his prototype in a box, four of them. He managed to create four prototypes to represent the consistency of his design and he would disy a bigger water tank, with four times volume of pollution to be ced in the water.


    In the EazyCage unit held his mud, chopped food leftovers, and urine, to represent his Fats, Oil, and Grease (FOG) pollution for his Roflo to collect.


    ¡¯Who would be the panelists today?¡¯ Lance thought.

 Chapter 54: Sidetrack: Hive

    Bay City. Abominant Hive


    [The night Nathan failed]


    _____________________________________


    His knees felt weak, kneeling for a long time. The aura darkened when the Queen expressed her frustration. The fog thickened like cotton whenever she had to release anger.


    Their dead brethren only came second, and what concerns her the most was his failure and the death of his Adjutant.


    "Where is your Adjutant!" The Queen asked, screaming. Her voice reverberated to the nearby structures. What made her voice horrifying, especially when she expressed anger, were two simultaneous voices. One was hoarse and strong, overpowering the weak and sharp secondary voice.


    It was the third time she asked and it was the third time that Nathan had not answered her.


    Nathan felt an overwhelming st that burdened his shoulders, forcing him to bow down. Understanding it was way beyond hisprehension. He treated it as a natural phenomenon.


    Her rage manifested on the surroundings, on their respective pods. The pods where the Abominants sleep had ck exoskeletons, sheathed with a fine sheet of skin. As the Queen rages in anger, the pods would turn reddish.


    And each pod had a neural connection between the Queen and the hive underlings.


    Despite Nathan¡¯s silence, she already knew the answer. The Entity told her. The Entity conveyed information to all levels of the Hive swarm. The recent ambush was only a few miles from where their Hive sits, eventually within the proximity of the Entity.


    However, the Queen was always stubborn. She needed verbal answers from the defeated Overlord.


    "Whatever answer you woulde up with, it is uneptable!" The Queen reprimanded.


    With all the evil that they desired in the world and humans, the Queen¡¯s love for his underlings was beyond measure.


    Silhouette figures of lower level Abominants cowered in the corners behind their pods, or behind the abandoned structures. The ones who could fly had already flown as the cloud of hatred had swirled above the Queen.


    Power defined the Queen, the life source of one hive. However, with all her power, she could not stray far beyond the reach of her designated hive.


    Hence, Overlords were born.


    Nathan needed to face punishment. It was protocol for every failure they made, moreover, it fed their fear. Facing the consequences would nullify their fear.


    He could escape the punishment; however, every fiber of his sanity hadpelled him toply.


    "It¡¯s a new weapon," He finally answered.


    "What weapon?" The queen hissed.


    Her pod opened, she had thergest pod in the hive like a brain, connected to the other pods by tubes, like blood vessels. A viscous liquid oozed as she emerged from the skin-sheathed opening of an exoskeleton.


    Elevated from the ground, her pod was precariously hanging with root-like veins embedded with the concrete structure behind it.


    The slimy liquid bathed the ground below it and her bare feetnded as she descended slowly. The viscous ck metallic liquid made the floor slippery for a normal human being.


    But her skin had thickened, and small hair-like spikes emerged from her pores, preventing her from slipping. She had perfect form, and her ck skin protected her all over from external threats.


    For what power potential she holds, Nathan had no idea.


    The organic skin tubes detached from the pod connected to the Queen¡¯s back. She sauntered towards thervae incubation pods. Hundreds of them spread all over the city road.


    She grazed her touch towards them and they vibrated. The developingrvae were happy and energized whenever she touched them.


    He remembered when he hadplete control of his thoughts, of his body, when he was human, he entered into these pods. Before anything else, he remembered the City where the hive habituated.


    Bay City.


    He remembered when he was a scientist, nurturing his mind towards the inventions of Science. There were times he was overwhelmed with brainstorming and stressed to create the prototypes, but everything was now a blur.


    He knew he was intelligent, however, he was careless. He wanted to study the Abominants. He wanted to make a vine and the Abominated animals were his test subjects. Day and night, he was in theb. His work almost made him insane. He made a mistake but could not identify when.


    How could the contamination invade his system? He had fevers at first. He knew the symptoms of prolonged exposure with the Aerobic contamination. It had no cure and his life expectancy should not exceed to seven days.


    Suddenly, everything was turned to blur. His hardships became garbage but something new emerged inside of him.


    The contamination had invaded him like an acute disease, uncurable, and painful. Nathan remembered that it started with the boils on his neck, and then down to his stomach. For a few days, the boils became rot, and ckish, disintegrating the dermis of his skin like it was exposed to mes.


    What he looked like was not his concern anymore but the pain borne by the disease and munching its way to his innards, searing heat, and sleeplessness.


    His dreams became nightmares.


    The Entity called them and assigned them to the nearest hive. The Queen had nurtured them, taught them how to eliminate the pain, and synchronize with the invading contamination inside his blood.


    She promised for a full transformation would realize their full potential. More than human. One with the nature. One with the Contamination.


    One pod opened andpelled him to enter. To his sight, the pod opened like a flower, luring him into its sweet embrace.


    He submerged himself inside the pod and the opening closed behind him. A soothing liquid engulfed his body and submerged in a euphoric embrace.


    Tubes came out of nowhere like worms, borrowed their small circr teeth on his skin, tongues deployed through the tubes, weaving through his muscle tissues and into his spine.


    A surge had been experienced his nervous system.


    Then, Nathan¡¯s nightmares became dreams.


    Dreams of an ideal world, of harmony, and happiness. He felt that his human thoughts fading into bitter memories, drowning in a deep water that he could not reach.


    Every day inside the pod, controlling his thoughts was beyond his capability as if something was injecting the images of his mind, overpowering his subconsciousness.


    Until there was silence. Peace.


    Others like him were given positions within the Hive. There were four of them in the hive. The fifth one was the Queen.


    As a Battalion Overlord, he answered directly to the Queen. However, there were beings above him, which they called Executors.


    The Queen had her special assignments beyond the scope of being an Overlord. These Executors were the Queen¡¯s direct descendants and aplished her will to the letter without question and regard of their own lives as if they were not their own.


    Nathan knew the magnitude of her disappointment. She loved her creations. She always watched over thervae pod as she dislodged herself from a sleep state. Or when she was mad.


    Arge abominated dog purred as it invaded their space, passing between him and the Queen. His sides were wounded from the battle ¨C bullet marks. But it seemed that it was victorious. They always were.


    It was one of the Queen¡¯s Executor.


    Her eyes opened. The same color eyes with Nathan, yellowish pupils with dark eyeballs. Her gaze darted towards the cowering Overlord.


    "You know, it is not easy to create them. Each of them is a part of me. And you squandered them away like garbage!


    "My Queen, apologies. I won¡¯t fail you next time!" Nathan responded, maintaining his kneeling.


    "You almost failed your mission thest time," The Queen hissed. "You let those filthy humans kill half of your Battalion! Now, your Adjutant had perished! It is not easy to mold someone like you. You are different from the majority of the human race, so you are precious to me, and Johnny too!"


    Your adventure continues at NovelBin.C?m


    "My Queen, if I may?"


    "You may not, Overlord!" Her voice raised, thunderous for him. "Let me finish. You should not have sent him if you knew about the weapon. You should have tread carefully. Hunt like a predator. Not getting too cocky because of your superior strength and speed.


    It takes a lot of my essence, my energy, and my power, to synchronize my Contamination to you! And Johnny was a total waste of my precious essence," She ambled close to him, wanting to emphasize something. "Do you want to be devoured by him?"


    He referred to a colossal-sized Abominated dog that rested behind her.


    With her finger wafting in the air, the Queenmanded and tube worms emerged from her pod, slowly creeping into the resting Abominated dog.


    "Let your wounds be healed," The Queen said. The tubes warbled as they released healing fluids to the wounded dog.


    "I will avenge Johnny, my Queen. Command me to infiltrate Axe Central City, and I will find the kid who killed Johnny," Nathan suggested.


    "Do what you must! Return to me victorious. Or else, the Executors will do it for you!"

 Chapter 55: Sidetrack: Encampment

    Nathan


    ***


    He had been running for days. Abominants travel on their feet without the luxury of vehicles.


    Their strength was their blessing and curse at the same time. Tiresome had not visited him during his marathon for days, it was his blessing. Although a curse was that they were provided with inhuman speed and strength, the Queen expected him to run without stopping.


    ¡¯Why not just the Queen make a flying Abominant that could carry us?¡¯ He thought.


    Instead, he was apanied by a Level 2 Abominated Monkey. He asked for a horse to travel faster; however, the Queen wanted him to climb up the wall if he tried to infiltrate Axe Central City.


    Therefore, an abominated Monkey was a viable option. The Queen called it the Blomordan.


    Unfortunately, he only brought a level 2. His size only soared a little taller than him, but muscr. It looks like a regr ape from afar but hairier, with teeth sharper, of course, abnormal-sized ws for effective climbing.


    With his current appearance, infiltrating the city would rm the citizens at first sight. Luckily, gas masks were still worn inside the city for fashion.


    Hence, he needed a gas mask and some human clothes to conceal his true identity. As nned, he was going to look for an Outsider Camp. They destroyed most of the camps within their radar. Especially in the southern parts.


    He went North.


    Scouting from mountain to mountain looking for possible human camps. He knew that these camps were possibly situated in high altitudes which the low-level Abominants feared due to low air contamination levels.


    He was worried about Blomordan.


    He was not half-human like him.


    ¡¯Blomordan, can you take the air?¡¯ Nathan asked telepathically.


    Atst, Nathan found a small encampment near the Kantora Mountains, fifty miles from Asphodel forest. A few days of travel on foot would take him to Axe Central City in less than a week.


    Blomordan did not answer, as all of them, but it was a mystery that he knew their answers. Blomordan could take the atmosphere to the identified altitude in Kantora, however, the monkey will be weakened gradually.


    So, any human confrontation, Blomordan could not significantly assist. In that case, Nathan and the monkey should infiltrate the encampment in stealth.


    Luckily, Kantora Mountain had dead trees. It would conceal their approach and a vital requirement for their stealth. Humans may have also thought that the dead trees would keep their location a secret from the Abominants.


    Nathan perched on top of a dead tree, achieving a proper vantage point towards the encampment. There were around 20 houses, fenced with dead wood twigs.


    Around 100 people were inside the encampment, including children and women.


    His goal was to acquire a gas mask and some human clothes. In and out, if possible, without further encounter.


    Heavy breathing could be heard from the weakening monkey, also perched beside him.


    ¡¯Stay here, Blomordan. Let¡¯s not risk your life. For your purpose is vital for the walls of Axe Central,¡¯ Nathanmunicated.


    Blomordan agreed. He climbed down the tree to conserve his energy. The air was less contaminated at the top of the dead tree, hence,borious for the monkey on top.


    Nathan jumped high, above the sprawling tree tops. Descending, he immediately spreads his Chiroptera between his long fingers and glide above the human huts.


    Hovering above the encampment, Nathan saw a few Outsider guards with rifles, walking about the fences. They had not the slightest idea that he entered the premises.


    He could kill them easily; however, further deaths were unnecessary momentarily.


    Nathan only needed one house to intrude and grab only what he needed. If amotion was necessary, he was ready to kill the people inside and allow the others to live without further bloodshed.


    Hended on thest house beyond the reach of the guards. The lights were on.


    Slowly, he knocked on the wooden door.


    A ruckus could be heard from the inside. Then the door opened. It was a male human, mid-fifties, medium built, and shock defined his expression.


    "Good evening," Nathan greeted.


    However, the male human took out his handgun. He was fast. The human had kept his gun behind his back. However, Nathan caught the human¡¯s arm, and the former squeezed it until his bones broke.


    The human screamed alerting other members of his family. Hopefully, the scream was not loud enough to alert the entire encampment.


    Hurriedly, the mother took out the rifle from the room and pointed it at Nathan. To prevent further noise, Nathan darted as fast as he could, catching the mother¡¯s trigger hand and pulling the rifle away from her.


    Nathan pped the mother and knocked her out in the process. He saw the children were emaciated at the corner of the room. Three of them.


    The sight triggered him. Their faces defined that what they saw was a monster in their midst.


    The two older children did not scream, the younger one did after seeing her mother on the ground, neck twisted grimacingly.


    Twisting the child¡¯s neck would silence them and would not alert the encampment. However, when he started to enter the room, the father tackled him from behind.


    "What are you?" The human male shouted. Nathan collided with the wooden wall and felt a small stab in his upper back.


    The de buried through his skin and into his lung.


    Before the human could stab Nathan again, thetter resisted and twisted his upper body to face his assant. His one hand was free and dug his fingers into the human¡¯s neck.


    The dead body dropped to the floor and blood gushed out.


    Expectedly, the children cried and alerted the whole vige.


    "How unfortunate," Nathan said to himself. Experience more tales on NovelBin.C?m


    He heard footfalls outside the house. He spared the children as they weren¡¯t a threat to him.


    Facing his enemies out the door would be unwise. They could have serious firepower that could hurt him. If they weresers, it would be unfortunate.


    Therefore, an attack from up above would be a wiser move.


    He jumped through the roof and hovered on top of the houses. He saw a lot of male humans gathered outside the clearing.


    "Above us!" The other screamed.


    Then the bullets came, missing their marks. The sky was dark, and his skin was dark which presented difficulty to the men below. Having a ck skin has its perks.


    "Bullets. How weak," he said inwardly.


    Quickly, Nathan descended at the back of the other house, shielding himself from the attackers.


    He wanted to escape, facing deeper into the mountains. However, it was the opposite way to where his destination would be. He decided to face his enemies instead.


    Killing was insatiable for a monster like him. It was wired to them, programmed.


    They hunted him, there were thirty of them who responded first as they went around the house where Nathannded.


    "Monster!" Most of them shouted. And they died so quickly with swift attacks. They do not have armor, unlike the police, only their gas masks and clothing.


    They presented no challenge for the Battalion Overlord.


    After fifteen heartbeats, thirty men died by his hands. Limbs were separated, others had their heads decapitated, and others had their innards pulled out.


    The gore scenery filled the external premises of the houses.


    Then the others came, with the same firepower. They had this determination that Nathan had rarely witnessed.


    "What are you?" The screaming came from random Outsiders.


    "What is that hideous face!"


    "Is it human?"


    "An Abominated human? The rumors are true then!"


    These were the screams, despite that, they were irrelevant.


    Even though the Outsiders knew that they could not win, they still attacked without being disheartened. They hardly fired. He was fast, like a blur to them. Weaving through the crowd, slicing, attacking the most vital parts of the human anatomy.


    The Outsiders were different. They were brave.


    Nathan chuckled upon the sight of them, foolishly continuing to fire their guns. He could take the bullets. But notsers. He took a few shots but it did not slow him down.


    Twenty heartbeats, another thirty were dead. He could smell the cowering Outsiders inside the houses. He sensed their fears. He sensed their cries.


    His human thoughts mored once again, delivering an internal blow to his heart. His heart squeezed upon his doing.


    ¡¯Conscience!¡¯ He thought.


    He recognized the feeling. And it was unpleasant. The Queen had taught them to be resilient with the Human thoughts thaty dormant deep within.


    ¡¯Fight them! Fight them you weakling!¡¯ He convinced himself. Pain on his head loomed. Confusion had filled his thoughts.


    It was his doing, and his wish to make the Queen happy. Hence, such agony should be embraced and conquered.


    He knew that he was beyond the Entity¡¯s proximity and that his human thoughts once again emerged and tried to take control of his body. However, he strengthened his mind over time and relentlessly disregarded the suggestions of his human thoughts.


    He grabbed what he needed, a gas mask and some human clothes, and his next destination would be Axe Central City.

 Chapter 56: Suckers

    Science Awards Committee Hall, Bloomforge Enve


    Presentation of invention ¨C Robotic Floater Pollution Control Device or RoFlo


    ***


    The SACers had their way of intimidating Scientists who would present their inventions for patent registrations.


    Their racist stares and condescending approach to questioning define everything about the Awards Committee. It was if they were designed to be intimidating or just to discourage dreamy scientists. They supposedly were the front liners of new and untapped fields of Science - making the world a better ce in every invention patented.


    That is why, Lance called them SACers (Suckers).


    Usually, there were four of them and he heard among the halls that a new member added more of the agony. Well, he knew the four were tenuredmittee members and the fifth could be a tenured Scientist too that he knew. Lance researched about them; their expertise, their field of work, and even their personalities.


    What wasmon with them was that they were old enough and experienced enough to scrutinize new technologies. They were now the pirs of the Corporation, molding the technology to great heights.


    All of them were Electronic Tiers and above to qualify to be a member of SAC.


    His previous presentation had given him vital characteristics of each panelist. Undoubtedly, they had absolute knowledge in their respective fields.


    [The Panelists]


    Mister Tanaka, an Electronic Tier 2, mastered the fields of Mechanical engineering and furthered his study about perpetual rotating energy designs. He was in histe 40s, a foreigner from the Far East Continent, and had adjusted his culture to the Western cultures of Oroz. He was one of the Engineers who was awarded for the Wall¡¯s design, the perpetual energy cycle of the wall¡¯s power.


    He was the one who questioned Lance if he knew a name called Erik Berkley during Lance¡¯s Bioscanner Water dispenser presentation. Lance shrugged and said, "There are a lot of Berkleys in Bay City. It is where the Berkley n originated. Probably he is a far rtive of mine."


    "Really?" Mister Tanaka insisted.


    Lance nodded and responded, "Berkley is one of the originating families of Bay City and established a strongmunity with other originating families in the sector. If I would ask, who is Erik Berkley?"


    Lance feigned a question.


    Your next chapter is on NovelBin.C?m


    "It¡¯s unimportant," Tanaka shrugged the thought and went back to his questioning about the project.


    Well, his features strongly resembled his mother, so Mister Tanaka would just let his suspicion go by. He was one of the brilliant scientists in the field of Mechanical Engineering and his fame and level of ascension greatly contributed from Erik¡¯s project.


    Doctor Antoine Cultz of Cultz Industries, an Electronic Tier 4, a little bit older than Mr. Tanaka, Mastered the fields of Electrical Engineering. He was known for the Opt, a mobile phone used by the Government and Authorities tomunicate within the walls of Axe Central City. As the Electromaic Spectrum was unavable due to atmospheric contamination, Dr.


    Cultz designed Underground Communication Cables using optical energy wavelengths to transmit information within the walls of Axe Central.


    The third panelist was Engineer Greggory Michaels, an Electronic Tier 4, who had finished a few specialized courses in Electronics Engineering, even aerodynamics engineering, and weapons design. He never had a Master¡¯s degree but his specialized courses were of equal correspondence.


    Tenacious in questioning, Engineer Greggory would even question electronic schematic diagrams on how the inventor achieved the most frugal way of usingponents.


    His belief transcended deeply in design efficiency and frugality. The worst nightmare of all the inventions did Engineer Greggory have be. The inventor should know the design by heart.


    Hundreds of inventors had failed to patent their designs because of Engineer Greggory. Therefore, Lance repeatedly reyed his presentation in terms of Electronic Schematic diagrams ¨C the sensors, the programmable logic controllers, and even the coding itself.


    Other Inventors would create a team to defend all facets of engineering just to pass beyond Engineer Greggory.


    Doctor Zee Andradez, Menks¡¯ prot¨¦g¨¦, and one who designed the Unitech shades where Menks assigned the production oversight. He mastered the arts of Marketing through Information Tech Engineering. He was in his early fifties, and the most energetic among the panelists.


    His questions were mostly about how to mass produce it after the invention was patented or the foreseen better way of mass producing it and the possible enhancements with further applications. He was more concerned about making profits for the manufacturing industries that created the invention.


    Hence, a scientist should not only defend his prototype within the confines of his study but years beyond, touching generations. If you can¡¯t satisfy the questions given, then it will be a point deduction.


    And the SACers were very stringent in giving points.


    Doctor Zee was an Industrialist Tier 1, the highest level among them but he was the most lenient among all others. Luckily, Lance knew about them already at his first presentation, and the profiles given by his father, Erik, added to his advantage.


    The fifth one was still a mystery.


    The marbled floor shimmered against the lighting above,prised of low-hanging, luxurious digital chandeliers. He had his presentation boots on, metallic soles nking against marble, and the best among his clothes had only been worn twice in his lifetime.


    He even had an aromatic scent on him which augmented him from trash smell to a fiery re scent. He loved the scent ¨C it stimted his senses.


    Tworge metallic doors separated him from the intimidating panelists. The metal works of the door irked Lance once again like that of the Science Aspirants Registration Service (SARS) building.


    Unnecessary use of fine metals.


    The fine and smooth metal works, with light silver and dark silver thread streaks along the surface, and the thickness of the doors, seemed to be expensive to forge. Mixing umon to rare metallicponents.


    Lance pushed against the doors. They were heavy-looking but they moved so easily with only minimal effort.


    The heavy doors separated him from the people he wanted to take down. The same people that had great influence in the Corporation, led by Levi Menks. These were the people who greatly contributed to his father¡¯s fall.


    And masked everything good about his father to the public and reced it with immense shame. Such treachery was horrendous. However, it was not the time to unleash vengeful emotions.


    He needs to lured them to his work, maintain the mystery, and catch them by surprise.


    Impossible it may seem but Lance was willing to suffer great lengths.


    As the doors opened, bright lights greeted him. They hadrge screens at the back of the panelists to emte a bright sky and a rainforest that mantled an array of mountains.


    A perfect picturesque. Such Irony was bold.


    The room wasrge enough to fit a hundred people. High ceilings withrge statues at the corners. Statues of famous scientists¡¯ generations before ¨C the founding fathers of the surviving cities.


    The founding fathers started everything from the start, the first generation executing the Governing Laws Department (GLD) that created the system. Also, making the Scientists the true rulers of governance.


    Lance hated the idea and history of the Founding Fathers. He was confused if the founders wanted to achieve harmony or control.


    In Lance¡¯s generation, it seemed that the GLDs were amended in so many ways to leverage many of the loopholes of thews in favor of the Corporation.


    After his iris adjusted against the weing bright light and as the intimidating aura subsided the moment he stepped into the room, the five panelists were on high tables, lined up soaring high above the presenter.


    Hisrge water tank was in the center of the room. The four panelists were present. As he trained his eyes to the fifth panelist, he was shocked.


    Seeing her had made him immovable.


    It was Jaqi, the founder of the Committee for Illegal Scrap Use (CISU). She remained mysterious and there were only a few things he knew about her. She founded an organization that he thought it was only made up. Then he knew that CISU was a real organization with real authority over the police.


    She was a Mechanical Tier 3, the youngest among the panelists, and was the inventor of the ShowerSmart ¨C A shower that would recycle water by filtration. Simply as it may sound but the application served a greater magnitude for conserving water.


    Her being was shrouded further with mystery as she was now a new member of SACers.


    ¡¯Who is this girl?¡¯ Lance thought as he ambled at the center of the room.


    He expected a gleeful greeting would wee him inside the room from Jaqi, however, it was the opposite. Her pretty face became fierce and intimidating to look at.


    He smiled at her and received nothing in return but a piercing stare. Her smoky eyes became sharp and with utter prejudice. Even so, her beauty radiates, brighter than the illumination of the room.


    "Wee, Lance Berkley. We will begin your presentation with an overview. You may now begin," It was Mr. Zee who started the conversation.

 Chapter 57: Presentation

    The air of uncertainty filled the atmosphere. Whatever happens, he must find a way to make his invention passable by the Awards Committee. Jaqi may not be of help.


    He assessed that she could be the worst among the panelists as she needed to show her fellow panelists that she deserved the seat.


    He hoped it otherwise.


    At first, before he could say anything, a sharp difort had filled his throat. It was dry. In addition, he felt his stomach rumbled inside like he was hungry.


    Well, he was hungry.


    He never had his breakfast as being full would diminish his cognitive activity. As food was digested in his digestive tract, blood flows towards the area reducing the blood supply and oxygen towards his brain, thus, reducing the supplement to the brain¡¯s optimal function.


    But he needed to start anyway, in any form he could.


    His voice made him concerned, it could be awkward at first and would portray a negative first impression.


    Instead, he made a curt bow just to dy freezing moments.


    Without uttering a word, he took out four spherical prototypes from his knapsack, activated them each, and ced them in the water tank ced at the center of the room.


    They floated.


    ¡¯Ok, what¡¯s next?¡¯ he thought.


    "Lance Berkley, do not break protocol. Before you perform the functionality of your prototype, you need to give us an overview first," Dr. Zee said. He was the lead Panelist.


    Lance halted and listened.


    He felt the involuntary shivering behind his skull. It might be because of Jaqi¡¯s presence that he felt so weird. He felt unprepared despite his weeks of practice.


    Simting his lines alone in his room for weeks every time he had the time to linger inside his apartment. After he tended his Aiveez nursery production in his room, he would review his RoFlo presentation.


    He straightened his voice, smoothened his clothes, and started to speak.


    "Greetings, most honored Committee¡­" his voice was hoarse. "Ahem¡­ I called this project, RoFlo."


    "Don¡¯t be nervous, Lance Berkley. You did well on yourst defense. This should be a walk in the park," said Mister Tanaka.


    Lance nodded and squinted at Jaqi. She winked.


    "RoFlo¡­ or Robotic Floating Device for Waste Water Pollution Control," he found his momentum. He found courage. That smile couldunch a thousand projects, he thought.


    "You may be wondering how these metallic casings floated in the water." Lance continued. "Well, I mixed umon level metals and made their characteristics into a certain level of specific density that could float in water. I used umon level metal binder, Benzium to achieve such level."


    "Their main objective is to have an additional stage for our Waste Water Treatment Facilities to filter our effluent wastewater in an aerobic tank. Just to impart general knowledge to the wastewater treatment ¨C the effluent wastewater discharged from our establishments, manufacturing nts, and even residential andmercial sectors, would undergo septage treatment underground.


    This is the first stage. The septage treatment would eliminate about 80% of the present bacteria borne with the wastewater discharge because of Tyllrium and 30% of solid waste trapped within its chambers."


    "Secondly, after septage, the wastewater is then passed along an equalization tank.


    Such a tank would mix the entire water volume by the use of a motorized mixer then evenly distribute the pollutants, unmp the lumped pollution, turning the lumps into specks, then pass by a series of aerobic tanks by the use of conventional bacterial function to gather another 30% pollutants into sludge, which in turn sank them at the bottom of the tank living 40% of pollution in wastewater.


    After a few hours of treatment, the chambers would open and pass along another series of FOG (Fats, oil, and Grease) pollutants treatment living only 10% of pollution in water."


    "Now," Lance had inserted the general knowledge of wastewater to establish further momentum in his brain before he would dwell on the most intricate parts of his robotic design. "Do we want 10% of that pollution in our wastewater?" Experience tales at NovelBin.C?m


    Nobody answered. Nobody would dare answer the question trailing to the disclosure of one of the secrets of the Corporation ¨C recycling of wastewater into potable water for human consumption.


    The thought of it was immoral - water with urine and feces would be filtered into drinking water.


    They wanted to eliminate the 10% of pollutants in the water. But the 10% volume seemed to be stubborn to treat. They flowed with water with almost the same fluidity. The water would take another cycle of filtration (micro-filtration) before water filtration for potability ¨C -softening, hard metals treatment, and further sediment filtration.


    This was where the problem existed. Micro filtrations could eliminate the 10% pollutants but would take days to eliminate them. Secondly, the bacterial treatment by using another round of Tyllrium chambers would eliminate the remaining 20% of pathogens.


    The Panelists knew that the Microfiltration process required arge area to install the chambers and currently, one sector would take three city blocks for only such tedious processing.


    Theck of salt supply also added to the predicament in microfiltration. Salt portrays the most important part of water softening to eliminate the hardness of water for one to consume a refreshing water. Not that it would give one a sore throat.


    If not for the supply of salt, the 10% pollutant presence in wastewater was second to the problem. The volume of water consumption increased every year and the current capacity of these micro-filtrations were already at its peak.


    An additional facility was the least they coulde up with, but it would cost them billions of units, sacrificing other programs that served their middle-ss and high-ss citizens.


    Connecting the dots, Lance knew that these were the problems that created the Death by Thirstst year.


    Lance had paused. He expected that nobody would answer that question.


    "I don¡¯t want my wastewater to have 10% in my wastewater," It was Jaqi who answered.


    Lance smiled and executed a curt bow.


    "Thank you for that, Miss Jaqi," Lance said. "Yes, we don¡¯t want 10% of pollution in our Wastewater. We want it to eliminate the pollution at 100% before reaching the microfiltration chambers. How to do it? RoFlo would do the trick."


    Lance observed discernible reactions from the panelists. Mister Tanaka whispered to Doctor Cultz and Doctor Zee whispered to Engineer Greggory.


    Lance knew he hit the jackpot. He knew that the brains of the Corporation had been working with the predicament for years, augmenting the microfiltration. However, they neglected the possibility of improving the prior stages such as an aerobic tank, which may eliminate the need for microfiltration of 10% of pollutants.


    Only the pathogen removal by Tyllrium and water softening by salt would be left in the process.


    "Ok, Lance. It¡¯s a good introduction," Doctor Zee interjected. "We already know where you are going with this. This is an important project. Before we will scrutinize your schematic designs and materialpositions, show us first how they work. We are baffled with the result that this may present."


    "Thanks, Doctor Zee," Lance responded. "This water tank consists of 1000 liters of clean water. This represents the aerobic tank that we have in our WWMDs (Wastewater Management Department) in ind sectors. And I have four of my RoFlo floating on the water. Lance took out the prepared gallons of F.O.G. (Fats, Oil, and Grease) and poured them inside the tank.


    Filling the tank with ckish pollution, Jaqi questioned. She also studied water pollution for his ShowerSmart project.


    "Can you borate on theposition of your F.O.G. for us to appreciate your project¡¯s effectiveness?" Jaqi asked.


    It was a good question that Lance forgot to mention to them.


    "Well, it is 40% Chopped food waste, 20% of mud, and 40% of human urine," Lance said.


    Jaqi nodded and Lance proceeded with the presentation.


    The ckish liquid now filled the clean water, gradually invading the colorless portions with pollution.


    "The volume I poured in the water tank represents the 10% of water pollution in the tank, granting the 90% of it was already addressed by the conventional treatments. Activating the RoFlo, now!"


    Lance remote-controlled them and the four floating metallic balls hissed, releasing fine thread-like strands, like tentacles invading the space in the water tank.


    The ck minuscule specks that mixed with clear water were drawn towards the tentacles gradually.


    "Based on my experimental runs, this device would collect all minute solid pollutants in the water for about 30 minutes," Lance exined.


    The panelists were awed with what they saw. The tentacles somewhat served as mas to the ck specks, harvesting them portion by portion in the water.


    They observed great progress for around 10 minutes. The water became clearer.


    "It¡¯s a great progress, Lance Berkley. What is your current rank again?" Mister Tanaka questioned.


    It was not yet the official questions that they would grill the presenter. They were just awed with the progress after which the true war would ensue.


    "Scrapper level 2, Mr. Tanaka," Lance responded.


    A pleased expression filled Tanaka¡¯s face.


    "Ok. While we wait for 30 minutes, let¡¯s give him our official questions first," Doctor Zee said.


    Then the true war began.

 Chapter 58: Presentation 2

    "Miss Jaqi, you do the honors," Doctor Zee said.


    Jaqi nodded with seriousness in his expression. "Components used in the casings and tentacles?"


    It was an expected question from the founder of CISU. CISU¡¯s best interest filtered projects that only use legal scrapponents from scrap yards within the City.


    If found to be out of the Scrap inventory, or maybe aponent was smuggled, that¡¯s when CISU came in with the full might of the police force on its back.


    Lance suspected that like all other established regting agencies especially born from the Corporation that had been authorized with intricate regtions to impose amendedws.


    Her age, her authority, and the respect given by his fellow panelists added more to the mystery behind Jaqi.


    ¡¯Who is this girl?¡¯


    It took obvious moments that Lance was not able to answer Jaqi¡¯s question. Then Jaqi raised the concern, "Lance Berkley of Steelpoint, can you share with us the breakdown of theponents used in RoFlo?"


    "Well. The casings. I used umon materials from the Scrapyard tier 2. This is an enhanced Stainless steel number 303-A from second-generation residential service robots. Heated Benzium ted the entire surface of the spheres to maintain a certain buoyancy and floating capabilities."


    Jaqi nodded, somewhat an agreeable expression. It boosted more confidence in the inventor.


    "We will confirm your material derations with the assessment team after your presentation. Remember, Lance Berkley, you will be forfeited if you dere the data falsely." Jaqi reminded. Then she asked, "What about the tentacles?"


    "The tentacles are umon level too, just like its casings. The strands were extracted from Maum metallic wires from PLC boards of AI skulls."


    The term ¡¯AI skulls¡¯ was a terminology used by scientists to represent the widely used Artificial Intelligence core processors, usually ced inside the humanoid robots¡¯ heads.


    "It is also shown in the schematic soft copies I sent with the other panelists the list of regtedponents used in this project," Lance continued.


    "Unfortunately, it seems I am the only one who missed receiving the soft copy," Jaqi said.


    "Apologies, Miss Jaqi. I will send it to you shortly," Lance responded.


    Lance took out his CloudArchive tab and sent RoFlo¡¯s details to Jaqi.


    "It¡¯s fine, Lance Berkley. I had not informed the staff that I would be joining this presentation, since this is my first time."


    "What pollutants maized towards the tentacles?" It was Doctor Cultz who questioned. He had his Masters of Further Education in Advance Electrical Engineering and his question defined his expertise.


    Lance knew that Doctor Cultz had an idea about maism as Electrical motors do and it was almost the same concept.


    "Our wastewater by design has a mixture of 15% heavy metals that we cannot see in the naked eye. Because of their characteristics, these pollutants tend to collect heavy metals in the water. The tentacles with a jolt of minute electric shock in calibrated rhythms maized the pollutants towards them.


    The Maum wire has the characteristic that able to amplify the maic rhythm to maize to even the smallest heavy metals in the water."


    "Hmm¡­interesting," Doctor Cultz said. "The Maum is a sensitive substance with an electrical threshold that could be oxidized in the shortest amount of time if set beyond its threshold. Tell me your process."


    "It is true, Doctor Cultz. This is the most challenging part of reaching within its threshold with its surface area reduced. Maum has a threshold of 0.005 microvolts with the intricate of minuscule voltage regtors inside the spheres to control the surges."


    Lance took one sphere out of the water just a little above it and opened a hatch with a digital panel. Then he clicked a button and the readings were disyed on the digital screen.


    "In this digital disy, the voltage feed towards the tentacles is below the threshold, 0.0045 microvolts to stabilize the electricity, prevent premature oxidization, and maintain its maism."


    Doctor Cultz nodded and trained his hand on the tab. They were recording the points every after the panelist questioned the inventor.


    "Have youputed the amount of metallic substance in the F.O.G?"


    It was Doctor Greggory. His questions were always the challenging ones. Lance had not studied the metallicposition and levels that attracted with the specks of F.O.G. And the question gave him a sharp stab to his heart that made his beating more pronounced.


    "I haven¡¯t measured the metallic amount in F.O.G. but in theory, there is a certain range in terms of specific gravity of metallic substance that would attract in any electromaic force.


    Applying Brakners Theory of micromaism, in a microscopic spectrum of surface areas of metals, the maism should have a multiplier of one hundred in surface area, multiplied by the amperage of the maic source would activate electrons for metallic attraction."


    His answer made him release an inward sigh. Although he had not actually have studied about it, he knew the concept of it.


    Doctor Greggory gave him a hard look, his nonchnt stares turned to sour.


    "Are you sure about Brakners?" The Doctor asked.


    "I know, Doctor Greggory. Brakner¡¯s theory is debatable as of the moment as our current equipment could not solidly support his ims. But it is the soundest of all the theories rting to micromaism and it is the only theory that the Academy of Science has considered in Micromaism and Microelectronics courses."


    Theories remained theories if not support by hard evidence conducted by Science Authorities. Brakner¡¯s theory was not studied because of theck of high-tech equipment that could measure such ims.


    Doctor Greggory only nodded. Doctor Zee whispered to Doctor Greggory, and thetter nodded. He only hoped that his defense was agreeable to the panelists.


    "How do you know the lectures of Microelectronics and Micromaism courses? You haven¡¯t gone to a collegiate course yet." It was Mister Tanaka who asked. His line of questioning always clouded with the premise that Lance was the son of a long-lost brilliant Scientist.


    "It is true Mister Tanaka. I haven¡¯t gone to collegiate courses yet. But as an Aspiring scientist like me, I frequented my visits to High Academia Archives of Science Knowledge."


    A truth in what he said. The High Academia Archives was an establishment that holds all the knowledge and fields of Science throughout the history after Nuclear World War and the salvaged knowledge before it.


    It was a digital library of their current age.


    It was unfortunate for Mister Tanaka that Lance¡¯s project had no perpetual energy design that would spark the former¡¯s interest. The spheres were powered by batteries, however, the drive for the Corporation nowadays was to utilize fully the concept of perpetual energy without the use of an Energy source such as batteries and diesel.


    "What powered the spheres?" Mister Tanaka asked. Lance practiced this question before. He anticipated where the question would go.


    "Batteries, Mister Tanaka," Lance answered.


    "Batteries? Have you considered using an alternate power source?"


    "I have considered it, Mister Tanaka, in fact, I have mentioned it in the ¡¯Future applications and rmendations for mass manufacturing¡¯ section in my presentation that an alternate power source is amenable."


    Mister Tanaka opened his tab and dragged it way over thest part of the presentation as protocol suggests that such a section was at least parts.


    "I see. You have considered four ways of using an alternative energy source. Good. Good. Hm. Hm.


    Good." Tanaka said as he read the article with his own eyes.


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    The Industrialist Tier 1, Doctor Zee, smiled.


    "I see you also have future rmendations here including how to mass produce this which started in metal forging, even the rmending process and workflow."


    Doctor Zee, as an industrialist, had be an expert of manufacturing industries ¨C the main function of any Industrialist in the Corporation is to oversee factories.


    Lance had prepared his presentation for Doctor Zee, mainly in the future applications and rmendations. The inventor, because of theck of industrial equipment and only depended on the limitations of a fabrication table, would include his manufacturing rmendation in this section.


    "You are very borate here. You even included the rmended designs of the whole wastewater facility for efficiency. It seems you answered my possible questions." Doctor Zee smiled.


    Despite Lance¡¯s secret lifestyle and hectic schedules, and all his illegal exploits outside the wall and with his current business dealings with the Mafia, he managed to prepare his defense to the best he could.


    Thanks to his father¡¯s teachings.


    An hour as passed and the water tank was clear now. All ckish and brownish specks were maized to the tentacles. Lance pulled the RoFlos out of the water together with the maized lumps of pollution on the tentacles and drained all of the pollutants in another container with one simple click. The tentacles retracted inside the spheres.


    There were no apuses. Only further observation and further reading about the presentation. Indiscernibly, Jaqi had her ecstatic smile upon the inventor.

 Chapter 59: Awards

    If you fail to n, then you n to fail


    Famous quote


    ***


    There were follow-up questions here and there. Lance answered them. The difficult ones were thrown by Doctor Greggory about the schematic design, the integrated circuitry connections, and even the programming.


    Lance did not like programming.


    Luckily, during this age, AI did the programming. The user would only make minor adjustments to the generated programs. Even so, Greggory scrutinized his programming.


    Lance answered them with every wit he could execute. His preparation gave him the utmost advantage and the panelists just nodded in agreement with every answered question. Small talks loomed, disregarding the proceedings of official questions. They talked about whatpany would take on the manufacturing.


    Or who was capable of doing such intricate mass production? Who would do the marketing, which agency, and even subtly, they talked about profit margins, especially the small private wastewater treatments in far North sectors?


    "Kranian Industries will do the manufacturing," Greggory suggested.


    "No. It must be in the mains and central sectors. For easy transportation," Tanaka countered. "How about Ultrasteel Technologies?"


    "No, not Ultrasteel. They do not have the equipment for the tentacles," Zee added.


    "We can do separate manufacturing of smallponents, Ultrasteel would manufacture the casings, and the integrated circuits and other Electronic boards will be manufactured by Kranian of the North. Consolidate the parts together, maybe Cultz Industries will do the final assembly," Greggory said.


    The back-and-forth conversation went on, following whispers of somewhat confidential information.


    By observation, Lance knew that these people in front of him controlled the majority of the City¡¯s economy. Politic schemes screamed so obviously amongst them.


    There were smiles and smallughter among the panelists. Jaqi joined the conversation. Her wit and humor made the other panelistsugh too. This went over for half an hour and Lance just stood in front of them, waiting for another official question.


    For a few minutes, there was total silence. There were whispers from each of the panelists.


    The air of concern built up, filling the room as seriousness now masked their expressions. Lance knew that they went over his scores.


    "Before the verdict," Jaqi said. "May I request the presenter to hand me over one sample of the prototype? I would like to confirm the materials used with this scanner."


    Lance took one sample and gave it to Jaqi. Jaqi pulled out a handheld scanner and thesers emerged from the equipment¡¯s nozzle with one squeeze. The small equipment hummed as thesers trained on the spherical prototype.


    Then after a few seconds. The scan wasplete. All materials used in the prototype were then reflected in Jaqi¡¯s tab.


    She inspected them one by one.


    "You must understand," she said after her inspection. "that the amended protocol suggests that any smuggled and unregistered material used or any false deration of suchponents utilized will give automatic forfeiture of the patent. And also, my department willmence a full investigation towards the inventor to trace the sources of these smuggled materials."


    Lance nodded. He knew the amended Corporation Order articles. So, he was cautious about using the materials for the project.


    Then she gave a thumbs up. "Everything checked out. Confirmed materials used were legal and registered."


    "It seems that you have everything we need to know here in this presentation. Now, for the verdict," Zee announced. "We arrived at thirty official questions and all were answered but some were not as solid as we expected. There were loopholes in your answers that we suspect were beyond your knowledge as a Scientist. However, the majority of it was convincing.


    You have referred to many theorems which it is still yet for the Corporation to study ande up with evidence to support ims, yet again, the theories you use are sound and rtable. The ims upon the use of proper and registered materials were confirmed. We cannot just approve a project with illegalponents, can we?" Doctor Zee chuckled.


    "We have collected the scoring from the panelists and you got¡­ 85% mark." Doctor Zee continued. "A round of apuse my fellow Panelists."


    A soft apuse loomed from the five panelists.


    85% was good enough to push his project to a patent. The required passing mark was only 75%.


    "Now, as new amendments of the ranking awards and the mary awards in that matter. It has been established with our current GLD guidelines that your project bes a Rare level equipment." Doctor Zee said.


    That announcement was not expected. To be able to achieve a Rare level of equipment was beyond his scrapper knowledge and imagination. It only means that his invention, RoFlo, had surpassed the value of residential service robots.


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    "You probably are wondering how you achieved a Rare level of equipment," Doctor Zee said and came in a few silent moments. "It is because of its application. It is simplepared to the Masterwork-level equipment and evenpared to the umon-level AI service robots.


    But¡­ the frugality of its design as emphasized by Doctor Greggory and the impact of this project served the public more than you will ever know. This is not only a matter of just cleaning wastewater treatment but it will save billions of units of Government Budget. This will change the face of wastewater treatment methods and probably won¡¯t be needed microfiltration facility expansion anymore."


    Another round of soft apuses loomed as Doctor Zee squinted at each of his fellow panelists.


    Lance¡¯s heart melted at the soft cheers of the most influential scientists in the Corporation, however, he suddenly remembered that this was only a grand scheme of taking down the tyrant organization, and in front of him were the foundations that built such tyranny.


    He just made a fake veneration among them to make his expression seem authentic.


    They seemed to be inclined morally, their decisions were for the greater good, or maybe their grandiose purpose was to make the City move forward to more scientific breakthroughs and make the citizens¡¯ lives easier.


    Lance delivered a curtsy towards them.


    "Well, unto the next award. We will grant your project a mary award and based on our assessment¡­ the project RoFlo will garner 5000 units for this phenomenal scientific breakthrough."


    His hard work only amounted to 5000 units and the Corporation and the Government budget would save Billions of units. Apparently, unfairness defined the established guidelines of the Governing Laws Department (GLD).


    ¡¯My designs will be sold off to the private sectors, counterparts of WWMDs, and to the private factories. Eventually, the Corporation would profit Billions for theing years.¡¯ Lance cursed in his thoughts.


    He already expected it which had lessened his surprise and disappointment. Despite his dissatisfaction, on the brighter side, the perks of the next rank would grant him further ie.


    "Lastly, other than your mary award of 5000 units. We will offer you a Mechanical Tier 1 level. That is three levels up. However, you will pay 5000 units to achieve this. Otherwise, you can opt to just augment your level to Scrapper tier 3 and you would only have to pay 1000 units."


    Lance had not decided on what to feel. Would he be happy with what was announced? They were going to take all of his mary earnings in exchange for his Mechanical Tier 1 level. Such a juicy offer that one would have privileges beyond Scrapper Tier 4. It would mean he would be one of the Middle-ss inder residents.


    It would take him three steps closer to his goal of bing an Industrialist.


    On the other hand, earning 5000 units would mean that he could afford the Energy elerator easily. However, creating an Ultragenerator immediately would be a total waste of resources. Powering Bay City by the Ultragenerator approaching the Demetrian Season - where Abominants were more active even in daytime, would defeat its purpose. The Energy elerator acquisition can wait.


    "Now, this is good news, Lance Berkley. The two ranking offers are all up to you. You do not need to decide right now. If you want to know about the perks of being Mechanic Tier 1, you can inquire in SARS. The same with being a Scrapper Tier 3. But the Mechanic Tier 1 offer will expire in fifteen days."


    "Yes!"


    "Excuse me. Yes, what?" The Industrialist Tier 1 panelist was surprised and the other panelists as well.


    "I ept the Mechanic Tier 1 offer," Lance said without further weighing.

 Chapter 60: T.O.R.

    The Government established the Governing Laws Department (GLD) in which its managingmittee will impose City Ordinances and Corporation Orders for the public good.


    However, as the Corporation grew to power generations before, the Governmentpelled to authorize the Corporation as a co-creator partnering with the GLD¡¯sw impositions and establishments.


    With the new City Ordinance, the Corporation now has full control in identifying the factories that would produce or fabricate the new inventions. Moreover, the Corporation had also the authority to choose a promising Scientist overseeing such production.


    They called the person Toll Operations Representative [TOR].


    TORs were sub-assignments granted by the Corporation¡¯s Science Awards Committee (SAC), partnered with GLD Extension Units (GLD ¨C EU) within the sectoral boundaries based on the factory¡¯s location, to make a production a sess.


    In return, the TOR would receive Incentives from the profits of the produced product.


    But a TOR should possess technical knowledge in Manufacturing Management. To know more about the courses offered for business management that cover Factory Operations is avable in SARS building.


    Science Academia - Surviving City Economics course lectures


    ***


    Victorious, Lance Berkley settled himself into a long bench to which nobody had sat for the time being, situated alongside the SACers Hall. He neglected the wide cavernous halls, filled with historical ques with famous quotes embossed in metal bs and framed in between foundations.


    The ceiling held low-hanging chandeliers lined up along the hall¡¯s stretch. There were various digital posters of Levi Menks heaved the walls, even so, he decided not to ponder upon them.


    He regained his normal heartbeat rate and steadied his breathing. He closed his eyes, his back bent forward with both elbows on his thighs.


    The war ended with a sh of optimistic promises. The defense process for his project made a great analogy for a war ¨C Lance Berkley against the people of Axe Central City.


    It felt like war. Battered with questions, so simr to personal attacks, however, the lowly inventor managed to sumb to negative emotions that would cloud his answers.


    Victory had exhausted his energy.


    His mind justser-focused on the goal of making a patent and augmenting oneself to a higher rank, hence, making it personal the seemingly personal attacks would result to failure.


    His knees were numbed momentarily. The announcement had not sink in yet. He should be happy, more than happy.


    Despite the apuses, dissatisfaction still loomed in his heart. Those were his enemies back there, except for Jaqi, of course.


    Beside to where he sat were therge metallic doors that connected to the defense room where the panelists readying for the next presenter.


    That was a five-hour defense and he had not eaten since morning, not even a ss of water, his palms shaking uncontrobly.


    Therge opened and the bright light sneaked through the gap between the ajar doors. Then what came through that gap was an angel.


    With her silky light green dress that grazed the floor as she walked, also, emphasized the curves of her body, her hair sped with those trending headbandsced with luminous threads, defined an angel. She had light makeup, still, emphasizing her white skinplexion, her smoky eyes were enhanced with contact lenses, the one that pierced through one¡¯s soul.


    "I haven¡¯t congratted, yet, Mechanic Lance Berkley. Wee to the good life!" Jaqi extended a palm for a handshake.


    Lance stood up, so sheepishly. His shaking had increased and his knees sumbed to a defeated state. He shook her hand.


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    "Thank you. That was intense in there," Lance said.


    "You¡¯ve done good. You are good. Tell me, what is your secret?"


    "Just the Archives."


    "Get outta here! Really! I took courses, a lot, you know. And it seems that you have pre-Masters degree course already in waste management engineering."


    "Yeah, every week I visited the Archives. Call me a nerd but it is my passion. Well, for the courses, I don¡¯t have that kind of money to enroll."


    "I am a Mech Tier 3 but it seems that you are way more knowledgeable than I am. I can¡¯t even answer most of the questions if they were thrown at me. Especially from Doctor Gregs." She scoffed at the idea.


    "It is rare for your age to be a Mech Tier 3. Usually, one could achieve that position in their mid-thirties."


    "I know, right? Well, just lucky, I guess. But hey, you too! It is a good decision, epting Mech 1. Even though it came with a price. It is very rare to jump three levels in one project!"


    He only smiled.


    "How did you manage to be one of the SACers?"


    "Suckers?" Her eyes quickened towards Lance bearing a hint of insult.


    "Ah..sorry. S.A.C." He held a teasing smile. She probably understood the humor or not, but despite it, she smiled back.


    "I wanted to try to be a true member of the society. One that can make a difference, you know. Adult stuff. Training, they say."


    "Training?"


    Now, little by little, statement by statement, her mystery unfolds.


    "Yeah, training. I took out Political Science course a few months back. It was boring though, but I found it to be noble. I guess my teenage years are over now."


    "You probably had too many parties that you decided to quit a good life."


    "Nah. But yeah, I¡¯ve been to a lot of parties. But my family wanted me to do more. To be something that they will be proud of. I don¡¯t know, but somehow, my parents were disappointed in me before," she hesitated.


    The way their topic goes somewhat creates an air of distance. She felt awkward or embarrassed at some point that her arms folded to her chest and the direction of her feet now veered to her left, away from Lance.


    "Parents, right? I am an orphan, now¡­so¡­ I really don¡¯t have parental experience growing up. My parents died before I was 13 years old. So to me, you are lucky."


    "I am sorry to hear that, Lance," Her handnded softly on Lance¡¯s shoulder.


    "Nah, don¡¯t be. For me, it¡¯s a long time ago. You know our world, right? Death almostes natural to us. It was hard before when the memories were still fresh but it strengthened me somehow. Time heals, I suppose."


    She had an authentic expression of empathy on him, inexplicable but it was obvious.


    "Emotions..too much.." she smiled embarrassingly. A little specks of tears welled up on the sides of her contacts. She adjusted the lenses and wiped small tear away. "I suppose you¡¯re right. Well, to ease the tension, there is one thing I would like to share. Doctor Zee and the others wanted you to oversee the production of RoFlo.


    If you like."


    "What¡¯s in it for me?"


    "Units of course, and control. If you like that kinda thing. Call it a co-TOR. Of course, it could be Doctor Zee would head the operations but he wanted you to be his assistant."


    A man passed by them, with a cart that held something covered with cloth. He stopped by at therge metallic doors and he went in. He seemed to be a mid-sser, somehow a Mechanical Tier level or an Electrical Tier.


    "Oh¡­ That¡¯s my cue. I have to go. it¡¯s nice chatting with yah!" She said while turning towards the door back to the defense room.


    Lance waved, then he said, "You haven¡¯t answered my question."


    "About what?"


    "About how one can qualify to be one of the SACers?"


    "Oh¡­ Let¡¯s talk someday. If you want to know more about it, thene to Skycorp this weekend," she headed for the door, her palms now ready to push on inside.


    "Really? Maybe the guards will prohibit me from entering¡­"


    "No worries. Just look for me. And besides, you are a mid-sser now. You can enter Ind Sectors easily," her smile glowed, much brighter than the weing illumination inside the defense room. "Congrattions once again!" She went inside.


    Her expression and the way she talked about the Corporation clearly portrayed passion. Born to be a high-sser would blind one with the sinister plots discreet from public ears, feeding the bellies of the wretched pigs secretly.


    Would she be an obstruction to his ns? Who is she?

 Chapter 61: Nursery

    As a teenager at 16, he felt his life had transformed into bing a man. Too early for his age, and too early for responsibilities. Despite his age, a must to take down a Tyrant had be his driving force, his passion, and his curse.


    His palms tingled upon the thought of processing to be a Mechanic Tier 1 now, wondering how would SARS assessor Mari would react seeing him the second time in just a few weeks.


    He heard stories that the perks of being a scrapper and that of a Mechanic had an obvious gap. Thetter would make one a Mid-sser from a low-lifer.


    Scrapping was his passion for months, although oveing the stench, the dirt, and the grease, he surpassed them with flying colors. He would miss the smell though, and the site of scrap yards.


    "Wee back, Master," Jasper¡¯s voice emerged inside the room.


    Lance did not answer and sauntered directly towards the only room that his Aiveez consumed.


    "Master, onto the next project, I presume?"


    "Yes, Jasper. However, I do not have an objective yet for the next project. I have prospects, though."


    "You can share your prospects if you want. Let¡¯s brainstorm!" Jasper responded.


    "Yeah. Later. My brain is drained, Jasper. What disturbed me about right now was the offer from the SACers."


    "What is it?"


    "T.O.R., well, not officially. It¡¯s just an assistant for Doctor Zee."


    "Why not take it? It¡¯s a no-brainer. You needed more units for your future endeavors and it brings you closer to your enemies."


    "Yeah, but I have to bnce my time. As you can see, I can barely move to my existing dealings."


    "What do you mean?"


    "Like this for example," Lance responded.


    He stood upon his Aiveez nursery in his only room. The moisture-inducing bulbs, one of them, seemed to deteriorate its lumen strength. He dragged a stool and stood from it, and outstretched his hand upon the fadedmp.


    He turned it and dislodged it from its electric casing that connected the wires that hung from the ceiling.


    He inspected the bulb and a dark surface appeared, with apparent deteriorations at the bottom of the bulb.


    ¡¯I gotta rece this.¡¯ He thought. He then checked the wirings of possible line shortages that could produce abrupt electric surges that made themp bust. His tired mind and body could use a rest, but the necessity called for his attention.


    He used the luminometer to check the illumination inside the room if the levels would decrease with one busted bulb.


    "If you want to scan the luminosity, I can do it for you, Master," Jasper suggested.


    "Nah. Let me do it," Lance dismissed.


    Using the instrument, Lance scanned every corner of the room that touched his nursery.


    ¡¯Whew. At least it is not urgent. The lumen intensity is within range,¡¯ He thought after the scan.


    The Aiveez nursery should maintain a certain level of moisture to emte that of a greenhouse. The bulbs induced moisture in the confines of his room which fed the requirement of the Aiveez seedlings.


    ¡¯Water, they need water. At least twice a day,¡¯ He rushed towards the sink and filled a pint with water.


    "Jasper, activate Holo monitoring for the nts," Lancemanded.


    "Copy, Master," there was a holographic construct above each nt which showed details of each seedling; its stalk length, stem dimension, leaves dimension, water content, and its age.


    "They needed water, Jasper," Lance said.


    "I have an idea. You can set up an automatic sprinkler above the nts and program the frequency of activating the sprinklers," Jasper suggested.


    "It¡¯s a good suggestion but I don¡¯t have the time," Lance responded.


    He then sprinkled the seedlings with water, just enough to wet the soil. He would know that the seedlings had sufficient water for how the leaves emitted a bluish glow. The brighter the glow, the better their water intake.


    He checked on the stic instion that covered his floors so as not to flood his entire apartment. A certain tube connected from the room towards his apartment drainage to pass the water from the soil.


    Preparing the stic sheet that would cover his entire room floor against dirt was challenging. It should be at the certain angle of elevation or slope to drain water from the soil, every time he watered the nts, towards the drain pipe that connected to his apartment¡¯s main drain.


    On one side of the room were his racking ced. These racks held the minuscule seedlings ced in seedbeds. They were stacked upright just to conserve space. What¡¯s challenging in the future if these seedlings would grow enough for transfer to the main nt plots that lined up on his floor. His floor space had a constraint to amodate such volume.


    Inspecting the nts again, he observed a certain stalk length of the nts needed transfer to a bigger pot. And some of them were required for repotting.


    He wore his garden gloves, took out his garden spade, dug it way down the roots, and took them out, leaving the roots intact with the soil. Then he transferred them to pots.


    He had to repot twenty of them. Or else, the adult nts would die.


    As he started repotting them, then he realized the need for healthy soil. He could not just dig soil outdoors and ce it on sacks for his nursery. The soil outside was contaminated.


    To achieve a highly nutritive soil, one must mix it with dposed food waste and mix it with soil. The organicponent of food provides nutrients to the soil as it dposes.


    Even sludges, collected lumps of pollutants from wastewater, could also be used to mix with soil to achieve sufficient nutrition.


    He had to go to WWMD to collect such requirements in which he had to deal with Grebert of Wraithport for delivery.


    Such an operation would entail another overhead cost. Find exclusive stories on NovelBin.C?m


    ¡¯Maybe the Agricultural Sectors had stocks ofpost soil. I doubt that. Maybe Jaqi knows who would I talk to about gardening needs,¡¯ Lance thought.


    The process of taking care of a nursery was tedious. His mindset was just to prepare for the worst, especially since the Demetrian season was approaching, 4 months from now.


    The atmospheric air had built up coolness already as the season was approaching. That cold air, its sudden temperature drop, had given Lane tremendous concern.


    ¡¯I need more bombs to mine salt in the future after the Demetrian season.¡¯ On the other hand, sharing his poison bombs with the Outsiders would give at least the advantage to fend off stray Abominants.


    ¡¯This is not working for me,¡¯ He thought about outsourcing his nursery. It took a heavy toll on his energy and also on his physical body. He needed to talk to Jefferson.


    He took out his gloves, ced his gardening tools on the ground, and settled himself in his massage chair. He called it his thinking chair.


    "Jasper, load profile," Lancemanded.


    A holographic construct appeared before his vision.


    _____________________________________________________


    [Name] Lance Berkley


    [Rank] Scrapper 2 ¨C pending offers


    [Age] 16 years old


    [Origin] Bay City


    [Currency] 6700 units


    ____________________________________________________


    "You have enough units Master to acquire the Energy elerator," Jasper said.


    "Yes. It¡¯s true. But I need timing, Jasper. We can¡¯t just buy the Energy elerator and let it sit for months and wait for the Demetrian Season to pass. It would be a total waste of units and time," Lance responded.


    "You are right again, Master. So what¡¯s your n?"


    "I will take the offer of Mechanic Tier 1. Enjoy its perks and gain more units. I will also ept the offer of co-TOR."


    His schedule became more hectic than ever before. He needed to outsource hisborious activities such as his nursery farming.


    The Rebels could do the farming of Aiveez nts while Lance could fabricate and assemble the bombs. The product would be sold to the Outsiders, and Axiom Trench served as their trading hub.


    They would know about his poison bombs. Handsome had witnessed their effectiveness against the Abominants.


    Another business opportunity. On theing week, he would have another Zelkian delivery for Jonaz Enterprises. He must again be there physically to ensure smoothness of transaction. He heard the news about the ensuing Mafia wars in the western sectors, Ind. He knew that Jonaz was the rival group involved in territorial wars and hopefully, their transactions would not be affected.


    But the Media and the Government had broadcasted that the Rebels caused the gunfire and the explosions in the affected streets.


    One of the culprits that made his father fell to being a traitor was the Media. He knew that the Media was being controlled by Menks which provided thetter power over the citizens of Axe Central City.


    Without the Media was like cutting Menks off his one arm. However, such endeavors were yet unreachable. He needed to augment and make a name for himself.


    "I had to go to SARS to register to Mech Tier 1," Lance said to Jasper.

 Chapter 62: Mid-Classer

    Science Aspirants Registration Service [SARS], Ind Sector


    ***


    A condescending stare streak towards the aspirant from Assessor Mari. "You¡¯re back again, huh!"


    Lance thought about smashing the stone tag on the table that said Junior Assessor, SARS, towards her head.


    "You know these days, Scientists are easily bored," Lance teased.


    "Well, I am not sitting on this desk to chit-chat your problems!" Mari hissed.


    "I am not here to chit chat, Miss Mari," Lance responded but held his teasing stare unto the annoyed Desker.


    "Your generation nowadays. Always think that you are invincible because you have these inventions and you think that it made a difference? You thought wrong, kid. The world is still dark and monsters are outside the fence."


    "Hey, bad mood aren¡¯t we?" Lance just smiled, disregarding the utter annoyance of a busy Desker.


    "Kid, if you just came here to check on my mood, be gone outta my sight! I have been processing aspirants all day, twenty! And it¡¯s still noon! The pay is not enough to amodate you little heads!"


    "C¡¯mon, miss Mari. I know you can process another one. I am not gonna wait for you to have lunch and process me after thirteen hundred," Lance appealed.


    "I just processed you the other week. Are you here forints? We have Information Desks that you can ask for those kinda things!"


    "Nope. I am not here to file aint. I am here for this," Lance ced the CloudArchive tab on her desk.


    She took it and found a rmendation letter from Doctor Zee, head of SAC.


    Her face turned to inexplicable angles. She did not know what to feel. She read them for so long, word for word, and back again until the content sank in her.


    "You are just a Scrapper 2! Howe you managed to be a Mech Tier 1?"


    "I don¡¯t know about the Generation nowadays, Miss Mari. I guess I am just bored and invented something that contributes actual change to this world."


    She held that annoyed stare, her eyes rolled and back to the CloudArchive.


    Still skeptical, Mari scanned through the CloudArchive again and again. "What kind of invention?" She read the contents. It took her minutes to check the signatories from SAC members and the contents of RoFlo project.


    "What so special about this?"


    "Nothin¡¯ special really. Hey, one more thing. I will also process for a co-TOR registration."


    "What! Wait a minute. You are not qualified to be a TOR. Without a degree, you can¡¯t even step foot in any Factory doors."


    "Please check again, Miss Mari. I believe I included also a letter of rmendation from the SAC head that I will be working under Doctor Zee in this endeavor."


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    "How could it be? Other Aspirants paid tuition to take up Factory Science or Lean Manufacturing Management courses, or even pre-Master¡¯s degree just to qualify! You just took up the three free introductory courses, Mr. Berkley. There¡¯s gotta be a mistake."


    "You can call Doctor Zee if you like. I mean, the CloudArchive will not store fake documents, is it not?"


    Mari sighed and cursed inwardly. She tapped her fingers on her tabletop ss where her holographic construct appeared. Lance could hear the sound of her fingers tapping against the ss annoyingly.


    "ording to the Corporation Ordinance no. 174 D, such rank offerings more than one level high, will not follow the established price bracketing. So it means that the SAC has dictated its price. Now, it says here 5000 units to achieve a Mech Tier 1. Can you even afford it?"


    5000 units could buy two years¡¯ worth of groceries for every individual. Such an amount also was way over the Mid-sser¡¯s average asset value, which was around 3000 units.


    Lance replied only with a smile, his hand curtly ced in both sides, transcending with utter respect to the Desker.


    "Now, sorry about that kid, but we have to face reality. Nomoner can do that in an instant. From Scrapper 2 to Mech Tier 1, c¡¯mon! Only a select few can do just like that, Mr. Berkley. One of which recently was Jaqi.


    A promising scientist who came from influential family of Scientists. She paid tens of thousands of units just to achieve from Scrapper 1 to Mech Tier 3, avoiding the dust and dirt of scrapping. Rich kids!"


    ¡¯Even mid-ssers despised the high echelons?¡¯ Lance deduced.


    Without any response from the Aspirant, he took out fifty currency cards from his knapsack, each storing one hundred units each, which gave the whole stack equivalent of 5000 units.


    He ced them on Mari¡¯s table, several light metal cards nking against the ss.


    Watching the stacks scattered on her ss table, Mari¡¯s eyes bulged in surprise. For her, it seemed a pot of gold hadnded on her desk, ready for the taking.


    "You better scan them all, maybe there are empty currency cards there," Lance said while he arranged them by tens."


    "For Science¡¯s sake! Who are you, kid?" Mari said as she started to scan the currency cards one by one.


    "I think we are going to be best friends, assessor Mari!"


    "I doubt that," her mood seemed to brighten. "I am going to continue with your registration given that all of your requirements areplete. Although CloudArchives store legit docs, but they will still undergo further verification through the Central Office. Mech Tiers have different processing than Scrappers. Processing is longer than Scrapper registrations. More hands will sign and review."


    Lance finished the registration and Mari shared the perks of being a Mechanical Tier ranking Scientist.


    He scanned on his CloudArchive Tab and reviewed the perks:


    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    [1] Responsibility ess (For registration Labor Force Commissions):


    Scrapper Yard Tier 3 (30% increasemission in scrap trading based on Scrapper 2 bracket)


    Address: Steelpoint Upper Zones and Western Crystalum Sector


    Yard Composition:


    Common ¨C 30%


    Umon ¨C 60%


    Rare ¨C 9%


    Masterworks ¨C 1% or less


    Factory vacancies


    Desker Jobs


    Production Analyst level (Kranian Enterprises) - 500 units per month ¨C Establish monitoring of production lines with corresponding analysis and potential problem identification and solution.


    Materials Acquisition nning Analyst (Cultz Industries) ¨C 500 units per month ¨C Identify material demands and requisition nning. Cost reduction of procured materials by alternativeponents.


    Material Inspector and inventory Analyst (UniCorp) ¨C 400 units per month ¨C warehousing operations and storing efficiency. uracy of specifications dered in acquiredponents.


    ...see more.


    [2] Amodation: 2-bedroom Condo, 2 Bathrooms, 70 sqm floor area, 3rd-floor CastleRise, HyperVista Sector.


    Rent ¨C 50 units per month (maintenance fees, misceneous costs)


    Note: Mechanical Tiers can always ess the scrap yards if one wants to trade scrapponents. Respective trade prices still apply based on the Corporation Ordinance no. 6969 amendment.


    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Looking at the tab, Lance was exhrated with the perks. He had now be a mid-sser and his amodation would be ind, HyperVista Sector.


    He thought of his Aiveez Nursery in his apartment and he should make arrangements to transfer operations to the Rebel camps underground.


    But before anything else, his mind now shifted to the mystery woman who helped them in Asphodel boundary.


    The identity of the woman came second, his priority was to research about the weapon she used. An exponential enhancement of nt growth by the use of electrical triggers. The theory was familiar, as if it was the same as his father¡¯s Project Nightfall objective.


    Growth enhancement of organic material bypatible use of electric source. He heard rumors that Scientists had allocated significant budget just to fuel the research. He heard it from one of his clients, ind -ining about budget restrictions caused by this new project pursuit.


    And Abominant blood used as fuel? That¡¯s one theory he wanted to experiment. There maybe a link between the Scientists buying Zelkians in the ck market for their experiments. Maybe they found that the contaminated blood of Abominants had sufficient radiological levels that could be utilized as fuels.


    His new mission now unfolded.

 Chapter 63: Sidetrack: Infiltration

    Nathan. Southern Wall, Axe Central City


    ***


    He did not understand why gazing upon the towering city lights and the gigantic walls produced so much hatred within him, his blood boils, and his teeth grind with each other.


    Especially as his sights had fallen on the floating Multifunctional Air Filters (MAFs). Even before he had be an enhanced being, he hated the MAF not because of its use, but because it was shrouded with politics and dirty plots.


    They were built with a primary selfish purpose ¨C fame, money, and control. All of this was because of one man. One selfish man.


    "Levi!" He muttered.


    He could not shake the feeling, those were the feelings he tried to suppress beneath his thoughts, his human thoughts. However, as he pushed himself farther from the Queen¡¯s proximity, the Entity¡¯s Instructions faded and his human thoughts reigned strong within.


    His human thoughts became more profound now, noisier than ever before. With his sheer mental strength, he sumbed to it. Treated his human thoughts as his second adviser without their will of control, only his own.


    If an Abominated Human surpassed the Entity and sumbed to its human thoughts, the Executors were summoned to annihte the weak-minded officers of the Hive.


    One Abominated Human who held the rank of Battalion Overlord, an Adjutant Overlord would seed in the absence of his superior. But in the absence of the Overlords, Executors, a modified and strengthened level 4 Abominant, wouldmand a Battalion with four Swarm Ensigns under them, controlling hundreds of Swarm Underlings (level 1 and level 2 Abominants).


    And these Executors don¡¯t regard the Swarm as brothers. They were bloodthirsty and sometimes mindless but effective in all-out-war scenarios.


    Hence, his life held value amongst his brothers.


    He shrugged the thought. His mind raced back to his main objective, to kill the oppressors who murdered Johnny and half of his battalion. Their faces were unrecognizable because of their gas masks; however, he could identify their smell.


    Three targets but the boy was his priority, the one who killed his adjutant.


    Luckily, being an Abominant had its perks. One of which was his heightened senses, including smell.


    Cold bs of stones and metals stood before him, separating him from his target. With only the monkey¡¯s bare hands and ws, they could not climb against the hardened surface.


    However, the wall¡¯s design had crevices every after the edges of metallic b and stone. The monkey¡¯s ws could leverage the crevices and could be used for their climb.


    But by the looks of it, it was an uneasy task. As nned, the abominated monkey (Blomordan) would carry Nathan on its back and climb about 500 meters high.


    ¡¯I know it¡¯s challenging but this is our mission,¡¯ Nathan telepathically said to the Blomordan as thetter seemed to recoil upon the challenging responsibility in front of them.


    ¡¯I promise you, once I reach the top. You can go back to our Queen. Replenish your strength. That¡¯s an order,¡¯ Nathan ced his palm towards the Monkey¡¯s shoulder.


    Its skin vibrated to answer.


    His touch felt a connection from within the creatures as every one of them was linked with only one dominating essence, the Entity. The wishes of the Entity were then materialized by the limits of the Queen¡¯s power.


    Endowed with the powers vested by the Queen as Overlord, Nathan possessed authority among the Abominants under hismand, even the level 3 Ensigns.


    Although Blomordan only possessed a level 2 creation, climbing the walls was his only task and not anybative encounter.


    He had seen Blomordans before devouring human beings, strong and violent without stop. However, he nned to infiltrate stealthily. Despite being a human before, he had little idea about the City¡¯s defenses. He had never been to Axe Central for so long that he could not remember.


    The volume and power of the police force within the walls presented a predicament for him. His covered appearance could fool many humans but it would raise suspicion.


    As they drew closer to the walls, Nathan felt a sudden drop in his strength, his breathing had obvious respites. His limbs seemed to diminish their potential. Blomordan too, seemed to be weakened, groaned inwardly, and simultaneously decreased its pace.


    The atmosphere? He thought of it the moment a different kind of air invaded his nostrils ¨C cleaner and with very little contamination.


    ¡¯Blomordan, the air is thin. But we can still survive. Let¡¯s carry on.¡¯ Nathan said. Blomordan moaned sheepishly in agreement.


    Blomordan onlyplied despite its fanning state. By design, these creatures would sacrifice their lives to fulfill the Instructions. And Nathan had sealed such Instructions towards the creature.


    A binding agreement between them that such an objective shall be achieved as long as the body lives.


    Nathan grabbed on the Blomordan¡¯s fur on his upper back. The Abominated Monkey did not budge even after Nathan fully rode on the beast.


    Then Blomordan climbed.


    ws against stone crevices. The climb gave the monkey utter difficulty in finding strong leverages to ascend further. Even with the creature¡¯s main skill, climbing, with its bulging forearms disproportionate to its body, were naturally augmented to support such skill, had given the beast a challenge.


    Nathan felt it too, the filtered air. His half-human body overcame the harmful air, however, the beast he perched on impeded.


    500 meters up halfway, Nathan felt the beasts scarring his lungs. He knew this as the beastmunicated through its bodily responses.


    ¡¯Hang in there,¡¯ He empathized.


    After punishing minutes, they arrived at the edge of the top of the wall. However, the top perimeter hadser fences on; three horizontal bars spaced on top of each other, mantled with fatal light energy.


    Thesers were designed to fend off mindless Abominants that aspired to climb over the walls without regard for the glowing tubes, however, Nathan was smart.


    Blomordan waspelled to jump over theser fence with Nathan still on its back. The monkey¡¯s soles shed against a smooth b wallwalk as itnded.


    The silhouette of towers on the side of the walls was far enough that maintain their stealth entry. rms had not been activated yet.


    Within the confines of the wall, sprawled a vast glowing city. Multi-colored and boorish at its center, and darkened grey on its outskirts. Nathan could not fathom its size, his eyes failed to catch on the city¡¯s edges, only a faint horizon of towering structures, fingering the dark overcast.


    Floating equipment withrge discernable fans hovered the city, the MAF. A stream gust of greyish particles, discernible from his vantage point, was vacuumed towards the floating equipment.


    Nathan cursed inwardly upon seeing the monstrosity.


    Unsure how the hatred had grown within his subconsciousness upon witnessing the MAF, somehow, a horrifying incident happened when he was human.


    Only the feeling remained, and no rationale behind it.


    ¡¯You can climb down now,¡¯ Ordered Nathan to the creature.


    The creature followed and jumped back over the fences, and its body melted with the darkness.


    Assessing his position, he could not climb down. Elevators could be present in the watch towers and these watch towersprised hostile robotic police and mounted weapons.


    Their numbers were unknown.


    Expectedly, roving robotic police marched towards his position. Outrunning them would raise suspicion and rm.


    Six of them.


    He then ced the gas mask on to obscure his face and buttoned his vest to cover his inhuman skin.


    "Freeze citizen!" A robotic voice loomed from one of them. Aser gun¡¯s nozzle pointed in his direction. "You vite PD Executive Memorandum no. 132. We require you to submit yourself for GLD Judicial investigation right away."


    Nathan raised his hands, palms facing them.


    "I am called for Maintenance Order here in Southern Wall," Nathan responded. "You can confirm details with my Supervisor." Explore more stories at NovelBin.C?m


    "Protocol suggests, your defense will be epted in the GLD Judicial office." The robotic police approached him, with a cuff in one hand and a gun in the other.


    Nathan assessed that the best way to escape was through them. Tension wires connected to the supply lines were connected down to the power substations below would serve as his safe ess to the ground.


    He was surprised with the knowledge. Might be because his scientific acumen as a scientist before provided him with the stock information.


    As the robotic police approached at arm¡¯s length, Nathan choked its neck and squeezed, popping the head away from its body.


    The other five robotic police behind it engaged and fired theirsers. On defensive, Nathan held on to the headless robot close to his body. And every waking second, the risk of rming the whole police imposed the end of his journey.


    Somesers grazed his shoulders, his arms, and his thighs, luckily missing his critical parts.


    Immediately, he threw the headless robot towards its five counterparts. They ttered as metallic bodies collided.


    In a split second, Nathan darted towards the disarrayed robotic police and delivered their immediate demise with only his bare hands. Nathan knew their weak spots; their heads or their hearts just like humans.


    For less than ten heartbeats, he silenced six robotic police. However, his wounds by thesers stung as heat burned his flesh. ck blood emerged from the open wounds of his knuckles as he punched through metal.


    He was weakened by the atmosphere.


    Now, the only predicament that stood in his way was his target¡¯s location.

 Chapter 64: SkyCorp

    Weekend. As promised, he epted Jaqi¡¯s invitation to Skycorp, Bloomforge Enve.


    With only 1700 units left in his ount, although painful against his principles, Lance bought clothes that were trending to the Inders.


    He chose the color blue, silk-like shirt, tight on his upper chest and arms but its length extended to his knees. It was not bootlegged. He ordered it online for a staggering 80 units.


    80 units was almost half a month grocery for an individual.


    His pants were also tight but only covering up to his shins. Its color was light blue, not so shy as the trending orange-colored pants.


    The fashion in this age was weird whether the colorbinations or the pairing of upper and lower body clothes, even the essories had various weird shapes and sizes.


    Some of the Inders wore metallic bracelets with a chain design that dangled almost reaching the floors like they were just gotten out of prison.


    There were nes that not only covered their necks but their entire shoulder.


    Then, there were these oversized earphones that Lance did not understand. It was heavy-looking and unnecessary.


    Continue reading at NovelBin.C?m


    He wore his Unitech Shades though to meld with the mid-ssers and high-ssers.


    Looking at himself in the mirror with his new get up, and his Unitech shades, he could not recognize himself. Thenughter ensued, only to himself.


    ¡¯I can¡¯t believe I be one of them!¡¯ He cursed inwardly.


    He must not waste further units for a very impractical get-up. He felt like naked, the fine sheets of his clothes were featherlike.


    "You look good, master," Jasper praised as Lance frequented the digital mirror that hung on his apartment.


    "You wait, Jasper, when I process the HyperVista condominium, I would look like those pricks in Blooms," Lance hissed upon the sight.


    "A total of 145 units is a bad investment, Master," Jasper said. "It seems that your hard work has not paid off."


    "Yeah, I know. I have invested so much. These operating expenses are unpredictable. However, I will be earning more for the second month Zelkian production and my Tyllrium trade. How much are my remaining units?"


    "A little over 1600 units, Master."


    Lance was surprised to hear his AI was not so urate with numbers.


    "Jasper, howe you are not urate this time?"


    "It¡¯s just that Humans don¡¯t like smart asses, like me. So, I made an approximation to your units. Do you like me to be urate?"


    "Ok. Ok. Smart ass. I am ok with it. I am just wondering if maybe you need calction calibration. I can do it for you and reboot that portion."


    "Oh no, Master. There is no need. I have done internal system checking on my own. You can even look at the system logs if you like, Master."


    "If you check everything, then, no need. I programmed you to be truthful"


    ***


    He had now entered the most sophisticated tower of all Axe Central City. Even on the external grounds, his metallic soles were almost slippery against the shiny marbled floors.


    He felt awkward as he sauntered through Skycorp¡¯s grounds. The external grounds held pathways manicured by ornamental bushes on both sides. stic-made ornamental nts that emte that of a real nt.


    If the SARS building was a total waste of raw materials, SkyCorp¡¯s garden was exponentially wrong, screaming immorality.


    Howe BloomForge was able to finance such an externalndscape that millions of lowlifers were fighting for scarce resources without any opportunity to taste a glimpse of luxury?


    How much does this garden cost? Possibly about a million units? It was his estimate and he rarely missed far in his estimations.


    A million units could provide months of food supply to thousands of families. The garden¡¯s cost neglected the problems of lowlifers and prioritized beautification instead.


    The external grounds had well-trimmed park, fountains, and statues, and a precariously stood effigy of Doctor Levi Menks.


    The Skycorp in Bloomforge held the residences of the most influential Scientists, including Levi Menks.


    Lance was unsure if Levi Menks was present or not, however, stepping inside the SkyCorp could provide him with useful information.


    He craned his head as he stepped on the first flight of stairs and witnessed the tower up close for the very first time. The tower held no windows, no contours, and no curves, just pure strength of concrete and metal. Golden material streaks throughout horizontally across the structure in an artistic design and on the top floor, held a golden logo of the Corporation.


    Embossed golden letters of the ¡¯Corporation¡¯ fixed below the golden logo. During nighttime, the building would emit different colors depending on the day of the week.


    He had not witnessed it yet, but he had seen it on the News.


    Along the parks, heaved high-ssers. A miracle happened that no High-sser had despised him as he passed by or had thrown any verbal remarks about his ssification or race.


    He dressed like a high-sser, except for the absence of jewelry and the headphones.


    Wearing the Unitech Shades, amplified the beauty of the SkyCorp tower. Holographic constructs embraced the body of the building presenting advertisements of the Corporation¡¯s achievements, or the ongoing City projects by the Government.


    Without the Unitech Shades, one could not ponder on the holographic advertisements on the building. Wearing the shades would ess them and the user could choose whatever advertisement he could turn on the audio.


    Lance chose therge holographic construct of Menks shown on the top portions of the tower and activated its audio.


    "My dear citizens of Axe Central City," the holographic Menks spoke. "We all miss the presence of our beloved Vice Governor Valentyne. He is known to be passionate about his service to the public and undoubtedly brave to face the City¡¯s problems head-on. However, his absence, or the absence of his office, created a gap in the expected public service, and his ongoing City projects were put on hold¡­."


    "May he rest in peace," the announcement continued, "Even though we are still mourning, however, the need to fill in his office is a priority. The Corporation had suggested to Governor Lassiter that one of the trusted Scientists of our ranks would honorably ept the office of Vice Governor until thete Valentyne¡¯s term ends."


    "On behalf of the Corporation and the rest of the founders, I present Doctor Zee Andradez to fill in as interim Vice Governor of Axe Central City. We all know his achievements and he recently held the rank of Industrialist Tier 1. He will take office in the first week of next month and willmence formalities on his first day."


    "May we all support this endeavor and rest assured that we will continue Valentyne¡¯s legacy¡­."


    The announcement was in a loop. Hearing the announcement, Lance was not sure if he would be happy or not. He would be a coTOR under Doctor Zee¡¯s office and thetter to be a Vice Gov could entail problems on his end.


    Even so, with the foreseen challenges, his determination would not falter.


    Laser scanners appeared as he stepped on thest flight of stairs and into the clearing to where the entrance would be. The scan identified his profile. Even though he had not reached the level of being a high-sser, he was now undoubtedly a mid-sser.


    Tworge ss doors slid open as he entered. A holographic AI greeted him.


    "Hi visitor," the AI spoke. It knew visitors or residents of SkyCorp during the scan. "How can I help you?"


    "Jaqi, the Mechanical Tier 3," Lance responded.


    "Oh. Lance Berkley of Steelpoint?" the AI asked.


    "Yes. Why?"


    "She scheduled you for a visit. I am calling her now¡­" the AI responded.


    His heart thumped once again, hammering against his chest. The thought of Jaqi had given him a cold sweat. He convinced himself that he came prepared. ¡¯You are here on a mission, you idiot!¡¯

 Chapter 65: Lerics

    SkyCorp Tower, BloomForge Enve, Ind Axe Central City


    ***


    "Did you know that your Unitech Shades and the SkyCorp are programmed to modify the lighting depending on your mood?" Jaqi said as they walked on the 90th floor Alleyway to her room.


    "Yeah, really? I just don¡¯t explore the features of this thing," Lance responded, referring to his essory.


    "Here, let me," Jaqi pushed the side of Lance¡¯s left side ss as he wore them. Even her hands smelled like flowers. Well, he had his Red re perfume on topensate her High-sser acquaintance. "Do you see ¡¯Pending Connections: SkyCorp¡¯?


    "Yeah, am I gonna connect?"


    The feature was new to Lance. It exins that the SkyCorp, a tower for the Corporation and established by Levi Menks, and the UniTech Industries and the same Scientist was the oversight, had modified specifications capable of synchronized the features of the building.


    "Choose lighting when you¡¯re in," Jaqi suggested.


    Lance adjusted lighting feature to orange. And the alleyway¡¯s lightings, from the sides and even at the ceiling turned to orange. Suddenly, a st of intense orange filled his vision, screaming for immensity.


    Lance halted from walking, took out his shades, and rubbed his eyes.


    Jaqiughed. "You can adjust the intensity to low if you can¡¯t take the illumination. Wait for your eyes to adjust to the new color and you are good to go."


    Lance wore the shades and then the orange lightings strained his vision once again. He adjusted the intensity as he touched the controls at the side of his frame.


    "Whew. Much better!" Lance said after his adjustments.


    "Did you know that you can call your neighbors by the use of these shades?" Jaqi said.


    "No. Is it possible? Opts can only do distancemunication." Lance said.


    "Yeah. But if you are within SkyCorp¡¯s proximity, you can contact anyone within the area using the shades¡¯ serial number.


    They exchanged serial numbers essible in the shade¡¯s system.


    Lance knew that this exchange was only for the moment of socializing, just a courtesy to his friend, Jaqi.


    They arrived at her door and it hissed to open. ¡¯Pressurized?¡¯ Lance thought. An aromatic air had escaped the room and invaded his nostrils. The air quality exined the purpose of the airlock. These rooms had their own filtration systems, independent of the capabilities of MAF. Not only that, it stabilized the temperature.


    "What do you think?" Jaqi spread her arms as she stood in front of her pad. Her dangling White Gold bracelets sparkled against the natural light behind her.


    Surprisingly, there were windows. His first thought about the tower without windows was just the same as the cabins and apartment he had in Steelpoint.


    "Howe there are windows?


    "Yeah. We call them Magic Windows. Small cameras outside feed their captures to this screen inside. It¡¯s only a digital screen." Jaqi said.


    Through the magic windows, one could see the expanse of the city. Her view faced the Western part where one could see the ochre clouds that mantled the sun behind thick clouds.


    Jaqi took his hand, dragged him across the room, and they stood in front of arge Magic window side-by-side.


    "This is Bloomforge, and beyond the Ind limits, you will see the Western Wall."


    The city was so wide that the walls stood only faded silhouettes, like distant mountains. The dust contributed to the haze of picturesque scenery.


    Bloomforge, as the Capital sector, held the greatest number of towerspared with the other Ind sectors. In Steelpoint, and the same with other Commoner Sectors, the highest floored building rose just up to five stories. They had Watchtowers though for the police posts and served as the substations for their hovercrafts after their circuit routes.


    The windows gave the visitor a grand first impression, secondly, the ornamental nts that stood at the corners, on the tables, and on side cabs, partnered with multi-colored penlights that emphasized the potted nts. It emted that of fancy rooms before the Nuclear World War.


    "stic nts?" Lance asked.


    "Nope. These are real," Jaqi answered.


    At first, he did not believe it. They looked like stic, with no discolorations in their leaves, and they had healthy stalks or stems, well-trimmed ornamental bushes. Perfection without the evidence of pest infestation.


    "I know right?" Jaqi said as Lance inspected closely the seemingly stic nts. "It¡¯s almost illegal to acquire these. But because my Mother oversees one of the Agricultural Sector, so, yeah, real nts. Over there in the kitchen, it¡¯s called the Roseweeds. And over there, near the dining table, that¡¯s called Hillbores, and in the living room is called Figls. Do you have nts at home?"


    Lance shook his head. Disclosing his Aiveez nursery would be a crime. Aiveez were not grown within the confines of the wall and Jaqi works in CISU ¨C regtors for illegal use ofponents. Investigating it would be unwise.


    It had been decades since the Corporation started to grow nts, only ornamental, but never a tree. The nutritive contents of the contaminated soil could not suffice for years of growing trees. But only to small pot nts.


    "Is she a scientist, too?" Lance asked.


    "Nope. She¡¯s the AOD of HomesteadGreen Sector," she answered.


    HomesteadGreen Sector held thergest farming for livestock, poultry, and root crops for condiments. But these kinds of produce were too expensive for the Commoners. Hence, these were only avable in Inds.


    "AOD?"


    "Agricultural Operations Directress."


    "Directress? Wow! Big bucks," Lance praised. "What about your father?"


    "Is this an interrogation?" Jaqi sneered.


    "Ah, nope. I am just curious." Lance chuckled. ¡¯Just chill, Lance! Careful.¡¯ Lance thought.


    "Just kidding. My father works in Customs and borders." She smiled, with her smoky eyes darted towards her visitor.


    "What does he do?"


    "Secretary of Border Customs and Defence," Jaqi answered. She took a bottle of Sparkling Wine from her metallic wine cer.


    ¡¯That exins his power over the Police Department. Not only because she is the founder of CISU (Committee for Illegal Scrap Use) but she is the daughter of the highest position one can get in this department.¡¯ Lance deduced.


    The Police Department operated under the Border Customs and Defence Department and Jaqi¡¯s father was equivalent to their General.


    "What¡¯s your family name again?" Lance asked.


    Jaqi poured drinks into two sses. The reddish liquid sloshed in sses and the sses glowed its intensity like the wine was luminous.


    "It¡¯s glowing," Lance said upon the sight of it.


    "Yeah. No purpose really. Just aesthetics. Maybe if you want to find your drink in the dark." Jaqi chuckled and handed him over a ss of wine. "Well, for your question, my family name is Leric. Jaqi Leric."


    Lance heard about the Lerics before. They had close ties with Levi Menks. Her parents were not Scientists, however, they were VIPs.


    "Well, enough about me. Tell me about you," Jaqi said as she drank half of the contents of her ss. The red liquid bathed her lips and intensified her red lipstick.


    "They are both deceased," Lance said. The thought of them still lingered, the pain, and the bitter memories.


    "Hey. Sorry. You already told me about them, that you are already an orphan," Jaqi said. Probably she noticed the creases of his face as the topic was brought up.

 Chapter 66: Disclosures

    "I really hate myself," she said.


    "No, it¡¯s fine. Don¡¯t worry. I already moved on and it¡¯s a long time ago. Well, you know this age, deathes naturally." Lance said.


    "How about another topic then? This wine makes me emotional and stupid," Jaqi said.


    Lance finished the whole ss of wine with one drink. He was thirsty. The sweet vor rinsed his mouth. It was his first time to taste fancy wine or any wine for that matter.


    "Ok, Jaqi. I am just curious, you know. How can as young as you be one of the Awards Committee? These are carefully selected individuals with significant experience or with vast knowledge of Science. I mean, I am not saying that you don¡¯t have that same acumen. But I am saying that you should be older to be one of them," Lance stammered.


    "Yeah, some points there. Hmm. How should I exin this to you? Well, for one, I founded CISU. If you know, it¡¯s a regtory body for scrap illegal use. And inventions are mostly made of scrap materials.


    This secret stays between us, ok?"


    Lance nodded.


    "There were reports of illegal entry ofponents or any tradeable materials smuggled inside the city. Father alwaysined about this during dinner. I asserted to establish a regting body starting from the inventions."


    "Hmm. What smuggled items?" He asked.


    "A lot. We don¡¯t know how the unregted items found their way inside; my father had his men stationed at every entry. And the established inspection procedures are very stringent. That is what makes him confused."


    "What are the items that came from the outside that are regted? I mean, there are no more surviving cities anymore."


    "Bunkers. It¡¯s not really confidential but it¡¯s not being announced. The Corporation established expansions in jewelry mining, and the bunkers were constructed underground, away from the reach of Abominants."


    "What are they doing inside these bunkers?"


    "Gold production, other precious stones refinement processes. You know we don¡¯t sit on a mountain of precious stones, do we? The Corporation identified the locations of these precious stones before. We have a Geologist way back who spearheaded the identification of these precious stone deposits but now he is gone. And the deposits are depleting.


    So, a multi-million currency business is in dire need of another source to survive the next decade."


    Jaqi poured again another wine into Lance¡¯s ss. "You drink fast!" She smiled. That teasing smile that one could melt.


    "It was sweet, so," Lance sipped again after refilling.


    "So, I have heard from my father some of the smuggled items. One of which is raw gold and precious stones, even livestock, and spices. It¡¯s been a problem for years and my father has not found a way to cease these illegal exploits."


    "Livestock?"


    "Yeah. I don¡¯t know how these livestock productions made possible with contaminated air. I know animals can¡¯t survive the atmosphere."


    Lance knew how. He saw Axiom Trench having livestock farms. Well, she did not know that Axiom Trench had their own Air Filtration Systems.


    "More others, just recently. Salt. Tyllrium. Even Zelkians. My father is so frustrated about this problem. Therefore, the Governor empowered him with a budget to form a team."


    Lance had a cold chill on his spine and raised his heartbeat. He felt it inside his chest, thumping hard.


    "Team?"


    "Special Homnd Security. Or Special Forces. I am not sure what he called them. But they are formed just to fight against rebellion. You know for sure that these illegal exploits are made possible because of Rebels, don¡¯t you?"


    It¡¯s true. Their suspicions were true. Rebels made smuggling possible by the use of tunnels below the walls that everyone was oblivious about.


    "Special Forces? Wow. That¡¯s a bit too much."


    "Yeah, I know. But he said a special budget was already allocated. Hmm. That is also why I founded CISU. To help him in this endeavor. So, of course, my father and Doctor Menks are close and pulled some strings that I can help out in the Awards Committee."


    "Doctor Menks? Levi Menks?" Lance asked. The name boiled to his chagrin.


    "Yes. Corporation Father. We call him that nowadays. They formed a team together to identify the root causes of these smuggled items. And the Corporation can provide great help in the Scientific sense of how these items were produced."


    Then it struck him.


    "What about the Wolf? How did it enter? We have these walls surrounding us and your father¡¯s department guarded the entry points. And I know those entry points are on the Northern and Western walls. Howe the wolf entered the Southern wall? What is your father¡¯s take on that?" Lance trained his questions to unfold the mystery.


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    Jefferson could not just make that possible on his own. He could not just invite an Abominant to go through the tunnels andy waste inside the city without any casualties from the rebels. His suspicions might be astoundingly wrong.


    The more he thought of it, the more it became more mysterious and sinister. The strings pulled during that day were way beyond hisprehension.


    "Yeah, it was a devastating month for my Father. He was scrutinized for the whole month by the Governor Lassiter, even Vice Governor Valentyne. He handled the City Police Department and the Border Defence Department, and there was no one to me. He med the rebels, but he had no hard evidence. Only a theory. I am not sure how that creature managed to slip in through our defenses.


    My father assured me that the walls are imprable." She exined.


    "Maybe there is a loophole in the wall¡¯s design that we did not know. Maybe Doctor Menks knows," Lance said.


    "It¡¯s odd, actually. Doctor Menks did not participate in the investigation and also none of his trusted Scientists. They should spearhead the investigation because the Corporation designed the walls."


    "It happened in Steelpoint. Just in my neighborhood. It¡¯s sad to reminisce on it."


    Lance wasfortable sharing his originating Sector with Jaqi even though she came from a High Echelon family. For that reason, it was still a mystery. Or it seemed that Jaqi was not just the type of person who judged lowlifers on where they came from.


    She was not boorish in their first meeting in SARS and even defended him from the Assessor¡¯s condescending tone.


    "Really? Have you seen it?" She asked.


    "Yeah. I have witnessed it. The wolf killed a dozen of my neighbors. It¡¯s sad actually. Thesers won¡¯t just stop one strong Abominant."


    "No, it can¡¯t. And sadly, the Police Department had not made weapon augmentations yet. My father talked about budget constraints again. It¡¯s been happening to most of the Departments in the City. Budget constraints. I think the economy is dwindling.


    I am not really sure, but there¡¯s got to be an exnation to it."


    Lance heard about the budget constraints even from the WWMDs. Grebertined about theck of budget eventually, he had made a deal with Lance about the Tyllrium and the recent Salt trade.


    "Rumors from my friends in Sectoral Budgets Office,rge sums of money were being allocated in special projects approved by Doctor Menks." She exined.


    "Special projects?" Lance asked.


    "That¡¯s the mystery, right there. There are no details about these Special projects. But the allocation is significant that one you can¡¯t hide."

 Chapter 67: Disclosures 2

    Jaqi was spontaneous. After their fruitful conversation in her pad with after a few sses of sparkling wine and after a slight blur of senses, they headed to Homestead Green ¨C Agricultural Sector.


    Hesitantly, Lance tried to refuse Jaqi¡¯s request. However, he did not want to disappoint. Moreover, he wanted to gain more information about other sectors and learn more about farming.


    He needed his Aiveez farming to flourish with a bigger space. They need to prepare for the Demetrian Season, fearful more of another Wolf incident a year ago.


    His concern also extended to the Outsiders which made a living outside the walls and high probability of Abominant Encounter.


    It would also be a good trade for the Outsiders and in which pertaining to additional business ie.


    Hence, garnering more information in Homestead Green, the most sophisticated farming system, was an advantage for his nursery farming.


    His apartment could only amodate such volume that only produces around fifteen to twenty bombs in one growing cycle. The Aiveez would take two months for its stem to mature and harvest its nectar.


    Inside the Taxicraft as they were heading to Homestead, Jaqi wanted to know more about Lance.


    "I invited you because I am jealous of you, actually," Jaqi said. She sat cross-legged; her clothes¡¯ slit revealing a little of her thigh. Her cheeks flushed. Unknowingly, maybe because of the alcohol or her awkward statement.


    "Jealous of what?" Lance replied, sitting in front of her in thefort of the Taxicraft couch. His legs werefortable, his arms rested along the edge of the couch. His shyness had vanished which the alcohol greatly contributed.


    "We have the same level and age you and I, a year before. During a scrapper, I don¡¯t know what to do. I can¡¯t formte usable inventions. My parents are not scientists so I seek advice from Scientists."


    "To who?"


    "To Doctor Menks. Of course, he is a family friend, so¡­ He advised me to take courses and advanced studies offered by the Corporation to broaden my knowledge about inventions. My parents spent a lot, 50,000 units for five courses and still, I struggled with my invention. The ShowerSmart. I have been formting the prototype for months."


    Although he considered Jaqi a friend, he also considered her to be a source to gather more information about his enemy. The thought annoyed him that he may be using Jaqi for his dark agenda. He convinced himself that what he was doing was for the greater good.


    Even Jaqi could be his enemy in the future.


    "I am the one supposedly to be jealous of you. You have these courses and gain a lot of technical know-how about various fields."


    "That right there is my point. You only took the three free introductory courses as a mandatory requirement for a scrapper registration. Then you managed to submit your first invention, the bioscanner after a few months."


    "How did you know about it?"


    "Well, first I heard about it by Doctor Menks. When he told me about a Scrapper Tier 1 managed to submit the Bioscanner invention and was approved. He just told me to maybe, motivate me somehow."


    "I have read about you in the Corporation¡¯s article." She continued. "All inventors who sessfully patent their inventions will be announced in the High Academia. Well, you know, most of the Scrappers can even invent something after they are in their twenties. Reading about you captured my interest. Who is this guy? So, seeing you at the SARS building was a rare opportunity."


    "It was maybe luck that I have invented the Bioscanner. I mean, living as a Commoner and especially in the scrap yards, the crime rate is high. There are a lot of theft incidents due to water scarcity in our neighborhood. So, thatpelled me to invent something that is anti-theft. Sadly, my invention is not free, so not all Commoners can afford it."


    Being a lowlifer, living an unprivileged life had its perks. It drives the individual to great lengths just to survive. Lance sought for redemption made it his driving force, a burning passion to gain more for his vengeance. And the key to achieve his goals was to invent more just to augment himself to be an Industrialist.


    "That right there, nobility!" She said. "I wanted to know more about you but you seemed so secretive. I mean, I can see there is a lot that you are not telling me. I respect that. But hey, I am just happy that I finally meet you and talk to you face-to-face."


    "You have a lot of friends, you¡¯re even famous," Lance said, still not convinced why a Leric had gained interest in a lowlifer.


    "Yeah. For sure. I have a lot of friends. But we don¡¯t talk about Science and projects. I am a science nerd but my circle of friends is not. They talk about boys, about parties.


    And I am tired of partying, seems to me I have no direction at all. That¡¯s why I seek someone like you and the same age as mine."


    "Lucky I am," Lance smiled. She smiled back.


    Her gaze shifted to the taxicraft¡¯s window; her arms folded to her chest. Her smile ceased and there was sadness in her expression.


    "Hey, are you ok?" Lance asked. He knew that Jaqi would sumb to her emotions easily which would manifest on the expression.


    "Yeah. I am fine," she said, stammering. "Just reflecting. You know, I mean¡­ I am just lucky to have these mentors, Doctor Menks, and even Doctor Zee. But I felt so powerless. I am a Mech Tier 3 now, probably because of my parents¡¯ influence.


    It¡¯s a great jump from Scrapper 1 to Mech 3. That¡¯s impossible. You know, looking at the guidelines, it¡¯s too good to be true."


    She had a lot to drink and it numbed her sensitivity about the topic. She was not drunk but somehow the wine had affected her emotional state.


    Lance decided not to react to her statement. He knew for a fact that jumping ranks that high was impossible.


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    "Apologies, I get too emotional especially when I drink alcohol," she said and her smile recovered a saddened state.


    Lance only smiled. Silence filled the passenger cabin of the taxi craft. He let Jaqi ovee her emotional state and let his eyes flit to the scenery to where their vehicle passed.


    "We are here!" She spoke after a few minutes.


    As the vehicle decelerated and parked at the side of the concrete curb, the AI¡¯s voice loomed inside the passenger cabin. "Have a wonderful day, your fee is 50 units."


    Lance wanted to pay but 50 units was way too much. Nevertheless, he started to activate his hologram and transfer units for payment, Jaqi intervened and she paid it immediately with only a swipe of her hand against the scanner.


    "Done. Let¡¯s go!" Jaqi dragged Lance outside the craft. She seemed excited.


    They arrived in front of an elongated dome-like structure, and adjacent to it had the same shape but smaller than the one in front of them.


    It wasrge, like a football stadium and its walls were fine sheets of metal, silver-colored. His first time to tread on this sector awed him with great deal. He thought that the Agricultural sector would be heaving with nts and livestock in an open space.


    No. They were enclosed structures in domes. It¡¯s about the whole sector consisting of these domes.


    They ambled towards the entrance and the door just slid open. He missed the hissed sound. It surprised him.


    ¡¯Not airlocked? Odd.¡¯ He thought.


    All structures Ind were airlocked. Even the Cabins in Steelpoint were also airlocked. Every structure needed second filtration as it was way before the existence of MAF.


    "Let¡¯s go inside, I want you to meet my mother," Jaqi said as she held his hand and went inside and a spray of cold smoke engulfed their bodies as they went in a confined chamber made of transparent stic.


    Lance had cold chills again hearing the word mother.

 Chapter 68: Dome

    After NWW 1, all nts died, including the root crops. Somehow, the Scientists managed to reconstruct root crops by gic modification and fusion.


    The names, types, and ssifications of nts before NWW 1 no longer exists. The Corporation has reformted the nt ssification hierarchies based on the results of genome hybrids.


    There is something about the nts that reconstructed a healthy atmosphere. It is not yet been studied but it is, by theory, possible that the Atmospheric Contamination fuels nt growth.


    Well, you do not need to dwell more on Agriculture. You want to be an Electronics Scientist so, focus on Scrapping first and familiarize Electronicponents instead.


    - Erik Berkley to his son, Lance.


    ***


    "Did you remember that I invited you to be one of my research team member for my new project?" Jaqi said as they exited the decontamination chamber.


    "Project? I may have inferior knowledge about what you are going to do." Lance responded.


    "Nope. I chose you because you have the drive. I can see it in you. You wanted to make a difference, disregarding race and social ssification."


    "Ok. Ok. Only if I can do it, I will agree to it. So, what is your project?" Lance asked as they entered to a tunneled chamber, walled by the use of transparent ss.


    "In vitro nt propagation?" Jaqi said.


    "In vitro? It means in vials?" Lance asked.


    "I know, it¡¯s wild. I can exin to you with Mother." She said.


    Then holographic 2D constructs appeared on the ss, showcasing information about the nts inside the dome.


    ¡¯The ostentatious ss tunnel,¡¯ Lance thought.


    They walked through the tunnel on a wet floor. No. It was a sole bath.


    "What is this?" Lance asked, pointing at the wet bath soaking his soles. Explore more adventures at NovelBin.C?m


    "Sole bath. Its use is to decontaminate our soles and sanitize them. You know the number one carrier of pathogens from the external environment to this biosecured environment? Our shoes." Jaqi answered.


    Then, at the end of the tunnel, nozzles from both sides hissed and emerged their bodies once again by the aromatic white smoke.


    "Final decontaminationplete," The AI voice reported.


    Then, what was inside overwhelmed the visitor.


    In so much sense, Lance could not even close his mouth out of his surprise. The giant dome was thergest greenhouse he ever witnessed. The silver sheet panels thatprised the walls were translucent and mirrored, refracting light from the outside and the artificial light inside. Light waves were ushered in sensible direction, bouncing from the walls, thus, amplifying heat and its distribution.


    ¡¯Should I p?¡¯ Lance thought.


    How could they manage to construct a structure like this? Compared to the SARS and SkyCorp buildings that were utterly extravagant with the use of materials, the Dome was its absolute opposite.


    It was frugally constructed, every material harmonizing its function with each other with immense efficiency.


    But, what it housed triggered something in his soul. The soaring high racks that held the intricacy of nt propagation. Ten levels of high rackings, with water sprinklers strategically installed on each level.


    Men in whiteb coats used hydraulic lifts to tend on the nts. In addition, there were robotic arms move about above them as they were ready for harvest.


    The staff were busy, only a few of them tending thousands of potted nts. There were staff operators who controlled robotic arms that pruned excess and dead leaves on all racking levels. The others inspected defective seedlings in one seedbed using scanners. On the far end table, the other staff had its beakers and test tubes, spinning liquid inside those transparent equipment.


    Others gawked at them for a few seconds, just ignoring their presence.


    "I know it¡¯s a lot to take in," Jaqi said while she saw Lance ring above them with absolute awe.


    The vertical farming was widely used in the age to save space constraints. Because of the high volume and high food demand, and of course, space constraints within the walls of the city, pushed Agricultural Sectors to farm vertically instead of horizontally.


    "This is incredible, Jaqi!" Lance said.


    "Yeah. I know right? We have the same first expression," She said. "You should see the other Dome that processed livestock. You will be doubly shocked!"


    On the end of the array of rackings held processing tables and various robotic hands. The harvested nts undergo processing such as cutting, cleaning, packing, mincing, grinding, and even liquifying, depending on the specifications.


    "Now you know where our food condiments are made," Jaqi said while Lance trained on the expanse of every corner of the Dome.


    On their left side was a cylindricalrge metallic tube that reached the whole length of the dome, seemingly designed on chambers, and whatever it went through the gargantuan tube was packed in sacks on the way to its end.


    ¡¯Soil decontamination tunnel?¡¯ Lance deduced.


    "Almost all are robotics?" Lance asked. But he was not really asking. He was shocked that even in Agricultural Sectors, there was so much funding.


    For over a decade, Lance only tasted processed food, in cans or vacuum packs. He tasted only once or twice of fresh leafy vegetables not using his currency. He knew that this produce was expensive and only the middle and high-ssers could afford it.


    "Have you tasted Mammoth Pechay?" Jaqi said.


    "Not yet, I only tasted a Fire Carrot once. It tasted like stic." Lance scoffed.


    "You gotta try Mammoth Pechay. Here, eat this," Jaqi took Lance to a nearby harvesting table after the leaves were washed. She picked a stalk of green leaf and gave it to him.


    "You just chew it, then savor it. Don¡¯t just swallow it. Tell me what it tastes like," Jaqimanded.


    Lance ced the leaf in his mouth and chewed it. The juice bathed his tongue after one crunchy chew. The natural vor savored his taste buds.


    "Healthy, I guess," Lance said.


    "For only 45 units per kilogram, you can have a taste of the life before the Nuclear World War," Jaqi picked another one from the conveyorized table.


    "It seemed real," Lance said as he swallowed the whole thing. It was heaven, he thought. The fresh juice invigorated his mouth and his throat. Lance had imagined that such juice had cleansed his digestive tract of any diseases present from the contaminated atmosphere.


    "It is real. But gically modified of course," Jaqi retorted.


    "We have here, the Fig Spice, Savage Onions, Raven Laurel leaves, Milfoil beans, and¡­ of course the well-known Mammoth Pechay. In the other Domes are other condiments."


    Lance only saw Mammoth Pechays in a High-sser restaurant table Ind but never reached the outskirts.


    He was fine for almost two decades of eating processed ground food. At first, it was horrendous to even think about how these processed food were produced. Corned Beef had no beef in it. But only a modified meat substitute, ground together with artificial voring and then canned for extending shelf-lives.


    Lowlifers never had healthy foods or raw meat. They were expensive.


    If only the prices were regted by the GLD for it to be avable to all ssifications. However, if the Government wanted profits, why would they degrade the prices if 50% of the poption would buy from it?


    Lance could expect some of the root crops harvest to be smuggled inside the City from the Outsiders - the only way formoners to savor on agricultural produce.


    That exins the short life expectancy at this age. If you are to reach sixty, then it is already a blessing formoners. On the other hand, mid-ssers and high-ssers have a longer life expectancy of seventy years.


    "My Darling Jaqi!" An authoritative but loving voice emerged from behind them. "Why are you here this time of day?" A woman in mid-forties, wearing ab coat, sses, and her hai on sping her hair, hurriedly walked towards them.


    It was her mother.

 Chapter 69: Interrogation

    Lance had his curt bow towards Jaqi¡¯s mother.


    "And who is this? This is a restricted area, Jaqi?" Her mother said but without the domineering tone, rather a delightful one.


    "This is Lance Berkley, a Mech Teir 1," Jaqi introduced.


    There was a reason why Jaqi did not disclose his residential sector. Maybe she knew how her mother would react. Rather, she mentioned Mech Tier because mostly, they were branded as Mid-ssers.


    "Nice to meet you," the mother extended an open palm.


    Lance smiled, grasped lightly, and shook her hand. She gripped hard back and shook their handshake sternly and abruptly.


    "Lance, this is my mother, J Leric. The AOD of all Homestead," Jaqi said. Discover stories with NovelBin.C?m


    "That¡¯s way too much, dear," J reacted. "So, this is your research partner?"


    "Yeah, about our in vitro propagation project," Jaqi answered. "I just wanted him to show the overview of this project here in the Dome."


    Her mother had a smoothb coat, and had no evidence of stains, unlike the others while they tended the nts. She had a heart-shaped face with proportionate features. She was beautiful. Jaqi¡¯s facial traits were mostly inclined to her genes.


    During their handshake, Lance felt the softness of her hand but a firm grip ¨C abination of tenacity and grace.


    "Come to my office both of you, I will prepare you some tea," J said and turned so smoothly with a stride so elegant. Her heels handled the smooth floor so confidently.


    They went in an elevator that ascended them five stories high. The transparent ss wall of the elevator one could savor a magnificent scenery of greens in a metallic ce. Water droplets, twinkled as they fell, and came from the racked nt beds as the sprinklers were activated creating a cool mist.


    ¡¯There is still hope,¡¯ Lance thought upon looking at it.


    "So, Lance Berkley. I heard that family name before. Do you know Erik Berkley?" J asked.


    "Ahm¡­I don¡¯t know him. There are a lot of Berkleys in Bay City." He hesitated. "I¡¯ve been asked a lot of the same question. Who is Erik Berkley? He seemed famous."


    "Yes, mother. I heard the name too from Doctor Levi."


    "Well¡­ah. Yes. I only heard rumors and some superficial stories."


    Lance suspected these high-echelon positions in the City held vital information about his father. They knew the truth and everything was covered to the public by the Media.


    These VIP personas also controlled the Media.


    "Mister Tanaka of SAC asked me twice too during my defense presentation. But the name does not ring a bell," Lance answered.


    The office door slid open immediately as they approached. They were not pressurized either, the same with the front door.


    "It¡¯s odd, Miss J," Lance said. "that your doors are not pressurized. All of the structures Ind have these airlock systems to maintain the freshness of air inside the confines of the establishment."


    "A good observation, Lance Berkley." She tapped his shoulder, so gently that her touch was feather-like. "Jaqi, your friend here is quite something. I can see why you want him as your research partner. Well, this is just a recent discovery. The domes with nt nurseries in them do not need pressurized air any more for internal filtration. The nts are best substitutes for air filtration.


    I don¡¯t know about the Corporation if they are conducting research about this but ording to the contamination counters, the level is even below the expected threshold. It¡¯s close to zero. Well, depending on the volume of nts and the volume of air it filters."


    His hypothesis about the Mystery woman¡¯s weapon using nt bombs was close. He witnessed the nt roots absorbed an Abominant flesh as a growth elerator.


    Such knowledge was yet a mystery and he intended to gain much information about the Mystery Woman. To look for her, Lance should travel again outside the walls and beyond.


    ¡¯Lost Engineer, perhaps,¡¯ Lance thought.


    She took them inside her office. No. It¡¯s a Zen garden.


    The marbled floor from outside her office ended as they entered J¡¯s office. It had no marbles inside but cobbled stones that maintained their roughness. They were patterned to create an Aztec floor design. Across her office stood ornamental nts, expensive Phoenix palms in y pots lined up on both sides of a cobbled stone bridge.


    And on both sides of that bridge held ponds with Pygmy Lilies floating, dancing against the streams created by the mini fountains.


    There were no fish in it. All fishes were turned into Abominants. The contamination exponentially amplified in the bodies of water.


    Curious, Lance stood at the edge of the pond, watching as seemingly living things swimming below the water¡¯s ripples.


    "Fishes?" Lance asked as he saw multi-colored beings wriggling in the water randomly.


    "Ha. Ha. Ha. There are no fishes, Mr. Berkley. Only Aquatic Robots that designed to emte that of a fish," J responded.


    "Let¡¯s settle here in my office. I want to know about you, Mr. Berkley." She invited.


    "Mother, you said, you just wanna talk about how to approach the project."


    "Yeah. That too. But, is it bad to talk to your friend and your future project partner? I mean, you talk about him a few times during our dinnertime."


    "Mother!" Jaqi¡¯s face flushed.


    Lance only smiled at J and she matched his smile.


    "Anything, Miss J," Lance responded as he sat on a swivel chair. Her table had an arching design, no corners, smooth metallic curves that formed her table. She sat across them.


    "Don¡¯t misinterpret, this is not an interrogation. I just wanted to know a little about my daughter¡¯s partner." She said it again.


    She was cautious and deliberately rifying that what she was doing only information gathering, not some special ssification treatment.


    "Who are your parents? Are they living or working ind?" She asked.


    "I am already orphaned, Miss J."


    "Dear my, apologies. Jaqi dear, you should have given me a heads up," she said.


    "Mother, you did not even tell me about this interrogation. I want to cut to chase about the project. Leave Lance out of your questioning." Jaqi retorted.


    "Ok. Ok. Ok. Apologies, Mr. Berkley. One more thing, if you don¡¯t mind."


    Lance nodded.


    "Where do you live right now? I mean, without your parents, it must be devastating. These times now, especially the crisis that we are living in, oh my. I can¡¯t believe how themoners survived."


    Reading between the lines vaguely show condescending meaning. Especially rebel activities are more active now and frequent. The Media were relentless in twisting stories that negatively impact the rebels and fingers pointed to thetter of a dwindling economy.


    "I am applying for an apartment in Hypervista, Miss J. Well, I do well in scrapping as a scrapper. That¡¯s how I survive on my own, trading scraps Ind."


    "Really? Can¡¯t you see, Jaqi? This boy right here is setting a great example. Doing dirty jobs just to survive on his own."


    Jaqi¡¯s expression turned sour.


    "Mother! Lance here is brilliant. He is one of a kind. I can say that he is better than me. I don¡¯t know how he managed to rise to the ranks at a short duration. But just inspiring, that¡¯s all," Jaqi praised.


    "Well. Keep it up, Mr. Berkley. If you maintain that drive, you can achieve great lengths, just like Levi and his long-lost partner."


    "Long lost partner?" Lance asked.


    "Yeah. Erik Berkley, the one I asked if you knew him. He is one of the brightest, rising to the ranks for only a few years achieving Electronic Tier. Most people would take about a decade to achieve an Electronic rank. But Erik and Levi, they achieved it in only four years."


    "Erik Berkley? Actually, I haven¡¯t heard of him. What are his achievements?"


    "Nobody knows about him now, but his designs were out of this world. Scientific fields outside of the Corporation¡¯s grasp. Nobody knows where he learned about all those things. It seemed he had help from the outside."


    "Outside?" Jaqi asked. Also, curious.


    "Yes. The Lost Engineers. It¡¯s only a myth but they were first generation Scientists that eloped from the surviving cities. Erik somehow tapped their knowledge and applied it in his inventions." She took a smoking teapot at a corner table and poured it into Lance and Jaqi¡¯s cup. That aromatic smell had made Lance perturbed by its origin. Something healthy, he thought.


    He was used to the horrendous smell of his environment, making it almost mundane for him.


    "Mother. You haven¡¯t told me about the Lost Engineers," Jaqi said, taking a sip from her cup.


    "I am sharing it now, but they are somehow amplified stories of mindless people who wants to gossip. The story says that they lost hope in humanity and the pursuit of Earth¡¯s renewal."


    "Do you know them?" Lance asked. Probably she knew about their whereabouts.


    "No. I don¡¯t know one of them. But I have heard stories that they traveled to Arcanium Mountains, borders of Oroz Continent."

 Chapter 70: Circle?

    Homestead Green Sector, Dome Central Agricultural Sector


    ***


    J had been informative ever since he set foot in her office. She just wanted to talk about things¡ªshe was like Jaqi.


    She was also kind to share the approach of in-vitro crop propagation. Jaqi wanted to augment processes in propagating crops in vials, easily stored and no longer for the need of uncontaminated soil.


    She wanted to use bacteria to propagate nts. J advised to proceed with bacteria selection first, one that would stabilize the media and support nt growth.


    J assigned Lance to crop selection. The best crop used in Industries that would easily grow by the use of the selected media.


    As this conversation continued, Lance threw intelligent questions that surprised J about nt propagation.


    "Uncontaminated and highly nutritive soil is a challenge in making crops to be prolific. How did you manage to produce so much soil with this volume?"


    "On your way here, you have seen arge metallic tunnel-like tubes crossing from end to end. That is our soil decontamination and filtration chamber," J answered.


    "What is the ingredient to make the soil amenable for nting?"


    "Dposed chopped food waste, of course. We had elerated dposition in one of therge tube chambers and ground them for proper mixing with filtered soil," J said.


    "But you don¡¯t have to worry about sand filtration, Mr. Berkley," J continued, "in your project, you will only use bacteria as the seedling¡¯s supply for nutrition."


    "What about chopped food waste? Do you need more supply?" Lance asked.


    "Well. I can amodate. Why do you have a source of such waste?" J asked.


    "Yeah¡­ I mean I can look for it. You said earlier about dirty jobs right and I am ought to look for ways to earn. This is how I operate. When the opportunity presents itself, I am likely to grab it."


    J pped her hands softly.


    "Jaqi, please ponder this example of a Scientist. Not only that he invent something useful, but he is a businessman too. Independent individual, aren¡¯t ya?" J¡¯s voice raised.


    As the information exchanges progressed, Lance understood the process. Such knowledge greatly contributed to how he would improve his nt nursery back in his apartment.


    But above anything else, what struck him the most and would be his priority bucket list was the probable location of the Lost Engineers ¨C Arcanium Mountains. They must have known his father before he was alive and probably would assist him in reviving Bay City.


    Lance was uncertain if he had time to be Jaqi¡¯s partner. Seemingly, the project would demand a precious fraction of his hectic schedule and frequent meetings with the Lerics.


    He was unsure if it was amenable to him or not. Seeing Jaqi, made his heart melt all the time, thumping hard and slowing it down in obvious respites. On the obviously positive side, spending time with the high echelons could be his primary source for data gathering.


    If Jaqi wanted to contribute to the greater good without regard for selfish interests, Lance was unsure. Probably, Jaqi wanted another project to level up her rank, using him for her to elerate the time frame.


    However, team projects formting and executing prototypes for patents posed an advantage. Two brilliant minds were better than one. Jaqi would be dered as project leader.


    Hence, the rewards would be directed to Jaqi and the offer to level up ranks. While Lance, as her subordinate partner, would only be awarded with units without the possibility of ranking up.


    He had read the byws imposed by the Corporation Ordinance: Protocols in Scientist Ranking schemes. Agreeing to it, he was still undecided.


    Undoubtedly, many would kill to partner with Jaqi. Who would not like to partner with a beautiful, young, aspiring Scientist? Not to mention her fame and her family¡¯s name.


    They had a brief conversation with her Mother as a work urgency needed her utmost attention. She alsoined about a system malfunction in one of the equipment inside the Dome.


    J had clear annoyance about budget constraints, pushing his technicians to conduct band-aid maintenance solutions, and had minimized expenditures of newponent spare parts.


    "Lance, you are a scrapper, right? I will be needing this¡­." J wanted an alternative solution for her preventive maintenance - fabrication of spare parts and recing easily worn-outponents.


    Their equipment was state-of-the-art, umon to rare-levelponents were clearly used for the majority of equipmentpositions.


    These were new-generation Service Factory Robots. More industrial-grade and heavy-dutypared to the Residential Maid Service robots he recently dissected for scrap collection.


    However, even state-of-the-art equipment would still need preventive maintenance.


    "I would rather get from Scrappers like you and buy such spare parts. I can¡¯t understand the Economy nowadays, pushing production hard to the ground."


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    "Mother, it¡¯s been almost a year since we had heard talks about budget constraints and a falling economy in theing months. You should have prepared for the worst," Jaqi said.


    "You don¡¯t understand, my dear. These were already allocated budgets from the year before. The budget should be sealed for my use, it¡¯s my freedom and responsibility. However, the Governor rescinded all budget allocations for further review. There was a freeze in expenditures for three weeks. Then the new budgets were released, however, only half of its original amount remained."


    "What is happening in our Economy, Mother?" Jaqi asked.


    "They are much more discreet, nowadays, Jaqi. The Circle is¡­." She shifted her gaze to Lance and redirected her conversation. This time, she was not subtle, "Governor Lassiter may have troubles with production exigencies in SteamHaven and rebel activities on a rampant now."


    ¡¯Circle? What Circle?¡¯ Lance thought. Her statement and how Lance connected the dots clearly presumed that a conniving group exists in the upper Echelon, pulling strings for their selfish benefit.


    "You have mentioned about the Circle. What is it?" Lance asked.


    "Nothing, Mr. Berkley," her nonchnt demeanor was a little shaken. "I want you to see how we process the leaves into packed products. Come!"


    ***


    Lance¡¯s apartment, upper Zone, Steelpoint.


    ***


    _____________________


    [Currency] ¨C 4050 units


    [Recent business transactions]


    ***


    [Zelkian gross ie] ¨C 2400 units (20 zelkians @ 120 units each)


    [Zelkian operating expense] ¨C 400 units (for Joe and food)


    [Zelkian operating ie] ¨C 2000 units


    ***


    [Tyllrium gross ie] ¨C 2700 units (30 pc @ 90 units each)


    [Tyllrium operating expense] ¨C 950 units (For Damian and Joe)


    [Tyllrium cost of trade material] ¨C 1200 units (40 units each)


    [Tyllrium operating ie] ¨C 550 units


    _______________________


    Jasper generated the report as Lance instructed. "Congrattions, Master. You have reached over 4000 units for your third month of business transactions without pending payments. You are now officially a Mid-sser."


    It was luck that made these transactions a sess. Jonaz and the Mafia had maintained their business rtionship on good terms despite the territorial wars with other Mafia groups. Grebert continued with his Tyllrium trade. He had been asking again about the salt supply, however, Lance declined.


    "Your Hypervista unit is waiting for you, Master and you will be a full-blooded Mid-sser."


    Before transferring he needed to talk to Jefferson to amodate his nursery in the Rebel Camps. Well, maybe the Rebel Council for that matter.


    ¡¯Ugh! Hectic schedule. I will face them next week,¡¯ Lance thought but knew the urgency.


    "It does not matter to me whatever my ssification is." He sneered.


    "I know that, Master. But it¡¯s a great feat. Your illegal exploits had paid off."


    Lance scoffed at the thought of illegal exploits. He must convert them to legal business transactions to eliminate the idea of imprisonment. It¡¯s only a matter of time before Jaqi¡¯s father or the Homnd Special Units woulde knocking at his door.


    Veering his thoughts to something legal, Lance preferred to dismiss the conversation and change the topic.


    "Jasper, tomorrow will be a big day," Lance said as he ced his groceries in the corner of his apartment¡¯s kitchen.


    "Would you care to share, Master?" Jasper asked.


    "My co-TOR will be put to a test in the factory. Kranian Industries of AmdonCore Northern Sector."


    "Ah for your RoFlo project production. Fancy. Would Doctor Zee assist you in this endeavor?"


    "No, I think. He is busy with Vice Gov duties. They told me to just proceed there and somebody will amodate me."

 Chapter 71: Vicious Circle

    That night. Underground Rebel Camps. Southern Wall.


    ***


    Joe was rather ecstatic about another opportunity to farm. His Zelkian farming was growing, almost doubled its capacity for over three months.


    "nt nursery, boss? Is it possible?" Joe said as Lance disclosed his Aiveez farming ns within the camp.


    "Yes. It needed space and I will be transferring to Hypervista," Lance said.


    "Wow. Mid-sser now!" Joe tapped Lance¡¯s shoulder. "You have grown fast, boss! Don¡¯t forget to invite me for a meal, eh?"


    Then the rebel turned back to his farming. Joe used his metallic gloves to pick one Rattus from the cage to feed them to Zelkains. Without the gloves, they would gnaw one¡¯s hand.


    Lance had decided to increase Joe¡¯spensation from 100 units to 200 units per month. The fair exchange provided a win-win situation and Joe epted without further dispute.


    The Rebel camps continued with their Rattus harvest inside the confines of the tunnel. Also, the farm doubled its demand for food supply. Thus, the rebel members would garner 200 units total of captured Rattus on average per month.


    He had been inside the Rebel camps countless times and the members treated him fairly like a full-blooded rebel, a Truthseeker as what they called themselves. However, he had no idea about the Rebel activities or their schemes against the Government.


    "George, do you happen to know their ns within the walls?" He asked. They stood right before the array of metallic caged farm Zelkians and were entertained by how Joe deftly held the Rattus for the Zelkians to feed. At first nce, the scene would churn stomachs. Despite of, Lance tried feeding Zelkians too, and what happened was rather embarrassing.


    The Rattus creature wriggled and managed to free itself from the kid¡¯s grasp.


    "Not really. Damian knows much about the activities. But I heard the soldiers about infiltrating another robotic police manufacturing industry in SteamHaven."


    "Infiltration? That¡¯s dangerous." Lance said.


    "You know them. Jefferson wanted to weaken the police force through these attacks. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s effective but the soldiers believed so," George responded.


    "I have heard stories that the Corporation is nning big." George continued. "Large sum of Government money was allocated in Weaponry Manufacturing. Jefferson has been anticipating the location of that weapon. He is afraid that it is for mass destruction."


    "Here in the City? It can¡¯t be?" Lance asked.


    "Not within the walls, but for the Outsiders."


    "The Outsiders are no threat to them. Why would they do that?"


    "I don¡¯t know. Ask Jefferson. All I know is the Government is preparing for an all-out sweep of all Outsiders, citizens that are unregistered by Axe Central."


    "Well, I have a lot of things to talk about to Jefferson. I too, feel something is going on big in the high ranks." Lance said.


    ***


    Jefferson called for a council meeting. Lance had suggested that they should be involved too in any business meeting, especially involving rebel members. Jefferson was a good leader. To lessen his stress from leadership, he somehow delegated the decision-making to the Rebel Council, especially if matters not pertaining to military schemes.


    "Thank you, council for your presence. This meeting calls for a Council¡¯s decision and Lance had been a great contributor to our cause." Jefferson announced.


    The Councilmen nodded in agreement.


    "He had something to share again." Jefferson continued, "This is in connection to ourst meeting about our Salt mining. Even though it costs us a few able bodies, rest their souls, we garnered significant money for our operations. The cost of ourrades lives, saved lives too here in the camp." Murmurs grew between the councilmen. "Ahem... He wanted to share about how the poison bombs are made."


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    Jefferson ushered Lance in front of the circling Council members. Lance was banking that the discussion would go smoothly, and he had pressing matters at hand.


    "For everyone¡¯s knowledge, the 2000 units we gained from that transaction had purchased our weapons in the ck market and ammo, and food, too," Jefferson said before Lance spoke up.


    "Jefferson, this boy contributes to thismunity but his endeavors are dangerous. I am not risking the crew anymore." The woman council spoke.


    "Our Salt production had contributed to preventing another incident of Death by Thirst. There are risks, my dear councilmen, but Salt will prevent thousands of deaths due to thirst thising Demetrian season," Lance exined and it silenced them.


    "Well, you did note here to gloat, aren¡¯t you?" One councilman said. "Continue with your business at hand."


    Lance cleared his throat and straightened his posture.


    "I would like to transfer my nt nursery here in the camp."


    Murmurs loomed from the councilmen. A bitter expression stered on their faces. Lance anticipated that the Rebel Council had always second thoughts on paradigm shifts. Their ways were old school.


    "Nursery? It¡¯s going to consume space, would it?" one councilman raised.


    "Yes, of course. But we had to farm vertically to save space." Lance responded.


    "Enlighten us again, what are these nts?" the rather older councilmen spoke. He must have forgotten about the poison bombs that he presented weeks ago before the Salt mining.


    "Aiveez, sir. Its nectar will produce the needed ingredient for our poison bombs. It is not harmful to us but only to the Abominants."


    "And what would be our benefit? It should benefit our cause." The woman council spoke.


    "You nt the Aiveez. You harvest them in bottles. Then I will produce the bombs. Then we will trade the bombs to the Outsiders."


    ¡¯Leverage manpower to materialize business expansion.¡¯ Lance thought about the teachings of his father. For all his business transactions, added to his responsibilities as a Scientist, he could not operate them sessfully alone. He needed to leverage manpower and what he needed to do was only to manage them.


    "Outsiders used guns and it¡¯s effective against Abominants," she retorted.


    "Not to the higher levels, they don¡¯t. Besides, poison bombs have a 20-meter st diameter. The blue mist will kill Abominants instantly as they inhale it."


    "Who is willing to tend the nursery?" Jefferson asked.


    "Joe. I will pay him. We already had an agreement."


    "Hmm, the Rebel camp needs also to be paid for the space you consume." the councilwoman said. "You know that we are increasing our ns against the Government and such ns need operating budget. The Rebellion needs to earn."


    Disdainful as it may sound, he had no choice but to sumb to their demands. However,pared to a legal business setting, there were much more costs just to operate. The perfect example was with Jonaz Enterprises which needed Document 2304 for tax purposes. It cost him 1000 units for fixing.


    "How much is the rent?" Lance asked


    "200 units for the Zelkian, and your nursery also at 200 units. That¡¯s 400 units in total per month." The councilwoman said.


    "Done. Sounds fair to me," Lance said. "Well, I am here to open another opportunity for us, for the cause. If you want to oblige."


    "What is that?" Jefferson asked.


    "Chopped food wastes. Homestead Green wanted a supply of chopped food waste as they used it in farming. Maybe our members can amodate the collection and I will handle the delivery and trading."


    Smiles streaked onto their expressions. They were rather enthusiastic when they smelled money.


    "How much would be per weight?" Jefferson asked.


    "ording to my source, she purchased them for 4 units per kilogram. But we can offer it to 2 units per kilo just to appease their budget constraints."


    "What is their expected volume?" One councilman asked.


    "They have an existing supplier and she can squeeze me of about 1000 kilograms per month. That¡¯s a gross profit of 2000 units. I can offer 50-50 for our monthly transaction. I will handle the delivery fees and the rebel members, myrades, will handle the collection."


    There were curt nods between the councilmen and some indistinct whispers and conversations. They tend to talk more to themselves than to decide what they need.


    "It¡¯s a fair price." The old councilman finally said after a few minutes. "We have decided that we can go with the transaction. I will have the men collect the food waste in Commoner sectors."


    They had an agreement. After that, they had minute conversations that Lance had little stake in it. They ended the meeting but after everyone dispersed, Lance opened something.


    "Do you all know about ¡¯The Circle¡¯?" Lance asked and it halted everyone.


    "How did you know about them?" Jefferson asked.


    "I heard from someone else."


    "The Circle." Jefferson hesitated. "We call them the Vicious Circle. They are the ones responsible for everything happening in Axe Central City. They are the reason why the Rebellion should fight even further."


    "Who are these people?"


    "I think he needs to know," the oldest councilman spoke.


    "Ok, Lance." Jefferson continued. "We are not certain of anything yet but we heard this from your father. These are the people responsible for why Erik joined the rebellion. Levi Menks is one of them, probably the leader of the Circle. Then there¡¯s Governor Lassiter, then Chester Leric, Secretary of CBD.


    The members of the Awards Committee, of course and some Government officials that we are trying to identify."


    ¡¯Jaqi¡¯s father is one of them!¡¯ Lance cursed inwardly.


    "Something wrong, kid?" Jefferson asked.


    "Then what is our next move?" Lance asked. He was more inclined now to join the cause, to be more participative in their endeavors. His blood boiled hearing his name - Levi Menks.

 Chapter 72: Sidetrack: Scent

    Nathan. Southern wall ess, Steelpoint Sector


    ***


    He had been sniffing. The scent was strong. His target¡¯s face was unrecognizable but his scent profiled bitter memories.


    ¡¯Fiery me perfume,¡¯ Nathan thought, unsure why he knew the scent. Perhaps, when he was a human.


    He melted himself through the scrapyards. His dark green tunic enveloped his entire body. Under it were his thick shirts and pants that could withstand the cold. His face, mantled with ckened skin features with yellow eyes, was obscured by the gas mask he wore.


    Opportunely, he brought the gloves, concealing his ws that gleamed against the faint street lights. His Chiroptera, the wings between his phnges receded under his forearm for his fingers fitting the human gloves.


    For days he had been searching, waiting behind the piles of trash. Frustration came to him like tidal waves. Utter frustration, he dug his hand into a metallic scrap pile and took out anything his palm would grasp.


    ¡¯Hmm. Scrapped robots?¡¯ He said while inspecting the decapitated robotic arm that dangled from his hand. He crushed it with one squeeze.


    ¡¯No one present,¡¯ Nathan thought. His eyes could deceive him but never his sense of smell.


    He removed his gas mask again and inhaled volumes of air, filling his stomach with filtered poison. He coughed. The clean air was killing him, slowly.


    Or so he thought.


    "I know you are here. Somewhere near," he said to himself.


    He persisted in his search even though the weakened disposition. His mission was his punishment. Seeding it would suffice the Queen¡¯s disappointment.


    This was revenge.


    ¡¯You killed Johnny. Damn you, kid!¡¯ Nathan cursed in his thoughts, kicking unkempt trashes scattered along the concrete.


    He followed the scent. It was still fresh. Five or six days fresh. He mbered up on arge scrap pile and perched on top, achieving a vantage point.


    He wore his gas mask again as the height was more arid, however, suppressing his sense of smell.


    The faint lights of a group of policemen and their robotic counterparts heaved the streets beyond the sprawling scraps. Roving about randomly in groups. The dmissioned of five Police Robots alerted them. For three days he had been hiding.


    Momentarily, he felt safe.


    Tiredness crept below his muscles and through his limbs. He would aplish nothing if the police continued their search and him cowered behind the scraps.


    Perching on top of the scrap, he nced back to the wall where he infiltrated. ¡¯There¡¯s no way back,¡¯ He thought as to encourage himself in his pursuit.


    His human thoughts never ceased trying to regain control over his consciousness. Even his trained mind, could still falter and sumb to his thoughts¡¯ desires. ¡¯Only a matter of time.¡¯


    His thoughts wanted to stop his pursuit. To be human again and leave the hive for good.


    ¡¯Curse you. You can¡¯t go back. You are strong!¡¯ The thoughts diminished again. If his anger rose, the thoughts faded. Discover hidden tales at NovelBin.C?m


    He stood up from where he mounted, his vision essing further towards the dancing lights and the towering structures. MAFs floating overhead. A stream of acrid memories permeated his thoughts. ¡¯Curse you, Menks!¡¯


    ¡¯Where are you, boy?¡¯ He thought.


    Surprisingly, a looming pain of decimated flesh experienced his left shoulder. That burning energy of devastating sma was familiar to him.


    Somewhat he was pushed by something visible in the air without warning.


    ¡¯Laser?¡¯ He thought as he inspected his open wound surrounded with charred skin. He trained his vision in between the scrap piles epassing him. Darkbatants moved inconspicuously fast, melting themselves behind the shadows cast by the piles.


    His blood flowed out towards his arm but ceased as he clenched his wound with his right hand.


    Another round shattered his thigh again which disarrayed his stance and tumbled down, rolling along the scraps.


    He felt the searing pain more intensified than before. Could it be because he was weakened by the filtered air? Or maybe theser came from a stronger weapon that even his body could barely withstand it.


    Standing up, he struggled painfully. He removed his gas mask to recuperate hisbored breathing and activate his heightened sense of smell.


    ¡¯Snipers?¡¯


    ck-d operatives, way different from police uniforms, headed their way to him. Discernable footfalls of boots against concrete snappily looming from various sources. They were not robots, although their bodice and coveralls were seemingly metallic.


    ¡¯Humans,¡¯ He could smell them.


    He could smell human perspiration and even blood flowing underneath their skins.


    ¡¯Horrendous smell,¡¯ he thought.


    They fired again but missed their mark as he ducked down and hid behind piles. He smelled them, cornering him to every essible exit.


    He was surrounded.


    They probably knew his location and decided to position themselves first strategically, trapping him, and killing him on-site with extreme prejudice.


    ¡¯These are not policemen. These are killers!¡¯


    Whizzing from the pain, added by the harmful air, Nathan had to escape. He ran as fast as he could, going deeper into the scrap yard. Thesers came, and devastating sma energies darted against the air almost catching his backside.


    Luckily, a wisp of energy remained to maintain his inhuman speed, nimbly evading the firepower. Sumbing his bleeding thigh, he managed to run fast but not faster than he could remember.


    Metallic scraps were decimated assers collided against them, creating a blinding spark. Lasers darting from random sources, to his left, to his right, and from his back, all missing their marks.


    He was surrounded, he confirmed again.


    Every turn he took, the killers were there.


    ¡¯They were tactical,¡¯ He thought. A different breed from what he encountered during his ambushes.


    Without a way to escape, he decided to fight his way out. Veering hurriedly to a sharp turn, three killers lined up along the expanse of the road between a valley of scraps.


    Thesers came. An immense pain emerged as thesers shattered his chest and abdomen. However, he continued his pace, enduring the pain, and running towards the three killers.


    He feigned left and right for evasion,sers missing an inch from his neck and shoulders. He caught one killer by the neck and squeezed until the killer¡¯s limbs wentid.


    The other two discontinued firing as he achieved proximity. He whipped their guns away from their hands. Deftly, the remaining two killers took out theirser-filled knives emitting a glow against the dark with one click, illuminating little portions of their ck armor.


    On their chests, a logo appeared ¨C Special Homnd Force. ¡¯A new breed indeed.¡¯


    The two reacted hastily, retreating further away as they create a sensible gap. They were highly trained, Nathan assessed.


    The two operatives remainedposed and no evidence of panic. Even though, they knew the kind of creature he was.


    Nathan took out his right glove and exposed his ws. He swung to the nearest operative¡¯s face but thetter managed to lean back perfectly to evade.


    Out of nowhere, theser-filled de struck his ribcage. He screamed in utter pain as a sharp decerating his internal organs.


    Immediately, Nathan sped the arm that held the knife. Squeezed it and the operative screamed to his inescapable death. Quickly, Nathan wed the operative to his face again and his body fell with a shattered jaw. As Nathan¡¯s back was exposed, the remaining operative dug his knife.


    Nathan quickened his turn with the knife still lodged in his back and delivered four ws to his enemy¡¯s abdomen, through his metallic armor.


    Luckily, his strength had not escaped him.


    In eight seconds, he killed three. ¡¯Sloppy.¡¯


    The other killers came,sers flying nearly missing, but he had eluded them with his immediate escape.


    Adrenalin punching his veins gave him a speed boost. He felt fear for his life for the first time in his Abominated life. Electric stunning grenades detonated behind him, the electric web almost reaching him.


    Finally, he escaped them but to the precipice of death.


    His escape found him beyond the scrapyards and into the residential cabins. He dislodged the knives that dug into his body. His breathing had increased intervals.


    His wounds took significant time to heal.


    The nighttime had silenced the streets.


    Recovering, he prowled in corners where the street lights failed until such a point that he could find the smell again.


    He sniffed again. Fortunately, the scent of the killers was far enough that he could focus on one elusive smell.


    ¡¯The kid.¡¯


    He caught it once more. The Fiery me scent perfume had a unique smell. It stood out. Now, the scent was stronger.


    Following it, the scent took him to ces, further away from the scrap yards and into police warehouses. His dark skin camouged him together with the dusk.


    There were asional policemen and their robotic counterparts hovered overhead but he did not confront them, instead, he hid from them, leveraging the shadows.


    Lucky for him, the area was dim-lighted, unlike the central cities that he just saw from afar earlier.


    Following the scent again, he finally arrived at a corner where a manhole was seen.


    Without hesitation, he removed the manhole cover and went inside.

 Chapter 73: Sidetrack: Thoughts

    He felt weaker every waking second as filtered air invading his lungs. His more pronounced breathing told him that his body had not recuperated from the wounds.


    ''Filtered air,'' He thought. Its freshness poisoned him.


    The manhole took him to the tunnels. He assumed his safety underneath the City from the pursuing killers but not the environment.


    The cleaner the air, the more it was harmful to him.


    However, despite his diminishing state, the scent grew more indicative.


    ''The boy is here,'' He sniffed. ''Hours ago, he passed by here,''


    He must move fast as his target could escape beyond his smell''s reach.


    Deeper into the tunnels, he pressed on. The ck ooze continued to flow, dripping to the concrete ground, echoing.


    His ck ked skin had fallen out, starting from his forearms. Viscous white puss started to wear off as the ck dermis separated from his muscles. Immense heat seared all over his body like he experienced third-degree burns. He felt his foreskin had been gradually falling out like a snake, following on his cheeks.


    His ws receded its length. A crackling sound of joining bones could be heard and his wobbling joints caused his fall. Thousand needles piercing against flesh and bone.


    ''A transformation?'' He thought.


    The feeling was familiar way back he started the initiation. The Queen''s essence bathed him physically and the Entity strengthened him mentally, shielding him from the conquering human thoughts.


    But now, he felt the reverse.


    He removed his gas mask. He needed air, surprisingly.


    From the reflections of the ss visor of his gas mask, he still saw the color of his eyes maintained. His night vision remained as the cavernous dark tunnels seemed bright enough that his vision still reaching the ends.


    ck miasma emerged from within his body, its smoky characteristic finding gaps in his clothing to be exhausted towards the air.


    Hey against the cold concrete, waiting for his bones'' transformation to cease. The pain seemed forever, his eyes nkly staring at the concrete ceiling, surrendering to whatever his body manifested.


    Fortunately, his heightened smell and vision had not left him yet. His physical body was only affected by the filtered air.


    ''This is the reason for my weakened state for days. My body is bing back to human,'' he assessed.


    ''The contaminated air fuels his mutation, constantly feeding it to suffice his inhuman capabilities. However, with its fuel, the mutative genes will falter and be defeated by the natural pro-biotics of a human body.'' He remembered. His scientific mind was now developing back.


    His studies about Abominated animals provided him unique insights about the creatures. The contaminated air, if inhaled at a certain volume that the natural immune system of a normal being could no longer fend off the foreign contaminants, would create a symbiosis with the cells. Mutating the good cells into an Abomination, until transforming normal into an Abominant.


    But human flesh stood more resistive than the inferior animals. Maybe because of the superior brain function of human beings that makes the immune system more resistive.


    That''s when the Entity yed its part, removing the rational human brain function and sumbing to the invading contamination.


    During his human days, his scientific prowess propelled him to study Abominants for the main purpose of unfolding weaknesses. However, his interest was tinged with the beauty of these mutated beasts. His study somehow grew beyond the species'' destruction, however, leaned towards its further mutation and study.


    The Biological Nuclear weapons wiped out more than 90% of the human poption and 70% of animals and insects. But the fatal virus that would supposedly kill living things had mutated in time. For years ity dormant with the atmosphere, naturally mutated into something aggressive to survive by any means.


    Somehow this mutated virus battled every living cell it attached to, infecting it with its genome, and manipting its very design.


    Nathan had been studying live mutated viruses. Unknowingly, infected himself with it. Could be a leak in his glove or his coverall; a leak in his breathing apparatus; or an exposed skin after he cleaned up; or a residue left in the Petri dishes and was left unsanitized. The mutated viruses could multiply even airborne without any activated media but only the chemical contents of air are sufficient.


    The virus consumed oxygen for its replication and with chemical reaction, the mutated viruses umte carbon monoxide at exponential levels, most especially if it infects organic matter.


    That phenomenon made it a breakthrough in Scientific study that only a few Scientists from Bay City had discovered, including, Erik Berkley, his mentor.


    Nathan saw it only as a phenomenon but nothing of utmost importance. Erik Berkley, who led the research, had made an astounding theory.


    ''He always do,'' He thought, surprised why thoughts of his mentor loomed, almost paranormal.


    ***


    "That''s brilliant, Nathan. You know what it can do or how this discovery will help humanity?" Erik asked, tapping Nathan''s shoulder while thetter operated the digital microscope. Holographic constructs sted in front of them, representing a microscopic view of the mutated virus.


    "How?" Nathan asked, pushing the rims of his eyesses against his nose bridge. His mind racing with ideas trying to at least anticipate the mind of a brilliant man.


    "nt growth."


    "What? It can''t be, Doctor. Even if you say that the infected organic matter can support nt growth, what about the contaminated soil? Why our current soil condition does not support it?" Nathan retorted.


    "It is because the Virus ispatible with Molybdenum." Hurriedly, Erik went over theputer''s keyboard and the holographic presentation changed to images of ores and soil. "The soil only contains 20 ppm of Molybdenum in humus contents and semiarid zones. The Virus contamination in the soil would eliminate all soil nutrients. Making it dead."


    "Molybdenum? How?" Nathan was still perplexed.


    "Molybdenum ores and Supernova-formed metals, rare level ones." Erik pressed again a button and showed a crystal-like metal. "Ground them together into powder-like particles and mixed with the contaminated organic matter. The Carbon monoxide and the metallic mixture will, in theory, support nt growth."


    Erik typed in a series of setting modifications of the application they used. After a few seconds, a simtion of chemical bonds appeared, moving until it waspatible.


    ''Sessful simtion!'''' Theputer''s AI said.


    "Not only that," Erik added. "In theory, increasing the ppm of our Supernova metal would push the nt''s growth rate exponentially."


    A line graph appeared, representing the growth rate simted not in days or weeks but in seconds.


    "What kind of Supernova metal would it be?" Nathan asked.


    "That''s the mystery," Erik said.


    "A perpetual cycle between nts and virus contamination," Erik added, "Everything the virus touches will serve as food for the nt granting sufficient levels of Molybdenum and Supernova material in the nt''s system. It could be Barzantine Crystal, or Royal Kronmium, and many others."


    "This is a potential project, Doctor Erik!" Nathan eximed. His appreciation toward his mentor had grown every day, on in their every session.


    "No. It is so much bigger. It is the beginning of Earth''s renewal." Erik responded.


    ***


    Seconds merged into minutes.


    The memories flooded uncontrobly as he regained consciousness. The pain had subsided but still, he felt weak.


    He hauled himself up, groaning in immense pain. He pressed his palms against the ground to stand. Even his palms were burning.


    Then he looked at them, he had the skin of a human being but had a paleplexion. He touched his forearms, his fingers grazing his foreskin. It was smooth and wet, with minutecerations appearing.


    His soles were bathed with metallic liquid. It was his blood. Surprisingly, they were reddish ck, darker than human blood.


    Despite the pain looming in every inch of his body, he pressed forward in the tunnel.


    The scent still lingered.

 Chapter 74: Kranian

    The next day.


    Kranian Industries, AmdonCore Northern Sector


    ***


    The Northern Sectors were different than the mains. The air carried coolness and freshness, better than the other city quadrants. He could even tasted a little greenery sweetness.


    Two possibilities that came to Lance''s mind, one of which greatly supported his theory, the Northern sectors were farther away from SteamHaven ¨C the capital of Industries where smoke heaved.


    Secondly, the Northen Sector held thergest Agricultural area in which, unproven yet, nts filtered the atmosphere.


    The MAF served only a secondary filtration that enabled an individual to breathe external air without the mercy of gas masks. However, it still carried contaminants at a lower and insignificant level.


    Kranian Industries manufactured electronic supplies which an industry doesn''t exhaust smoke. Its establishment held a typical electronicponent manufacturingpany - clean floors, ss windows, smoothed-finished concrete walls, bright lights, stainless steel framings, and fully automatic.


    Even one would not walk long meters just to go to ces. Staff moved using a conveyorized transport on the portion of the floors. Even their cafeterias had conveyorized transport and of course, the unnatural number of vending machines - the forefront of Electronic Engineering products.


    All Ind Sectors had vending machines on every corner and almost all one would want to procure, found in these machines. Even personal escorts.


    He scoffed at the thought.


    Lance sat in a cushioned waiting area. The rich leather-wrapped cushion gave him afort he had never experienced before, way better than his massage chair at home.


    He felt like sitting in a cottony cloud, with robust support for his back and pelvic portions.


    There were many cushioned chairs but no one had been sitting on them. Staffers passed by asionally, and hurriedly like they were always on a deadline.


    ''Deskers. So stressful to be one,'' Lance thought upon observing them.


    The door swung open and he focused on the movement. Swiftly, she came in with her heels nking against the marble floor.


    "Wee, Mister Berkley." A prim-looking woman, with tall, slender features, sses, and tucked hair approached him in the waiting area. "I am Ashley, the Executive Assistant of Doctor Zee."


    Lance hauled himself up and shook hands.


    She ushered him outside the waiting room and into an alleyway connecting to the Control Office. On his left along the expanse of the alleyway held a transparent viewing ss that one could witness a floor below the stretch of manufacturing lines.


    His first time entering an electronic production floor had surprised him. In the production lines, there was so much activity, robotic arms swinging here and there, in-processed products moving along conveyor belts, human operators on digital touchpads in white coveralls, bright lights, and systematic despite of an overwhelming view.


    Twenty were people inside, operating a five thousand square meter production line. ''Impressive!''


    The organization and the systematic arrangement of things were the absolute opposite to the scrapyards and other SteamHaven manufacturing lines.


    Even the pathway smelled aromatic or could be from Ashley.


    Another set of robotic arms, efficiently tending to the moving electronicponents, sparks loomed on them as if the mechanism would continue its intricate fabrication while theponents were moving.


    Lance forced his attention towards the stretch of the brightly lit pathway with Ashley a few steps forward. Lingering much on the activity below gave him diforting shivers in his bones.


    ''Calm yourself, Lance. No need to worry, the supervisors will tell you how to be a TOR.'' He convinced himself.


    "This is Kranian Line 14, producing Integrated circuits of various robotic applications. Rare-levelponents are produced here," Ashley said without looking at the boy behind her.


    "Will Doctor Zee be joining us?" Lance asked.


    He wanted Doctor Zee to be there during his first day. At least there will be no hostility from the Superior ranks to a Mech Tier 1 because of Doctor Zee''s reputation. And probably he would exin to them why he chose Lance for his coTOR.


    "I am afraid he is in an urgent meeting. But, worry not. I will be here to introduce you to the supervising team of the lines." Ashley responded.


    Another door opened as they arrived at the end. The Control room held a series of touch-ss desks within walls made of transparent ss. The control room was so wide that all production lines could be seen, and each line had physical demarcation.


    There were only fifteen people inside the Control room, each about analyzing holographic constructs, typing, and having work conversations, and seemingly everyone was racing for time.


    ''All Deskers are like this, especially in private sectors. But in Government units, not so much!'' Lancepared Assessor Mari of SARS.


    They weaved in between desks and swivel chairs and busy staff. Other Scientists would say Deskers were way busier than them because thetter felt they were expendable. As they were evaluated on a quarter performance, and mostly the private sectors set harsh objectives, driving them the need to produce results.


    Modernized ves.


    Lance felt the pressure amongst them, inside the room, boiling every second waiting for it to implode.


    "Mr. Berkley, I''d like you to meet Mr. negan, an Electrical Tier 3." Ashley introduced Lance. "He supervised the new project assembly of your RoFlo, Mr. Berkley."


    ''Two more ranks up, he would be an Electronic Tier 1,'' Lance thought.


    negan stood up from his desk, his eyes still glued to the screen. The kind of look that was rudely neglecting a human being, then after a few moments, he nced at Lance without a word uttered. He was square-faced, in good physical form, with an almost perfectly pressedb coat. He had dark eyes under well-formed eyebrows.


    Good nutrition was the culprit for Mr. negan''s physique.


    First impression would characterize negan as a High-sser. He had little but expensive essories on his body, a wireless earpiece on his right ear, an expensive ring that the High Echelons used for their private bank deposits, and wet-look hair. Nobody wanted to have wet hair in this age as air would umte on it like a feather duster.


    But when one was a high-echelon ss, he might not be exposed to external air at all. He had his own car with a filtration system as he traveled.


    "Mr. negan, Mr. Berkley, the new coTOR of Doctor Zee," Ashley said. "Mr. Berkley will oversee the RoFlo production of specpliance and testing."


    negan had this condescending stare towards Lance and, rudely said to Ashley, "So this is Doctor Zee''s pet?" negan smiled sarcastically.


    "y nice, Mr. negan. Doctor Zee wanted you to cascade the work description of a coTOR to Mr. Berkley as you are a former TOR yourself. Doctor Zee entrusted you with this."


    "Yeah. Let me handle him," his smile toward Ashley was dismissing too. "Doctor Zee worries too much."


    "One more thing, Mr. Berkley."Ashley shifted her gaze to Lance. "There is a checklist that I will give you, all the points you need to know as a coTOR. I believe Mr. negan willply with all on the list. And that list will be submitted to Doctor Zee after your orientation." Ashley said.


    She smiled and had a curt bow toward Lance and sneered a professional smile towards negan.


    ''This guy is a prick,'' Lance assessed.


    Lance wanted Ashley to do the orientation instead as she was courteous, well-mannered, and soft-spoken but with rity.


    "So, you''re the guy, eh?" negan said.


    "I am the guy?" Lance asked.


    "You are my recement. Well, look at you, a Mech Tier 1," He emphasized on the ''Tier 1''.


    "It''s Doctor Zee''s rmendation. If you have a problem with that, you can contact Doctor Zee directly." Lance retorted.


    "Nah. No need. I am just curious. What course?" the prick asked.


    "Course?"


    "Yeah, course. You can''t be qualified as a TOR if you haven''t finished the courses yet. So, what is it?" His voice raised as if announcing it to everyone in the room.


    Effectively, negan''s voice caught everyone''s attention.


    "I just finished the three introductory courses," Lance answered but not meekly that he would appear weak. He was proud to himself, reaching this level without proper education.


    "Ha! Gotta be kiddin'' me! C''mon, now. Intro courses? Ha! Ha!


    Ha!" Heughed harder this time, his palms pressing against the edge of his swivel chair.


    "Why? What''s the problem?" Lance said.


    "The problem is kid, you are an ass licker. I mean, c''mon. A mech tier 1 and only intro courses, howe you be a TOR?"


    "Ass-licker," a faint mockery emerged way over the corner behind Lance.


    There was a reason that negan had spoken his background twice already. Laughter also emerged from the corners of the Control room. Seemed their busy tasks halted for a person that they would mock. Even small cheers appeared to fuel negan''s egoistic superiorityplex of a maniac.


    Lance found a CloudArchive tab on the neighboring desk and swung the tablet to negan''s face, smashing thetter''s teeth ¨C but only in his imagination.

 Chapter 75: Prick

    Kranian Industries, Northern Sector, Axe Central City


    ***


    Saner minds prevailed.


    negan had no choice but to cascade everything on the list. However, his snobbish treatment towards Lance had made it more difficult for the former to elucidate the details.


    "co-TOR? What the heck! Is there such a thing?" negan continued to protest.


    "Have you been to any factories before?" The Electrical Tier 3 Scientist took him to an elevator. He ced his palm on the scanner and the elevator took them three levels down.


    "Underground?" Lance asked.


    "Can''t you read? It''s Level negative 3¡­" negan cursed indistinctly, "¡­of course, we are going underground."


    Lance let it slide, maintaining aposed and calm professional demeanor.


    ''He might be testing me of some sort. Testing my patience. Or maybe such an act was directed by Doctor Zee, observing if I am fit to handle such a specialized position,'' He convinced himself.


    As the elevator hissed open, unkempt high-technology factory equipment and disorganized operators despite the cleanliness of the environment greeted them.


    ''Far from what I witnessed from other production lines,'' Lance thought.


    "This is your production line of your invention, RoFlo," negan started sauntering inside the disorder. The people inside still setting up the equipment and production had not started yet.


    "If this is your first time and you haven''t had any pre-masters degree yet, I will enlighten you a bit of the functions of TOR," negan said as he checked on the first item in the checklist in his digital tablet that he carried with him.


    Lance nodded.


    "Braise yourself, Mr. Berkley, being a TOR is not easy. And Doctor Zee is not always present to rescue you." negan teased, bringing his face near to Lance''s and uttered the words almost to a whisper.


    "Firstly," he retracted and raised his voice, "a TOR or the Toll Operations Representative is the overseer of the product specspliance."


    "Why Toll?" Lance asked, just testing negan''s seemingly self-dered expertise.


    "Toll? You don''t know?" he chuckled with the menacing smile of a bully. "Well, Kranian is the Toller and the Corporation is the owner of the product. It means that Kranian Industries will only produce the product but the Corporation will pay for the raw materials and will buy out all output that the Toller produced.


    Well, I represent Kranian and its production team, on the other hand, you, represent the Corporation."


    "This right here, are they ready to go production?" Lance asked.


    Seeing the operators still connecting cables, modifying settings, and calibrating devices, had made Lance worry.


    "Yeah, they are good to go. TOR, it is time for work," negan tapped his shoulder hard.


    "Wait! Is that it? What about the checklist?" Lance asked, his voice emanating annoyance.


    "Now, lookie here! Demanding, aren''t you?" negan''s stare held onto Lance''s eyes, the unblinking stare and a curt smile that meant that what he was doing at that moment was a waste of time. "You must keep up, Mr. Berkley. I am supervising ten production lines here. And I can''t babysit someone like you.


    You must study on your own!"


    "Thank you, Mr. negan. I will let Doctor Zee know your hard work here in Kranian and also, your warm wee orientation of a new TOR," Lance said. He retaliated with a teasing smile too.


    "Ugh, you little brat, you are!" negan released a frustrated sigh. "Ok. Ok. I will cascade the tasks of a TOR but I am not going to repeat them. I will not entertain questions and I will not entertain any sort of intervention while I talk. Understood?"


    Lance nodded. ''It''s better this way than to guess my tasks."


    "First. You inspect the quality of raw materials produced by other industries. Such as your case moldings, and the tentacles."


    "Second," negan continued without exining. But Lance needed no exnation. He already knew the concept of it. Kranian had no capability of fabricating the case moldings and the tentacles. Kranian''s expertise was only in the production of internal circuitries and assembly. "Then, the assembly.


    You have to verify the processpliance of eachponent. This is the tricky part but it demands your time. You must conduct random testing of the produced Integrated Circuits for your device''s boards."


    "Aren''t your team going to conduct quality testing before endorsement to assembly?" Lance asked.


    He knew assembly lines should conduct the testing themselves. It was their responsibility and the TOR should only verify the effectiveness of the testing.


    "Smarty, aren''t yah. I know this is your first time, so do as I told ya!"


    They paced around the production line in between the gaps of disorganized factory equipment. However, they were only passing by. negan should supposedly introduce the use of equipment at least.


    "After its assembly, you will then oversee the verification procedures of the product. You will spearhead the test."


    negan pointed towards arge water tank sitting in the corner of the room. "That would be your testing tank."


    "Aren''t you gonna set up here first to proceed with production?" Lance asked.


    "Nope! Oh look," negan pointed at arge door that slid open and came in a pallet of boxed products carried by a robotic forklift. "the casings arrived. You better go to work, Mr. Berkley."


    negan turned and walked back to where they came, towards the elevator and leaving Lance in the production floor, alone.


    ''Can''t believe this prick!'' Lance cursed inwardly. ''Concentrate, Lance!''


    Without direction and hints, Lance gawked at the working operators doing their tasks.


    Near him, Lance tapped the shoulder of one operator who plugged the cables into one piece of equipment. The operators sometimes were factory workers who only earned a minimum wage.


    "Hey. Is he always like that?" Lance asked.


    The man only smiled at him and scratched his head. "That douche? Yeah, what do you expect from a high-sser? You know better, you are a mid-sser!"


    "Nope. I am just promoted to Mech Tier 1 but ssifications meant shit to me."


    "Really, now. You are a TOR, right? So we are working under you and under that ass negan? You don''t say you don''t believe in ssifications."


    "Hey, this is my first time, and never handled a team before. Cut me some ck, will yah." Lance retorted.


    "How old are ya? Neen?" The man asked.


    "Nope, sixteen."


    "Even worse. But, it''s good for ya, kid. You are a TOR now even with that age. Wow! That''s something."


    "Yeah. It would surprise you that I live in Steelpoint," Lance said.


    "Wait, what? You are amoner too? I live in BrassLot, near the Eastwall. Near Eastern Scrapyards. Marcus right there, lived in Steelpoint." The man pointed to his colleague pushing therge Factory Equipment to the corner.


    "I don''t know really what I''m doing. That prick, negan, is not actually of great help. He should be the one who will put me up to speed."


    "Ha! Ha! Ha!. Yeah, prick he is. Ok. I have been here for five years now and I have been with several TORs like you, but not like you, actually.


    You are different. Way younger, amoner, and a Mech Tier 1. What the hell, kid? Complete package, aren''t ya? Yeah, I heard from the others, gossiping of the new TOR. I thought ya were just like them."


    Lance''s strategy hopefully worked ¨C findingmon ground with the rank-and-files, and achieving sympathy from them to make this production a sess.


    "Yeah, what the hell. I can''t just slip past an opportunity like this. I need some units, too. Ya know our situation asmoners, we need the money. Hustle to the point of exhaustion." Lance said, speaking asmoners do.


    "Where exactly in Steelpoint are ya?"


    Now, Lance knew that the man was testing him if he dered the truth.


    "Cabins for years, near Scraps 1, along storm drains. You know the smell, right?"


    Commoners knew about the storm drains - wide and deep canals, and constructed a concrete riprap on both sides. The stench of those drains that came from the ind wastewater and stretched towards the external parts beyond the walls was appalling for the neighboring residential zones of Commoner sectors.


    No Inders knew about the horrendous smell that came from the storm drains.


    "Know the stench, kid? We are damn lucky. Well, am I going to call you Mister?"


    Then, Lance knew that he passed the man''s test.


    "You can call me anything you want, Mister¡­?"


    "Brigz. Gab Brigz."


    "Mister Brigz."


    They shook hands, and Lance initiated by offering his hand first. He saw Brigz''s hostility had faded. High and Middle ssers do not shake hands withmoners. This had solidified his roots, a Commoner.


    "Ya don''t need to be formal around here, boss. Just act normal, all right, you''ll be fine."


    "What should we do? The first raw material Transport is already at our doorstep." Lance asked.


    "Don''t worry, boss. I know negan is setting you up for failure. But we, won''t let that happen."


    Brigz said as he called the crew to gather around.

 Chapter 76: Crew

    Fifteen factory operators gathered around Brigz. He seemed to be most tenured amongst them or maybe mature enough, early forties, to informally lead the people, asmoners usually needed someone they could look up to.


    "Gang, this is Lance, our new co-TOR of Doctor Zee. He''s the recement for Mister negan. He''s a Commoner, just like us. I have confirmed it," Murmurs from the crew came indistinctively. "Let him say a few words."


    Brigz had a way of speaking like he was a Technical Course Graduate.


    "Thanks, Mister Brigz," Lance started as he stepped forward beside the tenured employee. "Mister Brigz is right, I am a Commoner like you, and live in Steelpoint. But I am a newly promoted Mechanic Tier one so, I will be transferring to Hypervista next week as one of my perks."


    The crowd was silent. Speaking in front of the public, Lance focused his attention on his voice. A tendency oftentimes, if he experienced awkwardness or a little discouragement or intimidation, his voice would sharpen.


    "So, please bear with me. This is my first time to handle operations like this. However, I will always attend to your questions, or any encountered operational problems on how to deal with them."


    "Are you gonna be here nine to five?" one crew asked.


    "No, not every day. But maybe three hours a day until we can stabilize production." The murmurs came again.


    One thing he learned from his father about factory operations is that problems don''t stop emerging, even how robust the process is. It exined that for this new product, the operators needed a higher mind to solve problems for them. This posed a predicament for Lance, as it could consume precious time, disorienting his hectic schedule.


    He already anticipated this as his father had already mentioned a little about factory operations.


    Hence, his response was rather bold and new.


    "That''s our problem ever since, boss," Brigz spoke up. "A lot of production dys happened because we encountered design problems and nobody we could consult on what to do. Because the TOR and the Supervisor are absent."


    "I know your concerns," Lance responded. "This is new for you maybe and unorthodox. But I will train you, all of you, on portions of the technical details of what you are handling, and you can solve problems on your own. I know this has never been done before - the training. I know we are on a tight schedule. We will be producing ten thousand units of these until a month before the Demetrian Season."


    "Ten thousand units for two months? That''s outrageous!"


    "How can we produce such volume and we are restricted of Overtime?"


    "What if we can''t finish? We will be the ones to be med. Heartless fat cats will deduct damages from our sries."


    And other more discernable concerns were raised. Lance overheard them, however, had not answer them one by one.


    "Yes, I know. Someone told me that mostly the production efficiencies plummeted because of the unattended problems. Because of the TOR''s absence."


    A rampant and known predicament that most manufacturing lines encountered. The absence of TOR and the inability of the Supervisor to solve such problems greatly affected line efficiency by a twenty percent decrement.


    "Therefore, to address that, we will have skeletal production times. Instead of nine to five, we will operate production, nine to three. And the remaining two hours, we will dedicate in training. This will go over a week, just lend me your ears. I will train you, cascade all I know about manufacturing RoFlo."


    There were nods, there were shaking of heads. They seemed to have no unified say about Lance''s proposal.


    "Trainin''? We need no schoolin''!" One operator said. Others agreed.


    "We are cutting off momentum, boss. Why not just be here every hour and every minute?" one operator pointed out. The easiest way for them to resolve the problem and prevent dys was by the ever-present TOR.


    "What''s the use, if you ain''t here?"


    "Give me a break, will ya? In this age, we need no more info, kid!"


    "Wait! Give the boy a minute to speak." Brigz said, realizing that Lance had been pale-looking ever since the concerns were voiced out.


    Lance took moments to straighten himself and cleared his throat.


    "I hear you all. All good points and I understand your sentiments. You all experienced being treated unfairly by the management or by previous supervisors and TOR. Well, I am trying to make an amenable approach here. Let''s try for a week, then if it does not work, all of us will increase our working hours topensate for the downtimes we had in the past week."


    "They are not even paying us overtime!" one man said.


    "Ok. I am going to make a deal with you. This is risky, not for you, but for me. I will pay your overtime for one week from my own pocket."


    "Woah, boss. That''s too much. Are ya sure? I mean, I haven''t met someone from any organization who''d pay the sry of others. Are you even good for it?" Brigz said.


    "I am good for it. If it happens, my sry here as a coTOR will be allocated to your overtime. And the chances are if I don''t pay you overtime, you will start to be demotivated and eventually would decline efficiency. It will greatly affect me, too. I won''t have this job offer again in the future for a failed production."


    "Hmm. If you walk the talk, boss. Then I think, everyone will agree to it."


    There were whispers among them, discussing. The weaker ones or the new ones were being swayed by the older or stronger ones. This was what happened.


    "What say you?" Lance asked.


    He knew paradigm shifts were hard to handle for the simple-mindedmoners. However, it''s his best shot at conserving his time ¨C Aiveez Nursery, Zelkian farming, Tyllrium trade, and transferring Hypervista. In addition, hismitment as Jaqi''s research partner.


    Their sry was guaranteed, and if his n went sideways ¨C not achieving target units until the deadline, they would me Lance for a nontypical approach.


    "Let''s do this," It was Brigz who answered.


    In Factory operations, it was always best to identify the root cause of the problem and create action ns out of it. Not some band-aid solutions without totally fixing a greater predicament.


    Lance nced at the cameras installed at the corners of the production floor. He was sure that negan was watching them.


    ''Your skin will crawl, negan. Wait and see,'' Lance thought, imagining negan''s defeated face.


    "My next agenda would be," Lance gained momentum. Even though the crowd had not approved his approach unanimously, at least Brigz agreed with him. And it was clear that the people had utmost respect for their tenured colleague. "How are we going to start producing with the equipment we have?"


    "Setting up first, boss. Get the equipment fired and ready. But mind ya, it will take us a day or two. Cream-of-the-crop means intricate modifications that needed careful attention." Brigz responded.


    "The case moldings, Brigz. What are we going to do with it? It''s against protocol to just leave the mats unchecked." One operator asked.


    "Let''s not check the raw materials first. We are breaking a lot of protocols, I think. And negan had us on the brink of failure in our first production day." Lance interjected.


    "Yeah, the timing and prep are way off," Brigz agreed.


    "We tend with our equipment prep first, before anything else. Let''s leave the mats unchecked, then after we finish preparing and setting, we will unbox them." Lance said. "Do you have any objections?"


    His decision was way off from protocol, as one operator suggested. But checking the received materials without setting up the machinery first, would cause dys. Allocating operators to check on the mats and leave the equipment set up would decrease the preparation rate and would start production maybe on the third day.


    Luckily, there were no objections. It meant that his decision was sound and the operators understood it.


    On the other hand, as his father pointed out, the secret of leadership was involving his subordinates as a part of the leader''s decision-making, recognizing them as valuable contributors to the team.


    Doing so, would motivate an individual.


    The operators did as Lance had suggested and the people had a vibe of optimism as they continued equipment set-up.

 Chapter 77: Delay

    Kranian Industries, Northern Sector, Axe Central City.


    The next day.


    ***


    The types of equipment were designed to be easily arranged and rearranged depending on the project''s process flow. Therge equipment had wheels, despite the heavy-looking metallic bodies, however, they were easy to move.


    ''Just like the barricades we used in the Peak Line as we trapped the Obsidian Scorpion with the gang,'' He remembered.


    The equipment were lined up, conveyor belts seemed to fall to ce in a manner of efficient transport. The operators, because of tenure and experience in previous projects, gave them an overviewed knowledge of how the machines workpatible to the current production order.


    "Don''t worry, boss," Brigz said as they looked upon the motivated operators powering up their assigned equipment. "They know what to do. The schematic board connections and IC instation will be in the SchematicBoard Assembler. This is the first phase." Brigz ushered Lance to the first entry of raw materials.


    The SchematicBoard Assembler had a five-meter metallic cylinder with a two-meter diameter opening. On the side of the metallic cylinders, mounted digital pads and control panels amodated the modifications. The operator deftly punched the digital buttons, modifying the settings. The screen blew up indistinctive figures and numbers that Lance had little or no idea.


    Somewhat, the operators had basic engineering courses as they quickly managed the machinery modifications. Sometimes, the operator typed fast without even looking at the digital keypads.


    Each of them was adept with their assigned equipment. They had been operating theseplicated machineries for years, Lance assessed.


    Lance almost forgot that they were Commoners who never had proper education, not even had the introductory courses for Aspiring Scientists offered in SARS. They were just trained by other tenured Commoner operators during their first deployment and had gained usable machinery expertise through them and experience.


    "In the second phase, the RoFlo tentacles instation will take ce." Brigz continued. "This is a secondary Assembler that has minute robotic arms inside for the instation of fine wires and microboards, as small as one-by-one inch boards, could be wired using the MicroArm Assembler."


    The second phase equipment was way different than the SchematicBoard Assembler. The MicroArm Assemblerprised a series of twenty fabrication tables he had in his apartment. It held small robotic arms, about 12 inches long each, and inch-thick, like millipede legs moving instantaneously and independently installed above the working metallic table.


    This equipment held the most wiring connections from different power supplies and regtors. Electric current should be regted to remove power surges, preventing the micro motherboards from being toasted.


    "Ourst phase will be the final assembly. The enclosures of the round casings with the installed ICs and tentacles, and then packaging." Brigz said as he apanied Lance to the expanse of all the phases of the lined-up equipment.


    The final assembly was thergest among them. It held sinuous conveyor belts running turns, circling, and passing through assembly robotic arms. The operator tested the conveyor belt''s movement and modified its speed while calibrating the movement of assembly robotic arms, moving in and out of the conveyor belt''s space.


    The whole setup consumed half of the production floor covering one thousand square meters. And the other half was an empty space that held pallets of raw materials.


    "Another pallet transport came in just this morning," Brigz reported, pointing to another stic-sheathed tonnage of piled boxes sitting idly at the wall. That''s another inventory piling up next to the recently inspected raw materials.


    Lance released a frustrating sigh. He imagined neganughing his heart out upon seeing them in hisputer connecting the CCTV due to their dys.


    ''You ass, negan! You should be the one down here setting up.'' He scoffed.


    "That''s two pallets, boss. One pallet of raw material is equivalent to one-day production. It means¡­" Brigz exined.


    "It means we are a day or two behind," Lance interjected.


    "Yes, boss. Right. We are doing the best we can. The timing is bullshit. negan nned this." Brigz sneered.


    ***


    As previously discussed, three in the afternoon onwards was their operator''s training. They processed half the pallet after they finished the setup.


    "Boss, we can still finish the whole load if we will move the training to another day," Brigz said.


    It would entail only a one-day dy instead of two days. ''Over a million units dyed. The management is gonna cook me after this.'' Lance thought.


    "This is much more urgent; we proceed with the training." Lance retorted.


    "The management will be on your ass, boss," Brigz said.


    "Let me worry about them. I will handle Doc Zee, too, if anything goes monumentally wrong!" Lance responded.


    They settled down in chairs, all fifteen of them. One operator pressed one of the digital breakers that isted the equipment power line. All the humming machinery powered down, the lights and the ACU remained.


    As the rumpus settled, and everyone on their respective chairs, Lance stood in front of them towering among the despondent-looking Commoners.


    "You probably still doubting that what we are doing is a total waste of time," His audience held an awkward silence. Despite that, he continued, "We are not. If looking at the moment, we are wasting half a million worth of marketable products supposedly that we can produce until the end of the day. But I am looking beyond.


    I am looking at the solution of twenty percent dys because of the operator''sck of technical know-how."


    The murmurs grew and their sharp stares aimed at his direction.


    "Ok, boss." One operator said, "You proved your point. What are we going to do next?"


    Lance clicked on his wrist and a Holographic construct blew up in front of him for everyone to see.


    "All right," Lance said, "This is a video of how I conduct the prototype. My prototype is close to what we are producing now. Well, I only have my fabrication table at home, so, it took me a day just to produce one prototype."


    The holographic construct yed a video recording of every step he took as he assembled the RoFlo prototype. Questions raised were almost unceasing. Lance answered them all, so borately. The questions came almost like a machine gun, firing towards him, eventually, he blocked them all. Their manner of questioning portrayed their eagerness to learn.


    "I know this is more borate than the one cascaded to you from your Kranian supervisors. What they only tell you is the process of how to produce them without knowing the in-depth reason for it. And how these parts function in unison to make a functional RoFlo unit." Lance exined.


    The questioningsted for over an hour. It was mentally devastating but emotionally fulfilling.


    "I will be sending work manuals via Cloud to each of you." Their wrist cloud drives blinked and everyone received a file from Lance.


    "In the work manuals, you will find videos and intricate exnations of what I recently discussed. We can''t absorb everything just by standing here for one day. Read the exnations until you master them. If you have questions, let''s discuss on the next day."


    Lance had never thought to muster such confidence speaking to middle-aged men. Most likely, his confidence rooted during the times he presented his business dealings to the Rebel Council.


    Five days passed and thest day of the week came like lightning, and the team was doing the same routine, producing until three in the afternoon and training onwards until five. Lance had been present all week but only every three hours per day, as he promised. However, the inventory of raw materials piled up. The number of piles of raw materials was directly proportional to their dys.


    One pallet load was equivalent to one production dy. Over the week the pallet load increased. Logically, his production dys also increased.


    There were three pallets equivalent to three million units of undelivered merchandise. Saturday came and it was hisst session of operator''s training. Expectedly, there were only a few questions raised as they tackled almost all possible problems, sometimes simting possible scenarios.


    Lance tested them asionally with questions about probable production predicaments. He did the questioning, too. Evidently, the operators had garnered in-depth knowledge, answering every question he threw at them.


    "What is this!" A thundering voice loomed as the elevator behind them opened. It was negan, still with his perfectly white and pressedb coat, his wet hair still untouched, and wearing a face unsullied with stress. He stormed towards the group with echoing steps of boots against marble floors.


    "You know what! The Executives will fry our asses! We are three days dy! That''s three million, can you even grasp the impact?" His reprimand was directed to Lance. "Doctor Zee is going to kill us. You are a failure, Mister Berkley.


    You are not fit to be a TOR. Your first time will shame your reputation."


    The group grew silent. negan''s eyes bulged in utter anger. Lance held his nonchnce toward the storming supervisor. Responding or even matching the fuming Supervisor''s rage was futile, or an immense waste of energy.


    "You insolent Scientist! This is the result of no education. No regard for the consequences because you are nothing but a lowlifer. You are used to settling for less and cannot grasp the greater impact of failure! Your fiasco will get me fired."


    negan was an Electrical Tier 3 Scientist and epted the privilege of supervising production lines, as all Electrical Tiers could, under the Management of an Electronic Tier or higher.


    Lance only stood unscathed with the words seemed to be weapons of emotional destruction. He stood in front of his audience without any hint of disarray. His indifference boiled the raging Scientist further while thetter stood so close to Lance like he was going to punch the kid.


    "You are testing my patience, you impudent shame!" He cursed, his volume never faltered.


    Lance took a step closer, maintaining his indifference. The operators on their seats behind negan had maintained silence too and remained seated. Hoping maybe to watch either one of them to be embarrassed in front of many.


    "Why aren''t you answering me, you pest!" negan shouted this time. Despite his fiery rage, Lance took steps closer to him, making negan stagger retreating steps.


    "What are you doing, are you going to hurt me? You psycho!" negan continued to retreat as Lance continued to press forward. Thetter''s eyes held a killing intent. Until negan stumbled among the chairs, creating a chaotic mess.


    There was faintughter among the operators as they witnessed the embarrassing fall of their supervisor.


    ''I faced monsters. I quarreled with rebel leaders. I always face death. One egoistic maniac would not scare me.'' Lance thought.


    "Doctor Zee will know about this!" negan, frustratingly, hauled himself up. His perfectly pressedb coat emerging worn creases because of his fall. Nobody helped him stand.


    Then afterward, he stormed out without receiving any word from Lance.

 Chapter 78: Schooled

    Afternoon.


    The marble floors contributed to the reputable image that of Kranian Industries - rich, and topnotch. Even though their external surroundings held no touch of symmetrical fake garden parks that Skycorp had, one would be awed inside the establishment. Everything was squeaky clean; the marbles had a smooth coating that provided a faint mirror.


    The bright lights above them bounced against the marble floor, hence, intensifying the illumination within the confines of the room.


    Brigzid demarcation lines on the floor, the traffic-yellow one that sticks almost permanently. Scrubbing it for removal could be very frustrating.


    "What''s that for?" Lance asked the operator who was bent over, sticking the yellow lines.


    "This is to maintain the order of things, boss. The lines would remind anyone here the cements should be within the assigned demarcations."


    Lance nodded. Evidently, Brigz had seen clutter of unkempt cements of raw material pallets. Working tables were moved out of ce as operators conducted their inspections. Apparently, Brigz knew the general overview of things transpiring inside the production area, while operators had fixated their focus on their task at hand, neglecting what was beyond their responsibility.


    Brigz portrayed leadership traits among his colleagues.


    "That''s smart, Brigz," Lance said. It''s the third day of the second week. The air was filled with motivated employees,ser-focused on aplishing targets.


    "How are we with the dys?" Lance asked Brigz, finishing up as he rolled the stickers in its ce. Brigz ced the cutting tool and the roll of yellow stickers inside the toolbox. Brigz, even though a Commoner, had a proper arrangement on the production floor, also manifesting inside his toolbox. The tools were neatly arranged, as if he would know immediately if something wascking.


    "Strangely, boss, we are catching up. Last week, we had three pallets dyed. Now, we only have one."


    "Have you encountered problems that caused line stoppage?" Lance asked.


    "Yes, boss. All predicaments were solved immediately. The manual was a great help, boss." Brigz held an authentic smile and it meant his appreciation. "This is a great lesson for this team, moving forward."


    Commoners barely smiled, due to their dire need for survival every waking day. And of course, the uncertainty of food and water shortages due to theck of money.


    They can''t afford hospitalization, hence, they need to be healthy all the time. How can one be healthy if they are always eating processed food? As the Commoners would say, strengthen the mind to fend off sickness, otherwise face hunger and thirst for a month.


    "Are you surprised?" Lance asked.


    "Yes. Even my boys are surprised, too. This is a good approach, boss. What about you? What say negan?"


    "I''m fine, no worries. He told me that he already informed Doctor Zee of our dys. So, expectedly, he wille."


    "Are you scared?" Brigz asked.


    "Nope. I have a lot of things to be scared of, but not Doctor Zee and especially not negan or the Kranian management." Lance responded.


    "You are somethin'', boss. Really, something," Brigz said. "The boys are talking about what you said the other week. Are you gonna pay their overtime?"


    That exined the asional squinting of the operators toward Brigz and Lance as they stood on the clearing facing the stretch of the lined-up equipment.


    "Yes, I am a man of my word. You go ahead with overtime only if necessary. But to my calctions, there will be no more overtime in the seeding days because you managed to solve problems without even my intervention."


    "They also initiated process improvements on their own to increase efficiency, boss, withoutpromising the quality of work," Brigz reported.


    They could work without negan''s supervision. The crew was trained to initiate process improvements. Only two things made this possible, either negan trained them to be assertive with process improvements, or just because if they were behind the target, the management would deduct their sries due to damages, eventually, driving the crew to assert shortcuts. Lance believed thetter.


    "Speak of the devil, boss!"


    The elevator slid open and their attention shifted to the movement of the emerging people.


    As expected, Mister negan, the ass-licker, ushered Doctor Zee to the production floor. He had been very active-looking the moment he entered the area. He even showed Doctor Zee the phases of production, however, thetter showed indifference to the smooth-talking Supervisor. Although, the Doctor had curt nods as negan conversed with him.


    ''His mouth never stopped talking,'' Lance thought, just observing the ass-licker licked the ass of Industrialist tier 4.


    Lance felt the coldness of the stares of Doctor Zee, not a hint of a smile had appeared on his face since he entered the floor. He had a gloomy mood, seemingly, a thunderous cloud hovering overhead, ready to wreak havoc on the one responsible for the dy.


    asionally, Doctor Zee and negan talk to the third-phase equipment operators. He saw negan conversing like a politician, almost portraying that he had been on the floor ever since and did the groundwork. Somewhat, the ass-licker had manipted the story to grab credit or manipte the operator that Lance had schemed behind the supervisor''s back that caused the dys.


    Whatever would transpire, fear had not visited the new TOR.


    Surprisingly, he felt fearless. He knew the stakes; the impact of serviceability to the market, and the necessity of profitability, even the colossal responsibility, nevertheless, he stood unfazed by any of it. He was surprised. Could it be because he was bound to destroy everything the Corporation stood for? Could it be because a hero should not fear his enemies, like Doctor Zee?


    His spections were close to the truth. Or it was the truth.


    The storm that negan brought came to him like a subtle raging bull. It was only his imagination, but he knew Doctor Zee was unhappy. The creases of his forehead, the deathly stares, and the sad curve of his mouth said it all.


    "Care to exin?" negan said to Lance while Doctor Zee was on his side. Zee''s stare never left the kid.


    "I know you came here because of the dys. Our half-day dy." In Lance''s calction, their dys would be minimal at the end of the day granting the increasing momentum.


    "Don''t lie to us! It''s a three-day dy!" negan interjected, then turned to his mentor, "Doctor Zee, I have told you that assigning a newbie as your coTOR is a mistake." negan raised his voice, trying hard to hide his ipetence.


    "And you are saying you are a better TOR than he is?" Zee countered. It was the first time that Zee uttered a word since he entered the floor.


    "Ahm¡­ Of course, Doctor Zee." negan stammered, "I am well experienced and handled a lot of production lines here in Kranian. I think I proved my worth and my ability."


    "Really, now?" Zee scoffed. "For three projects as my TOR, we experienced a lot of customerints, dys, raw material wastages, and a dwindling profit margin arising from these problems. Then you are saying you are a better TOR?"


    It collided with negan like an unstoppable tsunami, wrecking everything in its path. negan was surely affected by the words of his mentor.


    "Doctor, if you let me exin. I resolved everything from the past and I am sure I can make up to you this¡­" He stopped as Doctor Zee held a palm up near his face.


    "You haven''t exined, Mister Berkley. You are standing in a fine line here. And it might be detrimental to your career, not only as a TOR but also as a Mech Tier Scientist." Zee said, even though his voice seemed calm, it had brought destruction.


    "Doctor Zee," Lance responded, matching Zee''s calm demeanor, "negan was right about the three-day dy. But this isst week''s report that I gave to him. As you require me to submit a report every Saturday. The reason for our dys because of my Crew training approach."


    "Yeah! I have seen them talkingte in the afternoon every day without any output!" negan interjected as he tried to step in between Zee and Lance.


    A cold stare streaked through negan''s from Doctor Zee and was instantly silenced. Lance just watched how the ass-licker would be schooled by his stupidity.


    Lance noticed Brigz and the crew had their asional gawking among them as the conversation progressed.


    "Training, Mister Berkley? That is odd. We don''t train crews nowadays. We have state-of-the-art, user-friendly equipment that needs no training. Why did youe up with this method? You are going back to the prehistoric," Zee said.


    "Well, Doctor Zee. You are right. What I am doing is old school. But we cannot dismiss the fact that the old school''s still applicable depending on the situation." Lance answered.


    "Situation, Mister Berkley? Please borate," Zee asked.


    "Yes. I have been studying from other industries or even gotints from my clients of scrap materials, these are supervisors too, mostly in SteamHaven, and based on statistical records, there is a twenty percent production dy due to theck of technical know-how of machine operators."


    Zee nodded. His gloomy mood seemed to brighten a little, but so vaguely that one can''t determine from afar. He held no smile yet but his eyes softened, the wrinkles on his forehead were lessened, and his stiff jaw seemed to loosen.


    Probably, in Lance''s perspective, Doctor Zee also heard this kind of statistical data from other Manufacturing industries.


    "Expound, Mister Berkley. I suppose what you are going to tell me right now is not only information usable to me but to Mister negan as well."


    negan flushed his cheeks and ran towards his ears to spicy red. Apparently, the supervisor was infuriated.

 Chapter 79: Justified

    Kranian Industries, AmdonCore Sector, Northern, Axe Central City.


    ***


    negan''s face wanted to kill the kid who outshined him. His mentor, years of working under Doctor Zee, now had his eyes shifted to the young kid. A probable prot¨¦g¨¦ at a very young age could rise to ranks, faster. Which probably disturbed the aspiring Electrical Tier Scientist. Moreover, a Commoner and an uneducated individual could surpass him.


    "The dys happened because the operators needed another mind to solve for them, such as a TOR or a supervisor," Lance said. "Sometimes these problems are easy to solve. These short-time dys, almost insignificant will umte in time, making it a 20% dy on average. Therefore, allocating time to train the operators solves this problem."


    "Sometimes, people are resistive to new knowledge and training. How did you manage to cascade information properly to them for only ashort period?" Zee asked.


    "Work manuals, Doctor Zee. I made them myself. I created a data log when I produced the prototype. It''s much the same. If they knew the concept of what they were making, they knew how to handle roadblocks. Therefore, eliminating the 20% dy, and maintaining the production momentum."


    Doctor Zee nodded.


    "Interesting. The manuals we made that came from the research and opening team are not sufficient?" Zee asked.


    Lance shook his head gently. "They were just processes without in-depth information."


    Doctor Zee nodded,zily. Somewhat doubtful of what he just said recently.


    "Let me check on them, probably the research team is not paying much attention to a more detailed work. Their manuals should beprehensive," Zee said.


    "You can check on them, Doctor," Lance said. "Mister negan approved them. They are useful at some point, but when facing problems, the pre-work manuals will not save the day."


    "Let me check on them," Zee said. He typed something in his wrist holographic drive. Probably those digital sticky notes for him to remember what had beendiscussed.


    "How did you manage to get back on track? In yourst week''s report, you have a three-day dy. But now, only for a half-day," Zee asked.


    There was a slight pause from Lance. He hesitated if he would disclose his promise to the crew topensate them for their overtime with his own money.


    "Overtime, Doctor Zee." He said it.


    "Overtime? We are gonna pay premium for that," Zee said.


    "No need to worry. I just want to finish the target in due time so I promised the team that I would pay them overtime with my own money."


    "Your own money?" Zee asked. Surprised. "You can''t do that; it would be a precedent. Men talk, you know. And if they know that one of the TORs is paying overtime with his own money, then it could raise questions from other lines. We are strict about overtime here due to the premium pay, Mister Berkley."


    A smile formed on Mister negan, smelling a little hint of victory. But Lance had already anticipated where the conversation would tread, hence his answer almost automatically flowed out from his mouth. Almost involuntary.


    "It''s actually how I decided, Doctor Zee. I cannotpromise the targets because of my unorthodox approach. I gambled my money to them to catch up on our dy. It''s either I will lose a few units or lose my career as a TOR because of a monumental production dy.


    To my calction, the twenty percent dy will cost us hundreds of thousands of units against my insignificant hundreds of units to pay for their overtime."


    Zee shook his head, and his smile gleamed against the shiny marbled floor. His hands now went inside the pockets of hisb coat, and his shoulder had rxed. The tension had evaporated towards the kid, but negan had risen an invisible pressure waiting for him to shatter.


    negan was hugely defeated.


    "You got me there, Mister Berkley. Do you know what I appreciated the most during your RoFlo defense presentation for Patent?... It''s becauseof the way you calcte things. This is what I expect from you here as my co-TOR." Zee praised.


    He then turned his back from the kid. A curt smile from the Industrialist left the kid at ease, signifying that his gamble had been a sess.


    "And by the way. You don''t need to pay their overtime. Kranian management will pay for them." Zee said as he looked over his shoulder as he stopped.


    "negan! Come to the office at once. Lance can handle this alone."


    negan followed suit, his movement jittered. He knew better not to defy Doctor Zee.


    Every Scientist, during the Mechanical and Electrical Tiers stint, wanted to be a Toll Operations Representative (TOR), better than bing a Supervisor.


    A TOR will receivemissions after a sessful production target, even with the dys. For a hundred percent on time and in full production target, the TOR would garner five thousand units to twenty thousand units after the project. Depending solely on how the products were produced ¨C the number of wastages, the quality, the number ofints, and of course, the magnitude of dys.


    negan, as a supervisor, would only receive a sry. In his caliber, an Electrical Tier three Supervisor and working under a reputablepany, he would earn as much as 2000 units per month.


    To earn so lucratively, in negan''s position wanted to be a TOR simultaneously as a Supervisor too, to double or triple his earnings.


    Lance was not solely after themissions. He did not even ask Doctor Zee about it as he was offered the position. He just epted it, to elerate himself to ranks and gain confidence and fame in the highest ranks of the Corporation.


    ***


    Apartment Zone, Steelpoint District, Axe Central


    ***


    "Greetings, Master Lance. Wee home!" Jasper said as Lance entered his apartment. As usual, he dug his back to his massage chair. He remembered the cushion chairs of Kranian''s waiting area, it was more heaven than what he had in his room.


    He squinted at his room. He missed the smell, that aromatic smell of the Aiveez nts that would fend off persistent Abominated pests. His room was empty now. asional soil grains still heaved his floor. He had little time to perfectly clean it, dirt-free.


    Consequentially, he was used to sleeping in his couch with the Aiveez nursery in his room. He left the condition of his room, untouched for days. Maybe a week already. He could not remember.


    His sight fell on the ever-chaotic piled scraps for his augmentation and fabrication. Metallic tubes, steel sheets, and scrap electronicponents were chaotically ced on the floor in the corner, or leaning against the side of the wall, adjacent to his living room. His procrastination had kicked in, evidently on his scrap materials.


    Because of his love for scrapping, he sometimes would visit the Scrap yards just to scavenge umon to rare materials orponents and bring them home without further fabrication. Hence, these materials were not yet marketable unless fabricated to a desirable quality.


    His Fabrication table sits idly at the corner, seemingly calling for his attention. ''It needs calibration,'' He thought, he missed one calibration sequence for a week.


    "Jasper, run-down ''things-to-do''" Lance said.


    The hologram appeared in front of the living room.


    ------------------------------------------------------


    [1] Zelkian delivery, due in two weeks.


    [2] Tyllrium Trade delivery,due in two weeks.


    [3] Poison bombs assembly ¨C 50% of target


    [4] Market poison bombs ¨C 0%


    [5] In-vitro propagation of crops with Jaqi - 10% research done


    [6] Transfer to Hypervista Condominiums ¨C 0%


    [7] Acquire Energy elerator ¨C 0%


    [8] Build Ultragenerator ¨C 0%


    [9] Mystery Girl using the Project Nightfall concept


    -------------------------------------------------------------


    Looking at the Hologram, Lance sighed heavily. This list was established due for the fact that he was exhausted managing his time to squeeze his agendas.


    Despite his beaten state, he hauled himself up and walked through the hologram, and went straight ahead to the Fabrication Table. Something had told him that he needed to work much harder now. However, he needed an extra hand.


    "Jasper, I have good news." Lance announced.


    "What is it, Master?" Jasper responded.


    "I will upgrade you to Generation three AI, upgrading your cloud drives to maximum capacity, and with perpetual batteries so that you can go with me wherever I want."

 Chapter 80: Junction

    TechNova Sector, Center Quadrant Sectors, Axe Central City


    That night...


    ***


    Lance prowled from shadow to shadow, behind buildings, trash bins, andmpposts, where the city lights had failed to reach. He could be walking so fashionably along the streets if the ce had not warned about a neon-lit signage of ''No Trespassers''.


    His knees were sore from crouching and kneeling to hide behind cameras and patrol guards. Commoners do this a lot, trespassing. Only to loot on electronic waste just a few blocks from where Lance had concealed. Well, a lot of them were caught so carelessly. However, the punishment was ten times the amount of the scrapped electronic waste. Not so lethal.


    If caught, he would only be penalized with a mary value that he could pay and be recorded in the system that held the list of vitors that no one would care about.


    No big deal. Not even his precious image be smeared.


    Lance never had the audacity to steal anything, especially electronic waste. He had the mad skills of a Scrapper, transforming scraps better than the electronic waste that the TechNova Sector could offer.


    TechNova held the most Information Techpanies in Axe Central City. The source of all Clou operations maintenance and augmentations and programming. The Silicon Valley of today''s age.


    He pressed his palm against the concrete, he imagined the information surges below like streams of raging rivers and flowed towards the ocean of information, the end users within sectors.


    Expectedly, TechNova the capital of all Information Technologypanies, should hold the most intricate wirings that served as medium for the flow of information, the. However, Lance was surprised that all wires were buried underground like veins endlessly pumping blood information towards the organs. ''The Central Nervous System,'' He liked the analogy.


    Just like any other sector of the Ind, the TechNova sector held no dangling wires overhead along the streets, unlike in majormoner sectors - Steelpoint District, Brasslot, and VrexasField.


    Just a few blocks ahead, through the strobe lights of the security cameras and watch towers, held the central junction boxes of optical data wires.


    ''I should have brought Damian along.'' Lance thought as he released fourrge exhtions. His heart raced like a trotting horse.


    ''Calm yourself, you idiot!'' He convinced himself.


    It would be so much easier if the Clou would use satellite to transfer data and information. Just a few types in theputer would allow the user to ess information so immediately. However, because of the outrageously polluted and contaminated atmosphere, such technology was no longer feasible.


    Scientists still made alternatives out of the predicament, they used ground-enhanced and modified optic cables, masterwork materials, to make Clou possible.


    Uploading databases, basic information of facets of knowledge to the AI''s drive made the setup challenging. Lance needed his AI to be upgraded to new features andcould ess information from the for his immediate exploit. Such activity had been regted by the Government and Corporation.


    If Lance requested to ess the Clou and upload the information to his AI drives, the Corporation would disapprove.


    Therefore, to augment the database of Jasper''s AI drives, Lance should ess the Optic Hub junction box in TechNova Sector.


    Twenty meters would expose himself for a run until another wall of an establishment would once again hide him from the Security lights and cameras.


    Convincingly, he had been running all his life. He was a coward of danger, however, his exploits with the rebels had strengthened his courage and lessened his cowardice, to some sort. Or that''s what he had been telling himself as he entered the Sector.


    He waited. He observed the sequence of how the torchlights moved as it randomly and routinely scanned.


    Unfortunately, the numerous attempts of themoners to steal the electronic waste hadter increased the number of Security personnel to discourage further break-ins.


    Who could me them, these Commoners unceasingly discover ways to gain extra units to thrive or survive. Selling Electronic waste to scrappers was one way. Due to the Sector''s holding the most advancedputer technologies, the electronic wastes held 30%mon level scraps, 40% umon level, and 30% rare level scraps. Easy money if uncaught.


    ''I must create a diversion,'' Lance thought as he pressed his back against a cold concrete wall of one establishment obscuring behind the torchlights.


    He opened his knapsack and took one out of five poison bombs. He clicked it and the bomb activated. Then another click, the countdown appeared, five seconds.


    He threw the bomb at the expanse of the road to where he would foolishly attempt to run. The poison bomb exploded and released a blue mist, thick enough to conceal movements. The torchlights focused on the increasing grasp of the blue mist as it covered the whole twenty-meter expanse of the road, Lance jolted for a mad dash.


    His eyes could not materialize anything within the cloud, only the blue fragrant mist. Even so, he relied solely upon his imagination and the strength of his legs that quickened his pace.


    The security guards immediately responded with handguns in holsters and electric batons on their hands, waiting for the mist to subside. Fifteen secondter, the blue mist evaporated into the air, leaving nectar powder residues on the ground, andthen the guards invaded the concealed space with their shlights training for the culprit.


    Luckily, the fifteen seconds of floating blue cloud drove all security guards to divert their attention to the poison bomb. Lance arrived at an array of junction boxes, and perfectly organized pipes that held the wires, fenced with a steel interlinked gate.


    Lance took out hisser-filled hunting knife, activated it and it illuminated. He struck the padlock that kept the gate locked with the same knife. The padlock was sliced into two pieces and Lance entered.


    ''Padlock? How ancient.'' Lance thought. There were some things that technology has not grasped. Theck of budget maybe?


    Large metallic boxes like coffins, the junction boxes, piled horizontally along the fenced clearing, and stic flexible pipes, arranged like city roads mantled the clearing, then converged towards the metallic boxes.


    He heard theboots of numerous security guards marching toward the electronic waste yard. Fortunately, the yard was two blocks away from where he was.


    The metallic boxes that held a junction of data repeaters and mind-blowing random connections opened so easily with the use of hisser-filled hunting knife.


    As he opened the metallic cover, his sight was greeted with a series of ports, connections, boards, rys, and transformers, arranged so perfectly fitting the metallic confines. It was like a miniature city in a small box.


    ''C''mon, C''mon, C''mon,'' Lance thought as he trained his hand along the intricacy of the electronic board design. ''It''s gotta be somewhere here,'' Finally, he found it, the port that would upload the stream of information from the servers.


    He took out a Universal Serial Hard Drive, a small ck box, from his knapsack that he bought for 500 units at the market with 1000 terabyte capacity. He plugged it into one of the ports of the Main panel board. The USHD lit up its digital disy suggesting, ''downloading¡­0%''


    The advantage of downloading data directly from the lines would eliminate the introduction of atmospheric noise, hence, putting the downloading speed at its peak.


    ''Five minutes¡­'' Lance thought as the digital disyed the countdown.


    He settled himself down to the concrete, his back leaning against the metallic box and unresponsive to guffaws of the next block as security guards scoured the ce. He heard boots looming randomly from everywhere and it was nearing him.


    "This is for you, Jasper," He muttered to himself.


    "Master, ording to my scans, three guards nearing your location," Jasper said.


    "Suggestions?" Lance asked.


    "ording to my algorithm, with the Moral Value code you programmed me, you should surrender."


    "Surrender is for pussies, Jasper. I will fight back outta here!" Lance said.


    He squinted to the digital disy of the USHD. It said one minute. Quickly, he hid inside the coffin-like junction box and closed the tampered door in front of him.


    "Master, you are not following my suggestion," Jasper said.


    "Shut up, Jasper. Deactivate." Lance whispered and a power-down sound was heard from his earpiece.


    ''They might have found the sliced padlock,'' He thought.


    Three sets of boots slowly sauntering close. Opt radios shrieked as theymunicated with each other. He overheard them talking as they searched the ce, while his perspiration loomed every pore of his body. Cold sweat ran along his cheeks. ''My sweat might short-circuit the boards here,'' He thought as his back softly leaned against the panel board.


    Suddenly, there was silence.


    With the silence, he steadied his breathing. There were only two reasons that the guards were silenced, either they failed to locate his hiding or secondly, they already identified where he hides, granting the tampered metal cover that showed scars from the de of his hunting knife.


    He anticipated thetter.

 Chapter 81: Criminal

    Hey still in his chilling grave, surrounded by cold metal sheets, with only a faint string of light fingering through the crevice made by hisser knife earlier.


    The silencey still, the kid in the coffin-like junction box matched his silence outside, oblivious of what would transpire next. Boldly, he twisted his arm, forcing his thin limb to move against a constricted space, and grasped one poison bomb from his beaten knapsack.


    He clicked it once. The poison bomb activated as the small LED of green light glowed inside. One footfall of a boot betrayed the silence, and then he knew. He clicked the poison bomb twice and the countdown begins, five seconds.


    The metallic cover suddenly swung open. It was a security guard, ck-d padded vest, night vision visors, and thick-soled boots, with an electric baton squirming with surging current on his right hand and a bbergasted face.


    "You little¡­." The guard hissed. Two seconds to go. It was too long. Reactively, the guard used his electric baton to stun Lance but failed, instead, it went through the side of thetter''s armpit and short-circuited the junction box behind him.


    The guard may have been distracted by the blinking metallic sphere in Lance''s hand. As the panel board screamed of high-powered electrical surges, Lance pushed himself out against the heavier physique of the security guard and disarrayed his two colleagues behind him. One second, the bomb dropped to the concrete floor, then it exploded. Invading thick blue cloud among them.


    With the proximity of the bomb, they had zero visibility.


    "Master, to your left!" Jasper loomed an instruction.


    As soon as Lance hauled himself, breaking through reaching arms of the knocked-down security guard, he dashed straight to his left without regard of any obstruction but only his trust in his AI friend who whispered behind his ear.


    His hands forward caught the interlinked gate and exited the premises of the central optical junction boxes. However, his escape had not reached its finality. More boots came from all corners, covering his exits.


    ''The security guards might have converged on this site as reported by the three,'' He thought.


    So instantly, he thought of the only exit possible. However, his crew back in Kranian Industries would miss him tomorrow.


    He darted in the opposite to where his exit would be, going deeper to the central parts of the Sector, the Electronic Waste yards.


    Two blocks ahead, so near but seemed so far. It felt far, with the force of the security behind him. Electric stun bullets were fired, missing their marks, and flying passed him. On his nk at the left corner, the marching group came too, closing on him every waking second.


    He believed his long legs and strong heart had given him the advantage over these middle-aged men. His strides were long, his speed was topnotch, and even the weight of the bombs inside his knapsack was almost neglectable.


    Then, he arrived at the electronic scrap yards, unscathed. Then he knew he was trapped. ''It was better this way,'' He thought.


    ***


    Precinct 13.


    He sat in a chair beside a long metallic table, cold smoothness prating against his shackled palms on top of it. On top of the table were his three poison bombs lined up, and his beaten knapsack ced unkempt at the side. Next to it was a high-poweredputer voltage regtor.


    The corner fogmps shrieked intensely unto him like he was a rabid animal ready to be tranquilized. Mirrors on all sides of the walls suggested that there would be an interrogation soon.


    It was better this way and pay the penalty than to be caught for data theft, surely the punishment would be grave. Knowing the Corporation had regted public use of Opts, mobile high-generation AI, and many more. These Ordinances were issued like rain, some of them inclined to the prevention of data andmunication theft.


    One rm, the door across him opened, and a fat police officer, loosely adjusting his belt walking in. A familiar physique and a familiar face emerged after the door shuts behind him.


    "Lance Berkley, I know I have seen you before," The officer said sozily as he swallowed what he recently chewed. He flicked a few food remains on the side of his lip with his fingers and pulled a chair in front of him.


    As the officer''s face overcame the brightness of the fogmps, he then knew he was at precinct thirteen.


    "Officer Mat Brown of precinct 13," Lance said inly.


    "You remembered? You are sharp, kid."


    "Of course, it was only two months ago."


    "You seemed different. I did not see it way back that you are a criminal. Well, Jonaz Enterprises were subtle criminals that you can determine in in sight, but you, mysterious." Officer Mat said.


    "That''s because I am not a criminal," Lance responded.


    "Really, now!" Mat released augh, his palm drummed against the metallic table. "You just steal a regtor for Science''s sake. Caught in the act. You are lucky you are not stealing data or something on those junction boxes because you go straight to jail, I bet it. Or maybe you are, we just can''t trace it because it''s fried."


    A big relief visited the kid in question. Luck gave him a free pass from stealing data from the junctions.


    "You know why we do these things, officer."


    "What then? Enlighten me." He leaned back in his chair, slouched, and crossed his legs. He released a deep sigh and a mischievous grin stered his expression.


    To Lance, the officer''s demeanor meant that whatever he would say, he would still face the consequences.


    "Oppression of the Government and Corporation, Officer Mat," Lance said. "Commoners do these things, steal, rob, scam, because of the necessity to survive. You are just lucky, officer that policemen are paid more than that of a factory worker, that''s times two. I know it is wrong to steal, but these are only petty crimes, that trigger human instincts of survival.


    Well, to tell you the truth, I steal because we are governed by thews only advantageous to the privileged. Increasing money into their deep pockets."


    "You keep your opinions to yourself, Mister Berkley." He took out from his pocket his Opt ¨C they called it a cellphone before the Nuclear World War. He trained his finger against the digital pad.


    "Hmm. You are lucky. TechNova agreed only to pay ten times the amount of the regtor, as the Ordinance says here. Hmm. Let me check¡­ 60 units for the umon level scrap regtor, so you are going to pay 600 units as a penalty. If you can''t pay it, then you will have two months jail time and twenty days equivalent ofmunity service." Mat had a teasing smirk on his face.


    Lance knew what Mat was thinking. The officer thought that Lance could not pay up the penalty and would undergo jail time andmunity service.


    "So kid, surrender your belongings to the Desker office adjacent to this room and you will be spending two months from now."


    As he started to haul himself up, a condescending stare lingered some more then sauntered towards the door, he stopped as Lance spoke.


    "Where do I transfer the units?"


    "What the hell are you talking about kid? Do you have any 600 units in you? You won''t steal something like trash if you have that much money." Mat sneered and retreated from the door back to where he sat.


    "I guess it won''t happen again, Officer," Lance responded and saw the Officer''s expression turn bitter.


    Fuming in rage, Officer Mat took hard steps and grasped his cuffs so painfully for Lance''s wrist, metal against the skin. Officer Mat pressed his thumb in between the cuffs that connected his wrists and the two circr metallic rings that held his wrists opened up, resting his wrists from their constrictions.


    Officer Mat ushered him into the adjacent Desker office where he would pay his penalty. Unexpectedly, the Deskers were police officers too,moners.


    "By the way, I am keeping those smoke bombs of yours for evidence," Mat said as he pushed down Lance to a chair.


    "Theft, again?" One police officer said as Lance sat across from one Desker officer.


    "One of many for this week," The Desker who handled Lance responded. "Woah! Rich aren''t you? Are you going to pay this kinda money?"


    Lance nodded.


    The Desker officer held his stare like he was going tough. "Ok then, I ampelled to reprimand you to prevent this kind of vition again. For if caught the second time around, you will receive the same penalty of ten times the value of the stolen scrap and jail time for three months. No more exceptions, kid. You will have to be penalized for both, the second time you are caught.


    No worries, you won''t crowd the prison."


    Lance only smiled and did the transaction via his holographic.


    They say one would overhear policemen talking about confidential information being thrown at each other like it had no bearing. They had no regard for thebel ''confidential''. The Officers liked to tend on rumors, well, they should be. They should know firsthand what was happening within their area for them to anticipate any ensuing dangers.


    "Have you heard of deaths in Steelpoint? The Government covered it." A female police Desker opened up. "It was a week ago."


    "Leric covered it," one Desker responded.


    "If it''s murder then they should broadcast it," another Desker responded. They halted with everything they did as a rumor was tossed in the air.


    "Who died?"


    "Three of them, SHF."


    "SHF? Who are they?"


    "Special Homnd Forces. Secret force of the Government. They say they are designed to flush out the rebels."


    "That''s new. SHF, this is the first time I heard of them."


    "Yes. Leric started the group a week ago."


    "Leric of the Border Defense?"


    "Full sweep, rumors floated. I knew someone at his office."

 Chapter 82: Upgrades

    Kranian Industries, AmdonCore Sector


    The next day


    ***


    His illegal exploit the other day had been worth it. The 800 terabyte data inside his Universal Serial Hard Drive (USHD) was uploaded inside Jasper''s core drive, sessfully.


    Higher-echelon ss citizens had these kinds of mobile AI, but it cost a fortune, 200,000 units or maybe more. Such value was not meant for middle-ssers, much more like amoner. Even some of the high-ssers could acquire such technology.


    He used the core processing module of a scrap service robot of fourth-generation models, rare level, that he scavenged in the Scrap Tier 3 yard that he recently acquired.


    The core module of the service robot served as the operating system of his AI, Jasper. With other Programmable Logic Controller boards attached to the core processing module served as the heart and brain of Jasper. Lance used all scraps, umon and rare levelponents to construct Jasper.


    It only costs him around 800 units for the scrappedponents that formed its hardware. But the software and the data that he downloaded cost a fortune.


    Setting up was tedious. He had two monitors andputers on top of his fabrication table that conducted a lot ofputer run-downs, software calibration,patibility checkings, and even bug removals. He needed Jasper to be bug-free to provide reliable reports and data.


    He had a searing backache, and asional eye sore as the electronic parts instation were minute. Even though his fabrication table could magnify microscopic circuitries, he needed to see them with his magnifying ss to verify. Sometimes machineries needed calibration of its urateness from time to time, and he failed a calibration week cycle.


    "Jasper, test features," Lancemanded.


    "Copy, Master," Jasper said. "Thank you for the upgrades."


    The data logs loomed in Lance''s iris contacts, a small ss that covered his left while also serving a small disy monitor on whatever Jasper would show.


    ------------------------------------------------------


    [Units Avable] 3400 units


    [Rank] Mechanic Tier 1


    [Objectives ¨C priority] 100% on time and in full RoFlo production


    [Status] 60% production of production target


    [RoFlo Rarity] Rare Level


    [Current production Efficiency] 90%


    [Dys] 0


    [Raw Material wastages] 0.5%


    [Quality non-conformance] 0%


    ----------------------------------------------------


    Jasper could already conduct calctions based on historical data, algorithms, statistics, and other mathematical basis achieving his AI''s capacity even the unquantifiable ones.


    It was over a month, and at 60% production, he felt the sess of his RoFlo production projecting to fruition. Luckily for the past two weeks, negan stayed silent in his office, tending his other ten production lines.


    However, Lance anticipated another scheme working beneath the imperceptible. With his human intellectual capacity, he could determine a few options that negan could attack his production momentum, resulting to total failure.


    Brigz happily reported about their zero dys a week ago, even with his experience, he had never seen his team more robust and motivated in working on such a project. As he had shared a few times, almost redundant, expressing his appreciation towards the new TOR.


    However, on the other hand, negan was an experienced TOR and Supervisor, moreover, an Electrical Tier 3. Such a personality would not just let his embarrassment slide.


    With that notion, Lance sometimes was paranoid. He had this feeling of micromanaging the inspections, the equipment modifications, and even his constant conversation with the operators just to ease his disturbed thoughts.


    "Jasper, generate risks possibilities," Lancemanded.


    "Right away, Master," Jasper responded.


    -------------------------------------------------


    [a] Employee connivance ¨C 7% possibility


    [b] Equipment Breakdown ¨C 10% possibility


    [c] Prolonged power outage ¨C 0% possibility


    [d] Raw material unavability ¨C 20% possibility


    [e] Raw material bulk rejections ¨C 25% possibility


    [f] Lack of manpower - 17% possibility


    ----------------------------------------------------


    He prepared for the worst especially possibilities beyond his control ¨C the raw material production from otherpanies.


    Another day passed. Surprisingly, there were no mishaps. Did negan surrender his attempts to sabotage the RoFlo production?


    The way negan was embarrassed in front of many and his mentor, Doctor Zee, he would surely even the score. His ego had been tested and stomped on. But the question remained, when will the sabotage materialize?


    Two more days passed, no mishaps. Lance had been waiting for the moment, hence, he prepared for the worst.


    ----------------------------


    [Production Status] 70%


    ----------------------------


    Jasper had his monitoring every day, rming Lance of the unseen happenstance that might surprise them.


    Until, the production status was 80%, Brigz ran towards Lance, apany Opt on his right hand. It was two in the afternoon. Industries, especially therger ones, had licensed to have Opt units for ease ofmunication.


    "Boss, ording to Ultrasteel, they can''t provide the round casings for four days. That''s about five percent of our production target. We can''t make it in time, boss!" Brigz said hurriedly, the Opt was still active.


    "Who said that?" Lance asked.


    "Supervisor of Ultrasteel. Equipment breakdown, he said, that caused their dys. Do you want to talk to him, boss?"


    Brigz handed the Opt to him and left their hanging. Lance only nced at the active Opt.


    "No need, Brigz. It''s already expected. Let''s activate the alternative supplier."


    "We don''t have an alternative supplier, boss?"


    "Oh yes, we do. KroMagnon Steel from the West Sector."


    "We haven''t made arrangements yet, boss? They can''t even start production immediately and our dy would still be 5%."


    ''negan,'' Lance thought. It was his retaliation, probably convinced his buddies back at UltraSteel to dy raw material production. Equipment breakdown? Highly unlikely! It was an apparent sabotage, but subtle enough to prevent questions frompany executives. Four days dy?


    That''s an eptable error, however, Lance wanted the full price of themission.


    "It''s been forecasted, Brigz. Luckily, I have a guardian angel that helped me mitigate for these risks." Lance maintained his nonchnce. "I talked to Doctor Zee about it. The risk. I justified it to him and he agreed. He was even pleased.


    He endorsed me to the Supervisor of KroMagnon and made arrangements already. They already produced days ago the same casing quality. I have checked them, and it passed."


    "Should I call them, boss?"


    "Call KroMagnon. Look for J.Ryan, the supervisor. Tell him to activate transport right away. They have been producing for a week''s worth."


    Brigz immediately called KroMagnon through his Opt and conversed with J.Ryan. They had agreements as Lance already had the alternative supplier provided proper setup.


    ***


    "Master, it''s thest day of your project''s production. Congrattions. Your mitigating n worked." Jasper whispered as Lance watched his crew cleaning up equipment.


    They finished early on thest day. The crew talked about booze after five to the nearest and cheapest booze centers in Brasslot. Lance had wondered why the Booze Centers sprouted many sites in Commoner sectors, even though, the majority of the people strive for units just to buy groceries and not some liquor. Somehow, people, lowlifers, frequented such ces.


    ''Poor mindset.''


    Lance declined for reasons they already knew ¨C he is under aged and he could not squeeze it into his hectic schedule.


    He had been traumatized by Jonaz''s restaurant, the invasion of Synapz drug cloud into his senses, breaking down his rational thinking. Many had told him that such feelings, the drowsiness, the stupidity, the ragged walks, the heavy body, the headaches, hadmon effects of booze and drugs. However, the synapz drug tripled the effects.


    Who would want that feeling? Lance convinced himself that booze was not for him at his age.


    The elevator slid open and came in Mister negan. He sauntered across the crew, moving about the equipment after they cleaned it, and neverid eyes on them. He went directly to Lance.


    Unafraid of what would ensue, Lance just watched the emotionless Electrical Tier 3 Scientist.


    "Congrattions," negan extended a hand for a handshake, his voice was monotonous.


    Lance epted it and shook hands with him.


    "Thank you," Lance responded.


    "In behalf of Doctor Zee, he congrattes your performance and the team''s, 100% on-time and in full production of RoFlo. He already evaluated you in advance andmended your assertiveness, especially acquiring the alternative supplier, KroMagnon. If you check your ount, you will receive today thepletemission of an Excellent rating performance.


    Congrattions, once again," negan said almost monotonously. He turned his back and walked toward the elevator to where he came.


    "Master, yourmission has been added just now and some offerings," Jasper said.


    "How much?"


    "Fifteen thousand units!" Even Jasper was excited.


    "That much?"


    "Not only that, Master. You have other offerings from Doctor Zee Andradez."


    "Can you show me?"


    ----------------------------------------------


    Offerings:


    [1] Supervisory Position at three Semi-conductor Manufacturing Companies, including Kranian.


    [2] Sry offers of 2000 units to 3000 units depending on the task coverage.


    [3] Upgrade Mechanic Tier 2. Cost of 3000 units.


    ----------------------------------------------


    The offers were tempting. Supervisory position? He would not stain his hands anymore with the scrap grease when he scavenged.


    Two weeks have passed since he was caught by the police stealing in TechNova. His worry shifted to the rebels, hisrades, about a full sweep raid.


    He hurried his steps, celebration was unnecessary. Then, towards the Rebel camp.

 Chapter 83: Sidetrack: Force

    Damian


    Rebel Camps. Southern Wall underground


    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------


    ***


    Damian had a frequent frazzled feeling, the feeling of unease, of insecurity since Lance visited them. The rarest of times he had these feelings ever since he joined the rebel faction, and had grown into likeness to hisrades, to themunity, and even what they built inside the tunnels.


    The feeling gave him paranoia of some sort, checking his weapon so frequently ¨C the ammo inside the magazine, the safety switch, even he dismantled it as he cleaned and oiled theponents.


    ''If only these wereser guns, I don''t have to oil them.'' Damian grunted.


    Hisrades did the same, too. As soon as word had spread, a word about the Special Homnd Forces.


    Before, Erik Berkley assured them that thebyrinth underground the walls had no records in the Science Archives. If such records exist, it was not in the hands of the Corporation or the Government. The underground tunnel ns were a forgotten ess to the new world.


    These tunnels existed, made and designed by one of the Lost Engineers, as the old people rumored about, because of trading ess toward the city and to the outskirts, masking the risk of exposure from the Abominants.


    Since the walls were constructed, many believed that these tunnels ceased to exist, condemned. The old people said that even during the walls'' construction, spearheaded by one of the Lost Engineers. The best of all Civil Engineers, they say.


    However, that notion crumbled as Lance had told them about the Special Homnd Force, specially made to flush out their faction, his family, and his friends.


    His life.


    They lived in tents, but they considered them homes. The children yed along the concrete floors, even without ess to atmospheric air. They yed with the water droplets that came from the moisture of the water pipes above them and thought that it was rain. Damian considered himself lucky to have a life outside the confines of concrete bs.


    ''This is prison.'' He thought. But even so, they felt free. They felt they were fighting for their freedom.


    Such a newly formed group, the SHF, gave him gooseflesh. He was not sure why, exactly. He was a soldier and they were trained too. But maybe because the SHF could be a group that was off the books, away from GLD regtions, just like their Special Army Force way back his stint as a soldier.


    He spected that the Special Army Force during the war was not only established to battle against Abominants or hunt the hive for that matter because that was their objective as a soldier. No. The SAF was formed by the greed of politicians or those who are in power to gain control over the other surviving cities.


    Assassinations, if necessary. Off-the-books.


    The Governments of the surviving cities were secretly at war, the public had not known about it. But there were rumors floating inside the army that the surviving cities were strengthening their defenses for other government invasion. He dismissed the thought as it was preposterous. Humans should fight against Abominants, not against with each other. However, it was not the case.


    Humans tends to overextend their powers, feeding their selfish interests, wanting the necessity of control. Because of these rumors and had found to be true, Damian became a rebel.


    SAF or SHF, they were just the same. And they had special training, to be merciless and bloodthirsty. No regard for human life, even for theirrades. Mercenaries as some would say.


    In their Rebel ranks, they had soldiers. Around thirty of them. But the majority were children, women, and old people.


    "Damian, have you heard from our scouts?" Jefferson asked as he sneaked up on him.


    "No. Why?" Damian answered as they stood outside the door of therge tunnel junction room that held the rebelmunity. And in front of them was the straight and long stretch of the tunnel, with faint illumination and dark corners provided by the concrete foundations.


    "It''s been an hour, I haven''t got word," Jefferson said.


    "Who''s in charge of scout right now?" Damian asked.


    "Craig, and Topher."


    "Maybe they''re stuck on something? I know Craig, he smoked a lot, the E-cigs, and forgets to report back on time."


    "Stuck? I have strict instructions. I doubled the scout routestely after Lance told us about the SHF." Jefferson''s voice had a hint of worry. Damian did not answer. He chose not to, because maybe that feeling, scratching from within for an escape, was the feeling that the SHF now had invaded their secret location, nning for a strategic attack. Kill on sight without prejudice!


    Jefferson was a soldier, like Damian. But Jefferson was already old and probably much more fearful about the SHF because he also knew about the SAF.


    "SHF? Have you heard about them?"


    "Not yet. Just recently. I have heard rumors about three dead unidentified soldiers in the scrap yards. There were witnesses, I don''t know how it leaked." Damian said. "I think they were already mobilized."


    "Who killed the three? Are they at war with someone?"


    "Probably, the Mafia. I don''t know. Lance had been dealing with the Mafia for his Zelkian production, and they chose the scrapyards for a safe pick-up point. There should be a connection."


    "Yeah. Mafia? I think so. I hope that not one of our own who they are at war with."


    "They''re formed to flush us out. Lance was right, we had to evacuate. Our location seemed to be on a fine line right now. Any second, they can get to here without us knowing."


    "I don''t want to escape. I want to face them," Jefferson''s voice was deep and serious but sometimes irrational. Rarely, Jefferson gives irrational orders to the rebels especially if he was driven by emotion. Luckily, they had a Council that could counter his decisions. Even Jefferson had agreed that sometimes his emotions would dictate his rational thinking.


    And he voted too for the formation of the five council members.


    "Why? We will be outgunned, maybe outnumbered, and we have kids and women." Damian said.


    "We are already built somethin'' here. Somethin'' good. The merchants already knew our passages, the goods came in easily from the outside. We also had established protocols how to get the goods inside the city, easily. We even had our minischool, the council wanted to educate the children on the basics. The Samson''s even wanted their children to be Scientists.


    Seemed most of the children here wanted to be Lance. That kid, he''s bing something, isn''t he? We made progress here, years of hard work. We are making a living."


    "There won''t be a living if the SHF are here." Damian retorted.


    "You''re right." Jefferson sighed.


    "And what about the Council? What''s their say on this?" Damian asked. He checked his magazine again. It was almost a clockwork for him.


    "They finally agreed for hours of discussion."


    "But where?" Damian observed Jefferson had something hiding behind those eyes. The way they looked; they were empty. He felt Jefferson was way passive, as if untrained in situations like these. He knew Jefferson, he had worked with him for years. He knew that Jefferson was hiding something.


    "Erik prepared for this. He gave three more locations for our exodus."


    "Another tunnel junction room, I guess," Damian said.


    "A prison, outside the walls. Abandoned before the walls were made." Jefferson answered. He was unsure to himself if such a location was the most amenable decision. "No more tunnels for us, Damian. They can still locate us if we choose another tunnel."


    "Prison? Where?"


    "Fifteen miles, East. It''s a stronghold." Jefferson convinced Damian, but clearly, he convinced himself too.


    "What about our livelihood? Our smugglers? We can''t live without them,"


    "We maintain connections, Damian. Rebel representatives will still linger in these tunnels, in different locations to amodate the smugglers. We can still earn from that too."


    "What about Lance''s business?"


    "Lance harvested everything. Every nectar we produced, all twenty jars, he took them and paid. He said, we needed the poison bombs the most now that we are in the open." Jefferson answered.


    "His Zelkians?" Damian asked.


    "Yeah, that too. Lance arranged for his buyer for an early delivery. We will reestablish his farm again in our new home. Listen, Damian. Whatever happens, you must protect that kid! All right?


    At any cost. Protect him with your life. Even from me."


    "Huh? What do you mean?" Damian perturbed.


    Their conversation stopped as a silhouette figure appeared from the very end of the long stretch of the tunnel. One hundred fifty meters away from them. Quickly, Damian aimed at the moving silhouette. The shadow was jaggedly walking, bumping itself against the cavernous walls.


    "He''s injured. Who is it!" Damian shouted, his voice echoing inside the tunnel.


    "Don''t shoot. It''s Craig!" The man answered. His leg dragging against the concrete. Seemingly bloodied, as Damian assessed.


    "Craig? Hang in there, I aming for you!"


    "No! Don''te in here. You must run, Damian. All of you! They are here!"

 Chapter 84: Sidetrack: Timing

    Even though Craig warned them not toe, Damian dashed towards the injuredrade. Jefferson called out two guards rushing outside the junction¡¯s door to assist.


    They had anticipated, their arrival. But the timing was off.


    Way off.


    How did they know their location?


    Lance was maybe true about the traitor among their ranks, conspiring with the Government.


    Who? What would he gain from it? Money? It¡¯s always money for the likes of them.


    They could have prepared earlier, days earlier, and managed to relocate at least two days ago. It was enough time to prepare for a week¡¯s warning from Lance. Jefferson had been missing out on the matter of urgency.


    His ipetence had grown so unsubtly that even the Council hadined about it. He heard rumors.


    At the far end of the tunnel, on a sudden right corner echoed footfalls of boots snappily nearing towards them. Vague shadows moved on walls where his eyes could see.


    He estimated, ten or fifteen. He was not sure. It¡¯s just they move fast and light. They were highly trained.


    Damian carried Craig with thetter¡¯s arm over the former¡¯s neck and a limp leg still dragging on the floor.


    "Iing!" Damian cried out as they retreated to the rebel camp. Two rebel members had their guns pointed at the far end. Damian did not dare to look back but he knew their enemy now emerging f, from that corner. Then, bullets flew from hisrades towards the far end of the tunnel. Jefferson too, had his rifle engaged.


    It was so long ago that Jefferson used that rifle, a 57 mm caliber rifle, armor-piercing ammo, automatic rifle. He had cleaned it always, maybe a habit but never had the opportunity to use it before.


    He saw Jefferson waving at them with his left hand and screamed overpowering the guns, "Faster, Damian!"


    The rescuer¡¯s back was exposed to the enemy, and they were not far enough that the highly trained SHF would miss a shot. In war, there were no ns executed without encountering roadblocks, even their lives were not safe even if the ns were executed without predicaments.


    For him, it¡¯s about eighty percent luck that kept his life after war deployment.


    Damian had not seen any retaliation from their enemies. But they wille, definitely, when his tworades reload, their enemies¡¯ guns will ze fire and death.


    Luckily, he carried Craig back to safety behind the backs of hisrades and Jefferson¡¯s. They went inside behind their camp¡¯s metallic door. He saw people running in random directions, his brothers, hisrades. Mothers carried their children, retreating at the opposite end with heavy duffel bags on their shoulder.


    He saw Tony¡¯s family carrying their easy-foldable tents in both hands hurriedly running at the back with his wife and kids quickened their steps behind him. His kids just started their lessons with Elder Maria about basic science. They wanted to be scientists like Lance.


    Cecilia left her store with some of her merchandise still in the cupboards. They were canned goods, of course. They were heavy, so she decided to carry the lighter ones and leave the heavy ones. She just started her store as the demand dictated, and also the request came from various members of their faction. She invested 400 units for inventory, and everything now was all gone.


    And many other families hurried scurrying to the opposite side.


    Joe and George ran towards him with their rifles on their sides. He let down Craig to the floor, as thetter became heavier. He felt like every wisp of Craig¡¯s energy escaped him. As hey down Craig, back against the floor, blood profusely flowed out from thetter¡¯s mouth. He could not speak. Damian called his name, but he did not respond only a cold and dark stare.


    He did not say a single word towards Damian but his eyes had various meanings, probably of despair or hatred.


    They had a living, but they weren¡¯t actually living. They formed the rebel faction to acquire an ideal life, even though it was impossible, or years in the making. At least, they made a difference, they stood for what is right and fought for the oppression of the Government and the Corporation.


    Joe and George hovered over him calling Craig¡¯s name. But his eyes were already nk, staring beyond hisrades, streaking through them and towards the ceiling. He was lifeless. George tried CPR but Damian knew it was toote. He knew a dead man when he sees one.


    Jefferson hurried inside and closed the metallic door.


    "Let¡¯s move!" He screamed.


    "What about the others?" Damian asked.


    "They are gone. We can¡¯tpete with their weapons," Jefferson said. "They wille in through this door but we have to give our people time to escape."


    "How many?" Joe asked.


    "Only fifteen or Twenty. I am not sure." Jefferson answered. "Let¡¯s make a pincer defense, focus our firepower into this door. Let¡¯s spread our forces out. How many present, George?"


    "There are thirty of our men who have weapons. The others are deployed outside for supplies."


    "The timing!" Jefferson grunted. "I told the council to retract the routine immediately."


    "There is nothing we can do, boss. We have to pin them down here." Damian said. "We need more time. Precious time!"


    Hurriedly, the armed rebel men, thirty of them spread out strategically on the corners of the maintenance deck, three thousand square meters of it still held the remnants of themunity once they called home. Now it was already in ruins.


    They ducked behindrge supply crates,rge bins, and a pile of scraps and all their weapons aimed at the door that separated them from the SHF.


    "They need to cross the tunnels 25B, and 26C, and they are good to go. Our objective is to give them as much time as possible so that our people can escape." Jefferson said among the thirty nervous men.


    "Remember, they are using high-tech weaponry. Allsers. And we use bullets. We can¡¯t outgun them and they are highly trained killers. So, we will do our best, protect yourselves, and don¡¯t waste your ammo!" Jefferson added.


    The rebel men responded. For years inside the water pipe junction deck, never had once they feared being located by the authorities. What had gone wrong?


    These questions flooded Damian¡¯s mind.


    There were seven crouching beside him, on the southwest side of the wall, and Jefferson and his bunch on the opposite side.


    To Damian¡¯s side, a neen-year-oldbatant, named Flint, had sweaty hands. He always does. The rifle always slipped from his sweaty palms, causing his aim to be distracted. He had a sister, his only family left had maybe fled together with the others. And next to him had almost the same story as everyone else. Young and nervous.


    Explosion!


    The door cracked by a ballistic short-range detonator that could tear thick metal ting with its st. The door was torn apart, flown five meters inside the room and the st doubled the entrance¡¯s size, torn a half meter from the door jamb. It startled the ambush party and as the dust settled, no SHF invaded their space.


    Metallic spheres were thrown from the outside and rolled inside the clearing of the room. Four of them.


    "Spike bombs!" Damian shouted. "Take cover!" He knew the forms of those bombs. They used it during the war against Abominants.


    The spheres exploded but only a short radial kic energy was released, however, shooting metallic nails randomly like bullets filling the room.


    Three of Damian¡¯srades were impaled by the metallic nails. It went through the piled scraps that they hid behind. One hit directly to his neck, the other two on their chest and forehead. They died instantly with their eyes wide open. Luckily, for Damian, he hid behind stronger metallic scraps.


    Flint cried their names, the names of his deadrades, as he curved down to the nearest dead body. Damian grasped Flint¡¯s shoulder and screamed, even though his senses were distorted, "Pull yourself together, dammit!"


    If they had spike bombs, if one would be weapon strategic, they would use smoke bombs to conceal their entry, a perfect timing for detonation during their enemies disarmed.


    The screams came of the wounded from all ces in the room. Damian heard Jefferson screamed the word "Recover."


    The smoke came as another set of bombs detonated. White milky smoke filled the room for less than five seconds, all three thousand square meters. Silhouettes of the SHF personnel invaded so fast, with cat-like speed. Damian squeezed the trigger to the shadowy figures that moved inside. The others followed suit, their guns aiming loosely at the white cloud, and emptied their magazines.


    Then there was silence. The milky cloud slowly dissipated and gradually reemerged the environment. No dead SHF operatives were lying in the ground. Bullet marks heaved the walls, the floors, and the metallic pipes, but not a single body had beenpromised.


    "Reload!" Jefferson said.


    And thesers came from random sources, decimating their covers and killing theirrades. Lasers devasted their hidden spots, exposing the rebels behind them. They retaliated to the well-hidden, ck-d operatives. Damian saw one die, a direct hit to his head. However, it does not discourage their pursuing enemies


    Damian saw the others crawl to a safe exit. He followed suit while thesers flew past them. Jefferson threw Electric stun bombs causing thesers a momentarily halt.


    Then there was silence.

 Chapter 85: Sidtrack: Escape

    Damian.


    Rebel Camp, Southern Wall, Axe Central City


    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Thesers were diverted to someone else. They were caught by surprise. The other SHF soldiers were still oblivious of an attack from their rears, which gave the attacker ease.


    The individual single-handedly dmissioned SHF personnel, one by one. Fifteen operatives, highly trained. Damian was not sure who, it was dark and fast. The man in a hooded cape moved in the shadows.


    He threw one man to the wall, and although he was wounded with somesers chafed his back, and burning his cape, the man was never discouraged.


    Limbs and necks were broken. Seemed to be this man adept at killing his enemy by breaking their necks. Although, the man helped them, however, the sight gave him a cold sting to his bones.


    Something was familiar with the man. He was a man, but not a man entirely. How could a man, even with the utmost skill and training, could throw people onto walls? Andsers were only of little hindrance.


    A golden opportunity arose, Damian dragged his woundedrades toward the exit. Othersy dead by thesers. He left them. He could not carry them all. Jefferson crutch carried the wounded with the help of able rebels. Thesers were silenced and were reced by screams and shouts and the cracking of bones,rge thuds against body to wall.


    Horrifying to even gawk at the scene.


    ¡¯No such man!¡¯ Damian thought. ¡¯No such man can do that.¡¯


    He counted the men that exited the formerly known rebel camp. There were only ten of them, three were injured, the others died during the skirmish, all twenty in just less than three minutes.


    Joe and George survived and luckily, only a few scratches from the sharp scraps they crouched behind.


    They outnumbered the SHF however, he did not expect to reach this number of casualties in just so little time.


    They pressed on as fast as they could inside the tunnels towards the exit, three of them bloodied, and one has almost half dead and was carried by two of hisrades. The mysterious man in a dark hood and gas mask gave them ample time to recuperate.


    The SHF were now silenced, no moremotion inside the room. Something had told Damian that the mystery man was not their ally. In his gut, somehow convinced him that such man was a half-breed Abominant.


    However, his features were that of a man but his strength and movement say otherwise.


    After a moment of running further inside the tunnels, they reached a crossroad. Before they turned their direction, Damian looked back at the far end to where his eyes permitted him to see, the lights above flickered for an unknown reason. Probably, thesers had somehow distorted the electrical lines.


    He had two poison bombs that they carried with them as Lance had provided him for his external exploits outside the wall. Damian activated them and threw way back to where they came from.


    He had a gut feeling that what he did was right. It was an Abominant, he convinced himself. Jefferson did not talk about it, probably overwhelmed with their escape and concerned with the hundreds of theirrades now heading outside the walls.


    Jefferson told the group that preparations were made for them to transfer to the prison. It had its own generator, diesel-powered, old school, but what was important was the prison¡¯s self-filtration system. And the fortified walls and fences that would protect them from Abominant attacks.


    The blue cloud covered the expanse of the portcullis of the cave, hopefully to the premise of impeding the iing danger. Secondly, the blue cloud would obscure to where they went.


    "Hang in there, Flint." It was hisrade who was badly wounded as they crawled for an escape. Theser burned his thigh, prating against his jeans. A charred skin surrounded the golden-brown flesh.


    "I will be drinkin¡¯ booze after this," Flint said, his exasperation muffled his words.


    "Damian, watch our backs. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s in there, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s not human. We should head out to the sewer entry for a shortcut,"


    "Sewers? We have wounded, boss!" Damian retorted.


    "We can¡¯t outrun that thing there. But it won¡¯t expect us going inside the sewers."


    Damian saw their faces, even with their disgusted expression thinking about the sewers, somehow, they agreed to Jefferson. Jefferson was right, his survival instincts as a soldier somehow were triggered.


    An inconspicuous hatch was located at an immediate small corner connected to the sewers. It would take them a level below and they had to submerge their lower extremities, belly high.


    Damian opened the hatch, battling against rust, after he made sure that no one was after them in sight. Ten of them, including the wounded submerged on a dark horrendous flowing water.


    The water was cold and an awful warm temperature sometimes hugged their bodies.


    One of them vomited as the appalling smell invaded their nostrils. The tunnels had dim lights, spaced equally just to give faint illumination These tunnels were not maintained for years, or maybe a decade, and the lights were not augmented since it was constructed. Especially, the sewers.


    They slowly walked against a soft current of liquid waste and the smell got even worse every time they pressed on.


    "How can we get out without detection? We are hundreds of people going out of the walls," Damian asked Jefferson who was ahead of them.


    "I made arrangements. I made a diversion on the eastern wall to divert police units." Jefferson answered.


    "What kind of diversion?" Damian asked.


    "Sabotage. Short-circuiting stuff. You know, just like the old days." Jefferson grunted as he dragged one injuredrade with him.


    "Target?"


    "Morrison Robotics. East Sector."


    It was apany that was contracted by the Government to manufacture police robots.


    Why attack police robot manufacturers? Damian had little or vague idea.


    What he knew from the rumors of several faction members differed from each other.


    One Chapter Head said, the most sound of all rumors, that to weaken the police force of the Government and send them a message that the Rebels were getting stronger. Moreover, easy for the rebels to maintain illegal operations in and out of the walls.


    One Rebel Runner said that Jefferson and his trusted soldiers were stealing police robotic and weapon designs. They want to manufacture it. Also, a near probability, but more dangerous to think of the agenda.


    Damian had a lot of sewage stealth crawls during his deployment days as they moved in tunnels to avoid detection. Sewage tunnels were the best ce to hide from the Abominants as fecal wastes masked human smell. However, he hated it the most. He was more inclined to contaminated air face-to-face firefighting.


    Finally, after thirty minutes of sewage swimming, they came rolling from a small portcullis where liquid sewage flowed out into old storm drains that supposedly connected to the seas. Their bodies were soaked in a shallow sump pit.


    They built these storm drains underground, miles and miles from the city and towards the main wastewater facilities before they reached a body of water.


    They had their masks on.


    "We better get going," Jefferson said as they let themselves out from the pit.


    Damian and hisrades were exhausted, their breathing was more perceptible against the nose channel of their gas masks. A few were bent on their knees, trying to recuperate from aborious and appalling swim.


    "Probably word had reached already the SHF headquarters. They are gonna send more units."


    "And that man, too. It¡¯s an Abominant." Damian said as he reloaded his handgun. He left his rifle while he carried one wounded rebel.


    "Are you sure?" Jefferson asked.


    "Yes. I am sure of it. It¡¯s not human to eliminate fifteen assassins that easily and without a weapon." Damian said and Jefferson nodded.


    "Axe will be doomed," Jefferson said.


    "Why?"


    "If he¡¯s what you say he is. Then he will know the passage in and out of the city." Jefferson said.


    They had long stares. Even their restingrades were horrified by the notion.


    "What are we going to do? Are we going to kill that man?" Joe said.


    "We can¡¯t kill him. We can¡¯t risk going back. The SHF might have recuperated by now. Let¡¯s just hope that he got lost in the maze." Jefferson said.


    "I am not banking on that. I have to go back. I have to warn Lance." Damian said as he started to turn back towards the sump pit.


    "No. He already knows." Jefferson said.


    "How?" George asked.


    "The News. I am sure by now that the sabotage of Morrison Robotics will hit the mainstream. And if Lance watched the news, well he always does, he knew by now that we are attacked and started our escape." Jefferson responded.


    "Does he know where to find us?" George asked. His expression was clearly concerned with the kid. Joe too.


    "Yes. He knows. I gave him coordinates."

 Chapter 86: Sidetrack: Detour

    Damian.


    ***


    It was nighttime.


    Two dark green jeeps, all-terrain wheels, diesel-powered, and with no ss windows, even windshields, roared on the expanse of the lifeless desert floor. Gray overcast darkened further away from the reach of the city lights and the walls became dark silhouettes. They felt safe now. Of what had transpired, the concept of walls gave them an air of hostility.


    However, they had been silent for almost an hour as they reminisced about their deadrades back at the base. All twenty dead, cold, and instant.


    The stink though still permeated the air. Their garbs, pants, and even weapons had been submerged into unimaginable streams of shit, urine, and water.


    Luckily, the other rebel members managed to leave them with two functional jeeps to their modified underground parking space outside the Southern wall. The Caretaker was thoughtful sometimes, despite his grunting, mumbling, and cursing, whenever he slides down the engine of their trucks, oil spilling on his arms and his coveralls, and grease all over his hands and face.


    He always had a bad day, to some, it was a mystery.


    But Damian knew the reason why the Caretaker hated his job so much. He tends to the vehicles with utmost care and intricate passion but the drivers drove the vehicles with utmost carelessness. He would say that the drivers seemed to be ragged against the rocky terrain, just pushing the pedal down despite the wavy desert floor. It would stress the bearings and challenged the chassis, he would mutter.


    However, Damian knew that what they''re driving were the pending preventive-maintenance jeeps. They were bound to break down along the way. Even so, Damian was still hopeful. A fifteen-mile drive would only take them around ten minutes tops with a moderate and safe speed. The roads tend to be challenging way Eastern, and flooring the elerator pedal would give the vehicles a bigger problem.


    They passed the Boneyard outskirt after three minutes. They decelerated but not to a point below thirty miles per hour. It was the outskirts, and Abominants probably had nestled within central area of the Boneyard.


    Even so, the uncertainty of risk was still high.


    When his Specialist sideline activated and tasked to drive people outside the wall and take them to ces, Damian had been exploring the routes surrounding the city, the majority southward. Mostly, people would ask for assistance in smuggling, as they needed some expert in navigating the way to Axiom Trench.


    Ever since the Obsidian scorpion, Damian rerouted to a farther course, avoiding the center of the Boneyard by encircling to its outskirts, making another half hour more to reach Trench Hill.


    More people came to him ever since Lance had his illegal exploits of Tyllrium trade from Axiom Trench. He would say that his business was booming, thanks to that kid.


    Although the Outsiders had cleared up the smuggling routes by ughtering all Abominants in the area, even the level ones, however, these Abominants migrated so frequently for an unknown reason. Probably when the winds were strong, ushering the volume of air contamination to move to ces, the Abominants would follow. That''s the nearest theory that people believed.


    Damian did not fear the presence of Abominants. However, the Demetrian season was approaching - a month prior. Therefore, the Abominant''s activity would be more erratic and unpredictable. A lot stronger and crazier in that sense.


    And the said season would increase wind velocities that came from the North and East. Now, Damian felt the wind was blowing against them, which he feared the most. Probably, the level ones would follow the wind''s direction and would intercept their route. It would be unfortunate, furthermore, their vehicles were no condition to outrun the groundlings.


    At least somehow, in that particr moment, Damian felt safe away from the grasp of a pursuing unknown.


    "Hang on Flint," It was Joe who applied pressure on Flint''s wounded thigh with both hands as they were seated in the rear passenger seat.


    "Don''t worry about me, boys. I''m fine," Flint''s voice gargled with slight blood, perceptible even behind his gas mask.


    A wheezing torturing breath came from the other woundedrade also at the back seat. Luckily, no significant wound could be seen from him.


    "Damian, the winds!" George said from the front passenger seat.


    "I hate the odds. We have to change the route. I will lead the way. The other jeep will follow."


    Immediately, George signaled with his hand to the other jeep. He whirled a finger on the air that Jefferson could see. After a vast bends of tnds, they entered a sloping road popted by dead trees on the side.


    "Where are we headin''?"


    "Gerald''s View Subdivision," Damian answered.


    "What? How far is it?"


    "Five miles from here, North." Damian took a sharp left turn on a narrow road heading to a gradual downward steep.


    "The Outsiders had not cleansed the area yet."


    "I know but this is our best chance. We can stay for the night there. I am not liking the winds. Probably, Jefferson knew it too and would agree to let the night pass." Damian said and George nodded.


    "Joe, check your ammo," George said as he squinted on his back.


    "Five mags," Joe answered.


    "Do you have poison bombs?" Damian asked.


    "Yes, I have three," George answered. "What do you think is waiting for us there?"


    Damian consumed two of his when they escaped inside the tunnels. An uncleaned area would mean that Abominants might have made the ce a habitat. Mostly, Abominated dogs, called groundlings, as they breed faster, or Rattus as they loved abandoned houses. But what the outsiders hated the most when they cleaned up abandoned viges like Gerald''s View were the Abominated bats.


    They liked to hide under roofs during nighttime and were aggressive for human flesh.


    "I don''t know, George. I guess''ll find out," Damian answered.


    After a few minutes of downward steep, they reached the ins again, and the number of dead trees receded. They reached a concrete highway but unsmoothed still because of the heaving dust that was carried by the wind over time.


    "How do you know this ce?" George asked.


    "This route is connected to Bay City. This highway, about forty miles from here, is the boundary. This was used to be a trade route for transporting goods of inter-city merchandise. After my deployment, I had odd jobs, like being a driver in one instance, connected to apany, Carry-All, if you have heard of it. So, I drove this route a few times, transporting legal merch."


    "When transport trucks would reach nighttime, we detoured towards the former glorious Gerald''s View." Damian continued.


    "What about the Abominants?"


    "Mercs, ex-soldiers, were deployed to clean the area for years. And ever since the fall of Bay City, nobody maintained that ce any longer. So, let''s expect some minor encounters."


    After a few more minutes, they decelerated from the highway and turned towards a stone-walled fence, beaten by the Nuclear st decades ago. Looking from the outside, they saw white-washed structures of the same beaten condition, rubbles all over, and roofs became rust scraps for some, and others were roofless.


    Most of the time, they don''t name ces like this, they just call it an abandoned vige. This was an exception, they called it Gerald''s View, because of the untouched embossed brass letters, butcking of letter ''E'' of the word ''view'', installed at the side of the torn metallic gate. One could still read it even from afar.


    Their jeeps pressed on through the dpidated fence and into a concrete road that separated the once glorious houses. Carefully, Damian''s jeep first entered followed by Jefferson''s. Although it was dark, yet, the houses were still perceptible even a few blocks from their vantage points because of their sizes.


    "Housing for the rich fuckers," It was Flint who grunted then he coughed. The wheezing fellow beside him seemed to have woken up from his rest and cursed too.


    "Yeah, can''t imagine living in this big of a house," George replied.


    "Can''t imagine the life before. These houses cost a fortune. Probably a few twenty million units each."


    "Try fifty!" Their wheezing friend interjected. His name was Cordopio, the weird name probably came from his roots, but hisrades called him Cors.


    "Shhh. Shut up, all of you." Damian said. "This ce seems inhabited but Abominants probably nestled inside these houses. I suggest that we load our weapons and keep our mouths shut."


    They hurriedly followed Damian and there was silence once again. They went deeper into the subdivision and chose a smaller house that had remained the integrity of its walls or what was left of it. It was the same ce Damian and his colleagues rested, still holding the house''s walls almost precariously looking. But it was the best choicepared to others.


    They parked their jeeps along the road and disembarked carefully. They sauntered along a narrow-cobbled pathway toward the house making a strategic military line.


    "What are we expecting inside?" Jefferson asked as he followed Damian''s back.


    "Bats, probably," Damian answered. They had rifles with them, engaged in any surprise attacks.

 Chapter 87: Sidetrack: Crawl

    Damian.


    Gerald''s View Subdivision, Axe Central City Borders


    -----------------------------------------------------------------------


    The doorless house was two floors up, about six hundred square meters in floor area, with concrete floors, walls, ceilings, high vertical windows on each side, supposedly filled with transparent ss, and bathed with various forms of destruction.


    They went inside all ten of them. Damian''s shlight scanned on the ceiling where bats supposedly hide. But it was nighttime, probably they went out for a hunt, he thought.


    The beams of their shlights gleamed through floating particles of dust. There was asional furniture inside but what was left were the destroyed ones. A coffee table, wood-carved, was turned upside down on the other end, and an asional bench with iplete legs on one corner.


    All functional furniture were stolen by citizens, or the Outsiders and what was left were the remnants of the past before the Nuclear World War. Not to mention the heaving cobwebs mantled the floor''s entirety, thick threaded strandsprised these cobwebs.


    "Do you see bats?" Jefferson asked as he let his team spread out inside the first floor. The wounded were led down to a wall, Joe strapped a cloth to Flint''s bleeding thigh. The third one wrapped his sprained ankle with an stic bandage and covered his bleeding head with a strip of cloth. George looked out outside through the door they went into.


    "No bats in here, boss," Damian answered.


    "How do you know?"


    "No feces on the floor. Bats tend to shit a lot and it will show on the floors. Piles of them. So, I think we are good."


    "We need to be sure. Let''s check the second floor," Jefferson asked the other two able bodies up the stairs. "Damian, you have been here before, so take the lead."


    Damian agreed and carefully ambled to the stairs with two rebelrades following him. Jefferson stayed with the wounded on the first floor. George still scouting the external grounds for any apparent danger with his night vision scope.


    As the scouting team arrived at the second floor, onerade asked, "These bats. Are they really that scary?" He was in his mid-twenties, named by many by his family name ¨C Dudley. Damian had forgotten his first name.


    "I don''t know about you, but they scare the shit outta me. Their wing spans are about one and a half meter long, fangs taller than your fingers, and ws like eagle on their feet. And they will swarm you like you are a Christmas buffet; they will eat your flesh in seconds, leaving your bones shiny."


    "Shit. Really. I mean, we have to make sure this house is bat-free," Dudley responded.


    They entered the doorless rooms, five of them, connected to a wide alleyway, for any evidence of Abominant. Luckily there was none. Only a mantle of dust,rge wall cracks, concrete debris on the floor, and serious amount of cobwebs.


    "Just like we left it," Damian sighed after scouring every inch of the second floor.


    They went down the stairs and saw Jefferson, George, and one otherrade, lift the wooden furniture and pile them on the entrance door. Joe took out some mefenamic capsules from his knapsack and gave it to the three wounded men.


    Joe wanted the idea of bing a medic, he had been telling Damian and George about it. Maybe it was innate in him like he tended the farm too. The idea of it, growing something, or healing something, somehow had found his passion.


    Joe took out his vital scanner from his bag. It was like a handgun with a trigger button and its rear had a digital disy screen. On its nozzle was aser sensor to register the scanned human body''s condition.


    He scanned them one by one. The scanner would identify any hidden wounds, contusions, bruises, and even fever.


    "Finish sweeping, boss. I think we''re fine." Damian said.


    "We settled here for the night. And men, if you have not noticed, change your damn clothes if you have extras. We are soaked with shit." Jefferson said.


    Unfortunately, not one of them had brought extra clothes.


    Damian checked his holographic watch on his wrist. It said 2200 H. Eight hours of sleep was sufficient to recuperate their strengths and let the wounded rest and heal.


    "Gather around, let''s check inventory," Jeffersonmanded.


    The able bodies gathered all seven of them at the center of the living room. Damian dusted off the top of the coffee table as they encircled it.


    Each one of them took out their weapons holstered in their bodies, including knives, and the contents of their backpacks. Joe took the weapons of the wounded, too, and brought it together on the coffee table.


    "First of all, you smell like¡­" Jefferson said and everyone chuckled softly.


    "So, we have here three automatic rifles, ten handguns, seven extra rifle mags, forty handgun mags, two poison bombs, two electric stun bombs, ten hunting knives, ten MREs, some meds, and some TEUs." Jefferson counted all the items on the coffee table with his shlight.


    "Because of our detour, we move early tomorrow at six and reach the prison before noon." Jefferson continued. "We make a fort here if Abominants are attracted to our smell."


    "I think we are on a clear, boss," George said. "Our smell right now masks any human smell that we have."


    "He''s right," Damian interjected. "But our smell will wear off for a few hours. That''s when we will have a problem. This ce is not yet cleaned by the Outsiders. Let''s hope that no creature nested here."


    "Yeah, when that happens, let''s conserve our ammo. We have to be prepared in the morning."


    Everyone nodded.


    "We have to take turns every four hours, somebody would watch the door for any danger outside," Jefferson added. He chose George and three others to do guard duty first while the fortunate others would sleep for four hours.


    Damian was used to sleeping on cold concrete as they used to hide in tunnels when they were deployed. Hence, sleeping in an empty dusty house was an upgrade. He was worried about hisrades who had never been to wars and were used to sleepingfortably with nkets and pillows.


    Apparently, nobody cared about how they slept. As long as they could rest their eyes, then it was a small victory for them.


    Jefferson lowered himself near the staircase, his back leaning against the wall with his rifle on his side. Likewise, Damian had his rifle beside him, too. Soldiers do not leave their weapons beyond their reach during an active war.


    Eventually, because each of them possessed an appalling smell, hence, they slept in far corners. While George and three others heaved the barricaded doorless entrance with their rifles on them.


    Then, there was total darkness as Jefferson ordered all shlights to turn off. A faint grayish and dusty light shyly made its way through the barricaded vertical windows.


    The carrying, the running, even the driving, had caused Damian to exhaust his energy, making him sleep almost instantly. Then he slept. Finally.


    ***


    The banging of furniture had waked Damian. It was still pitch ck. There was a soft ruckus, ominous sudden sounds emerged then total silence again, then appearing once again. Murmurs grew from hisrades, unseen by their naked eyes.


    Damian was worried about the sound, a horrendous clicking sound of bones or teeth came from up the ceiling. A sudden thud ofrge mass surprised everyone and the beams of shlights were turned on, randomly looking for the sound''s source. Damian hurriedly found his hands on his rifle beside him.


    ''This is not good,'' Damian thought. He maintained his silence. Something, his instincts maybe, urged him to remain silent.


    The shlights beamed an oozing viscous translucent liquid dripping from the ceiling. The beams of their shlights followed to where the liquid came from. Nobody said a word at first until their shlight gleamed toward a gigantic grotesque hybrid of a spider and a moth, mounted its eight legs against the corner of the wall that meets the ceiling.


    Its back holding the moth''s brown translucent wings. Its legs had yellowish fur that would make any skin crawl, and below its six eyes gleamed a mouth full of fangs.


    Below its pointy and elongated spinneret, hanging like a white bag was wrapped in thick milky cloth-like web. It was human.

 Chapter 88: Sidetrack: Ungolian

    Damian.


    Gerald¡¯s View, Axe Central City Borders


    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    ¡¯God. A level 3 Abominant,¡¯ Damian thought, not uttering any word. The web-wrapped human had be its meal. Somewhat like an exoskeleton tube emerging from its mouth and buried into the human¡¯s head, sucking its brains out. Transparent viscous liquid oozed out from that exoskeleton tube, dripping on the ground.


    "What is that?" It was Cors who screamed still lying against the wall. He uttered the first sound.


    The Abominant jumped from where it mounted andnded on a rattledrade, immediately devouring his head instantly with the creature¡¯s fangs. Beside him was Flint but had not moved a muscle, shocked with his mouth agape and eyes wide. All shlight beams followed the Abominant spider, then Jefferson squeezed his rifle, and bullets hit the spider¡¯s back, tearing its moth wings.


    Damian shifted his shlight to George who supposedly guarded their sleep. However, Georgey unconscious on the floor, and two others, who had the same condition, that supposedly on guard duty. They were stone-cold unconscious, paled skin, and perceptible veins along their necks.


    The spider squirmed as ck blood oozed from its body. The creature growled in utter pain, waves of perceptible sounds emanated from its enormous mouth. The shrieks echoed within the confines of the dpidated house, reaching the entirety of Gerald¡¯s View.


    Damian quickened his stance and changed his rifle mode to automatic. He squeezed the trigger too, but the spider escaped from the grasp of their shlights, now cowering behind dark corners and its location concealed on the dark-mantled ceiling. Beams of shlight randomly aiming at every dark corner, revealing possible hiding ces of the Abominant.


    There were asional shrieks but its sharpness, reverberating against the walls, deceived them. Probably it was its special ability, hiding, and deceiving its enemy by its sharp shrieks.


    "Damian, the poison bombs, quick!" Jefferson said. Suddenly, a string of webs caught Jefferson by his shin and immediately he was pulled upward melting into absolute darkness. Damian and the others followed Jefferson with the beams of their shlights and was seen hanging upside down about by the ceiling, with the salivating creature a meter high from him. His rifle fell to the floor.


    "Don¡¯t shoot! You¡¯ll hit him," Damian said to hisrades.


    The creature started to turn his prey to wrap Jefferson for his second victim, however, the rebel leader took out his knife and shed the string of web that caught his shin and eventually, he fell a three-meter drop. His body collided with the concrete and made the rebel leader unconscious, his chest kissing the floor.


    It was the opportune time for the others to squeeze the triggers of whatever weapon they held on.


    All hitting their marks, ck ooze raining from up above, bathing the unconscious body of their leader below it. The spider skittled away from their aims, its ck body perfectly camouging with the dark environment. Then there was silence, but a faint wheezing of the wounded creature remained perceptible. Even its wheezing could mask its location.


    Its voice had threeyers of sound waves, if when it screamed or growled or shrieked, three simultaneous voices of obvious differentiation could be heard. With that skill, it could mask its location.


    Damian started to activate the poison bomb with one click, another click would detonate it in five seconds. However, just by detonating it at the center of the ground probably won¡¯t effectively kill the Abominant granting the room¡¯s high ceiling, and vertical windows, causing the blue mist to escape.


    He decided to wait. The creature¡¯s noise won¡¯t deceive him any longer. As for hisrades, they weren¡¯t trigger-happy as Jefferson instructed. They had to conserve their ammo for tomorrow¡¯s travel.


    After a few moments of silence, Joe ran towards Cor¡¯s body, trying for any form of revival, a syringe in his right hand. His footfalls were making a sound as he dashed.


    "No, Joe!" Damian shouted. As expected, Joe would tend to the wounded and the sick, as his newfound passion emanated foolishly once again.


    As Joe crossed the center of the room, the creaturended in front of him, obstructing his path toward Cors. Immediately, the creature¡¯s forward legs purposefully staking Joe. Luckily, to Joe¡¯s surprise and utter fear, he jumped on his side, rolling so ineptly, however, evading the fast-staking legs of the spider by a scant inch.


    Others squeezed their trigger while Joe emaciated on the ground, his hands covering his ears. The grotesque face of the creature widened its mouth, showing its inner teeth and an exoskeleton tongue mounted for another meal. Its wings pped hard, creating strong winds, heaving the space with foggy dust, and eventually deflecting the iing bullets.


    Some of the bullets ricocheted against the walls, nearly hitting Damian by a foot.


    Before Joe became its second carcass, the poison bomb detonated just below the spider¡¯s belly and blue mist invaded the space. As the use of guns presented danger, Damian decided to activate the poison bomb and rolled it below the creature.


    The spider shrieked again as the powdered nectar burned its abominated flesh. Reactively, driving the creature to a mad escape, and nimbly ran outside through the eastside window. Then it flew, wings pping evidently with painful effort.


    The room filled with exasperated soldiers. Damian hauled himself up and went to Jefferson.


    "Is it done?" Joe recuperated from his curling and searched for his shlight, hands reaching outwardly. Assertively, he quickly crawled towards the bloodiedrade leaning against the wall right after his hand fell on the shlight.


    "No. No. Cors!" Joe cried as witnessing hisrade with the foreskin of his face removed, exposing bulging eyeballs, and a perfectly lined set of teeth. Blood bathed his neck and to his chest. He was done.


    After his sobs, Joe recuperated himself, then shifted his attention towards George whoy unconscious still on the floor. "They¡¯re alive!" Joe announced. "But I did not see Flint and Dudley."


    "Look for them, Joe. One of them is hanging right above us and one of them was yet to be found." Damian said as he helped Jefferson to his feet.


    "I think I found Dudley," the other rebel operative said as the beam of his shlight fell on an amputated forearm still attached to its hand, but the rest of it was nowhere to be found.


    "That fucker!" Jefferson said, angered by the thought of his deadrades.


    Although Damian had good memories with hisrades, Dudley, Flint, and Cors. They all had families waiting for them to where they settled next. They joined the rebel faction in the hope of reforming the city for fair governance. He remembered that Flint used to collect Rattus for Joe¡¯s Zelkian farm and earned a decent living from it.


    Dudley did not care if he was being bullied by other ex-soldiers for the way he talked. There was a reason Dudley was called by his family name, and not by his first name. The day won¡¯te to answer that mystery. Cors sometimes assisted him in Tyllrium hauling from the Axiom Trench, not consistently, because of the premise of earning extra money. Although, Cors hated the idea of facing Abominants.


    It was best to suppress his negative emotions and help his aliverades recover.


    ¡¯I just wanna get outa here,¡¯ He thought.


    "How do you know it¡¯s him?" Damian asked, groaning to settle Jefferson to a chair.


    "The tattoo on his forearm." The rebel responded. "God, this is horrifying." Theirrade said as he found Dudley¡¯s body remnants scattered all over the floor.


    Damian checked his hologram watch.


    0230 H


    ¡¯So much for rest.¡¯ He muttered in his thought.


    "We can¡¯t stay here. That Abominant will be back for sure," Damian said. Joe administered something via intramuscr injection to Jefferson and somehow, thetter recovered his senses.


    "Thanks," Jefferson said to Joe. "What about George and the others?"


    "I gave them Epipen for their allergic attacks."


    "What happened to them?"


    "Probably, the spider has a venom that gives the victim temporary paralysis. That¡¯s what happened to them."


    "That Abominant is a level 3, Blind Ungoliant. It has six eyes but they can¡¯t see. They use their heightened hearing to devour their prey. Probably, George and the others made sounds that attracted the Ungoliant." Damian exined as he gathered the weapons from his deadrades.


    But before he collected their weapons and MREs in their backpacks, Damian whispered a message unto them, "See you in the next life, brother."


    "Damian is right. We have to move. It wille back soon and we can¡¯t defend ourselves by seven of us and three are in paralysis." Jefferson suggested, his voice still garbled by the fall.


    "Off to prison then," Joe said.


    They carried their unconsciousrades and went into their jeeps. Joe insisted to drive the other vehicle but it was immediately dismissed by Jefferson.


    "You are in no condition!" Damian said.


    "What do you think of me? A useless old man?" Jefferson hissed.

 Chapter 89: Sidetrack: Cannibals

    Damian.


    Two miles away from Gerald¡¯s View. Axe Central Outskirt Borders.


    -----------------------------------------------------------------------


    Damian did not know if he would praise Jefferson for being brave enough to drive even with his condition. His fall was high, three meters, and could have at least attained major contusions or minor fractures on his rib, pelvis, or limbs.


    Jefferson was physically hardened by the fact that he was a soldier. The training they had was excruciating. As Damian remembered, he had to sprint and run for hours, as a simtion to escape pursuing Abominants.


    The road was easy, with asional soft turns and an unobstructed highway. The strong winds persisted still. It was a gamble, to Damian, that their decision was right. Probably in their bunch, he had the most immersion battle with the Abominants, and he knew and studied about their behavior. Such as the Blind Ungoliant would hunt again back at the house.


    ¡¯Hell, it¡¯s still hunting us. Above the dark clouds, camouging,¡¯ Damian had asional squints to the skies.


    Being on the run, relying on the speed of their jeeps presented more probability of survival than staying in one location. One thing he also remembered was that his unconsciousrades, with the venom inside of them, had strong scents connected to the creature. Hence, wherever they would go, it can follow.


    Level 3 Abominants had special abilitiespared to the lower levels. Not only these Abominants were categorized into levels by their sizes, but these creatures were also based on their special abilities. The Level 3 Abominants had high instincts of survival, such as the Obsidian¡¯s Scorpion shell, which automatically curled itself to cover from destructive attacks, protecting its soft flesh.


    And its hunting skills also include heightened smell, and quick reflexes, moreover, the intelligence to outmaneuver its prey, like what it did with Fatso¡¯s jeep.


    He recently knew about the Blind Ungolian¡¯s characteristics ¨C even though it was smaller than the Obsidian Scorpion, one special ability was the capability to fly. Secondly, the ability to inject paralysis into victims by the use of its venom. Thirdly, the Blind Ungolian had heightened hearing andstly, its hiding ability by the use of sound deceptions.


    ¡¯Impressive skills,¡¯ Damian thought. It exined that the Blind Ungolian, even though its size equivalent to the level 2 Abominants, was categorized as level 3 because of its varied skills.


    In the Jeep, he had tworades and the unconscious George at the back of the passenger seat. Damian had instructed Joe to apany Jefferson because of Jefferson¡¯s possible injuries.


    Damian unceasingly worried about the condition of their jeeps. The Caretaker said that these units were still for preventive maintenance. What if the radiator would blow up? Or the unrefined oil could damage the engine? There were a lot of possibilities. The rebel members chose to leave these vehicles behind for an obvious reason.


    Luckily, the risk of breakdown had not stopped them since their escape.


    A few more miles and they would arrive to the prison.


    "Kris, scout above us. The Blind Ungolian could be hovering, waiting for us to decelerate." Damian said to hisrade in the right passenger seat.


    "Is it still alive? I thought the poison bombs could kill them instantly."


    "No. Poison bombs can kill instantly if the blue mist enters their system. The Ungolian managed to escape knowing about the harmful traits of the mist." Damian responded.


    Frantically, Kris aimed his rifle above them, toward the dark skies.


    "C¡¯mon, men. It¡¯s no time for kidding. I am on the edge here," Kris said with a shaking voice.


    Kris was one of the younger generations that joined the rebel faction, the Truthseekers as what they would like to call them. The trained rebel soldiers always targeted Kris to be bullied because of thetter¡¯s hyper-nervousness, and panicky gestures. Others said that some neophytes of the cause joined the rebel faction because of the incapability to look for legal jobs that could earn a living.


    With the current economic conditions, the Government announced to the public that the number of unemployed citizens grew by twenty percent for thest three years. That¡¯s about four to six million citizens.


    The Corporation had augmented their hiring standards for being scrappers. The level of intelligence should be above average during their evaluations.


    And as rumors floated, Kris had failed the evaluations and heard about the rebel faction¡¯s illegal exploits and the opportunity to earn from such activities, without further evaluations or background checking. As long as you be a member of the Truthseekers or the Rebels, you can participate in any activities and earn money in the process.


    Kris was no exception, the rumors were true as he confessed. However, he had been tested, and his loyalty to the cause of the rebel faction was justified.


    The Council established its own rulings on how to filter rebel candidates to join their cause. They were growing each year, as the economy had been worsening. Jefferson had established a program like what the spies did to test one individual of his loyalty.


    One of which was Hypothermia torture, where a neophyte would stand naked in a boxed cell and dosed with cold ice water, with a series of scripted questions being thrown at the pledgee.


    This method prevented the inclusion of Government or Corporate spies in their ranks.


    "Kris, if you hunt flying creatures, pay attention to your hearing, not with your eyes. You can¡¯t see anything in the air. Hear the pping sounds, the movement of dust particles, and how the wind reacted with the flying creature, then you use your eyes to confirm." Damian suggested.


    "What do you mean, should I close my eyes?" Kris asked.


    "No. Stay on one probable quadrant of your vision, and pay attention to your hearing the most. Don¡¯t panic, just listen." Damian said.


    "If ites?"


    Slightly, Damian pped Kris at his nape. "Of course, you fire your rifle, dumbass! It will follow the sound of our jeeps, so probably the Blind Ungolian will be in our rears. It¡¯s wounded, so it could not fly past us."


    "How do you know all this stuff?" Kris asked.


    "Soldier training, and of course the profiling made by the Outsiders," Damian responded.


    After a couple of minutes, the wind blew hard again, whistling like an iing typhoon. The dead trees were shaken by the strong winds and released small twigs and dead barks carried by the cold ominous breeze.


    "What is that?" Kris asked. His sight captured a flock of Abominated birds flying above them like a swarm of bees, flying about randomly, and with unforeseen direction.


    "Birds. Abominated ones. They migrate with the strong winds."


    "Will they attack us?"


    "They will if you are flying, but not on the ground."


    Damian did not fear the thousands of birds almost filling the dark sky, casting shadows below them. Sometimes, they blot the faint moon on the Northward quadrant of the sky. What Damian feared the most was the direction of the migration of the Abominated birds. They were heading towards the prison.


    "What is that?" Kris asked again, his vision had fixed to one position where the birds flocked in the air.


    "I told you these are birds," Damian said while he focused on the road ahead as the road was dark and blurried.


    "No. That one!" Kris said as the birds were noisier, and the nozzle of his rifle pointed to much thicker swarming birds.


    Damian squinted and arge shadow of another Abominant was being devoured by the swarm. A familiar shriek loomed.


    "Cannibalism?" Damian asked. Then of what had transpired, it gave him chills once again, like how they faced the Ungolian creature back at Gerald¡¯s view. "Shit Feck!"


    "What¡¯s wrong Damian? We should be happy!"


    "Happy? That the birds devoured the Ungolian Spider?"


    "Yes, we will not be worried about the level 3 Abominant much longer."


    "No. What I am worried about is the idea of cannibalism among Abominants. They don¡¯t do that unless a desperate need for food. I witnessed a lot of this happenings when we battled against the creatures in the Oroz borders. And if the birds were experiencing extreme hunger, then all Abominants would be behaving the same. And secondly, I feared about the Prison.


    The flock is heading there." Damian exined.


    "So? You told me that these birds won¡¯t attack the ground." Kris lowered his weapon as the chunk ofrge flesh had disappeared mid-air.


    "No, they won¡¯t. But the groundlings do. If birds appeared above, the groundlings would follow them because the groundlings are hungry too. And what¡¯s worse, the level 2 Abominants. They will follow us to prison."


    "Level 2? What are those?" Kris asked.


    "You haven¡¯t attended the Abominant Orientations? What kind of neophyte are you? Or you aren¡¯t just listening to the lectures." Damian said, he swerved the jeep to a deep curve and Jefferson followed from behind.


    Damian increased the eleration fearing for the groundlings to appear,


    Damian sighed in utter frustration.


    "Ok, here¡¯s a quick lesson for you about the level 2 Abominants. They are not like the groundlings, they are much bigger. Usually, there are a few level twos that we encountered during our hunting days. They could be in the form of a lion, a tiger, a wolf, or even boa constrictors. Usually, the level twos are much bigger than their dog counterparts.


    They are much stronger than the groundlings, sometimes much faster, and much meaner. They don¡¯t have special survival instincts like the level threes and have no special abilities, but what they have is a heightened hunger for meat. For human meat."


    Damian continued disclosing details about the level two Abominants and even reminisced stories when he was deployed.


    After a few hours, Damian turned the steering wheel to a sharp left and went inside a metallic interlink gate.


    "We are here," Damian said. However, his fear never left him. The birds were still hovering above them.

 Chapter 90: Sidetrack: Prison

    Damian


    Prison. Axe Central and Bay City Borders. 15 miles from Axe Central


    -------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Damian disembarked the jeep with the others, worrying about the heaving Abominated birds above the prison facility.


    "Boss, are we safe here?" Damian asked as Jefferson disembarked the parked jeep too.


    "Yeah. We have checked the locking system, it''s still operating. But there is something I want to discuss with the council," Jefferson responded as they headed inside the prison and the unconscious were immediately attended by theirrades.


    "What is it?"


    "Our power source."


    All the time, Jefferson would not disclose serious discussion with non-council member. Despite his discretion, it gave Damian great hint that the power source used in prison was not stable. What else that Jefferson wanted to discuss between the council members?


    Damian only nodded and they pressed on the ajar heavy metallic doors thatprised the entrance of the prison. But before he entered, Damian had a quick nce at the prison facility, the fa?ade however, had been a sturdy-looking, edgy concrete facility, three floors up, and reinforced steel railings on windows.


    ''Seemed like a fortress,'' Damian thought.


    As rebels, they felt imprisoned by the unfairness of the Government, lived underneath the city, and swarmed into the tunnels like rats. Whenever the rebel members exposed themselves outdoors, they would look over their shoulders with utmost fear. At that moment, their feeling of being prisoners had materialized in the prison facility.


    Above the thick metallic doors, a metallic ting that held the prison''s name - Felsom State Penitentiary- was bolted. It meant that they were now standing of the outskirts of Bay City, the Felsom State.


    Externally the prison had whitewashed concrete walls, thick looking and imprable. When he entered inside, the walls were filled with heavy-duty metallic framings, metallic sheets, andrge-width metallic beams that served as foundations.


    They knew that the prison already held theirrades as numerous vehicles were parked outside. At least, Damian had aforting feeling knowing that hisrades had fled the city safely.


    Some features of the prison were not functional as when they entered, the metallic gates were manually opened by theirrades on guard duty.


    "Boss, wee!" The rebel guard said as he forcefully pulled a lever beside the metallic door and it swung open after a smooth rm sound.


    "This prison may be old but it would still hold its purpose," Jefferson said to Damian, thetter walking behind him. The wounded were hastily carried with mobile cots towards the rebel healers.


    "How do you manage to make this functional again? It seemed that the facility features are ancient," Damian said.


    "Erik Berkley told me about this ce. His close friend, a Civil Engineer designed this ce during the pre Abominant wars, as the surviving cities still flourished." Jefferson answered.


    Damian had heard about the stories of this Civil Engineer who practically built half of the cities of Bay and Axe. He built these monumental structures including prominent towers in Bloomforge Enve.


    He had a civil engineering profession but held the Corporation rank of Electronic Tier 2 based on educational attainment and project contributions.


    He was one of the mysterious group of Lost Engineers.


    After the wars, there were no stories about the Lost Engineers. Rumors were solidified by many citizens that these were some of the greatest minds in the Corporation that had lost faith in the Government and those in power and influence.


    They eloped from the cities because not only did they fear for their lives, but they also wanted to continue their work, their passion as Scientists, not driven by greed and vicious self-interest.


    The rebels believed that the Lost Engineers existed and they were vital ingredients of how the Outsiders survived for so long.


    They pressed on the hallway, passing through a throng of prison cells, not that caged type, but enforced with heavy metallic doors, only essible by digital switches.


    "They must be in the mess halls," Jefferson said.


    "What about the birds outside? You know the risks of a horde attack on this prison," Damian said.


    "If they attack we will gun them down. This prison is reinforced with mounted sentry guns defense system. I know our people are working for it to function," Jefferson said. "And this facility is imprable."


    Damian had doubts about the guaranteed imprability of the facility. ''There''s gotta be a reason why the government had abandoned this kind of fortress,'' Damian thought.


    "I want you to join the Council meeting, Damian. With your years in rebel service, you earn a seat. I will just talk to the council members about your vital contribution to them." Jefferson exined and Damian nodded.


    Who would not want an ess to the leaders of the faction and would know the ns first hand?


    After a few long hallway walks, they arrived at the mess hall. Hundreds of women and childrenbine, heaved the unkempt arrangement of abandoned chairs and tables of a thousand square meter mess hall.


    Some people moved the chairs and tables on the side, to amodate rooms for their tents. Women tended with the children of food and water, and also to the old ones.


    Damian received curt smiles from the kids and some rebel members as they passed along them. Jefferson talked to the others and eased their tensioned minds. "Don''t worry, I will be making announcement after our council meeting." Jefferson whispered.


    It was clear from their expression that they were tired from running and the difort of moving such a poption for fifteen miles outside the walls.


    He saw George and the other two lying down at the far end where the rebel healers checked on them. Behind him, Joe exchanged smiles with the others.


    Expectedly, Joe was one of the friendly-type neighbors. He used to share their exploits outside the wall and their journey with Lance Berkley. After a few months, Lance became a rebel celebrity because of the business opportunities that the kid offered and the stories conveyed by Joe.


    On the far end, away from the soft guffaws of theirrades, the Council members had their on-going meeting around a mess hall table, five of them.


    "Excuse me, council!" The respective smile of the rebels could be seen. Damian followed as Jefferson lowered himself to a chair along the encircling council members.


    "Jefferson, d that you could join us." The only female council member said.


    "Yes. I know it''s a bad time to discuss about bad news. We are still recuperating our ranks, and such activity needed physical presence and attention." Jefferson said. "But, such predicament raised extreme levels that needed your undistracted attention."


    "We are talking about the unstable power source, Jefferson," The female council said.


    "Yes. I know I have anticipated this discussion as we inspected the ce days ago." Jefferson said as he settled himself in a chair together with Damian. "I included Damian in this council meeting because of his close rtionship with Lance."


    "Why? Why do we need Lance in this situation." The older council said.


    "For now, we are powered by an Electric generator, an old-school system, and powered by Diesel. You know that Diesel is an expensive resource that we don''t have. Otherwise, we will sacrifice food supplies for fifty people at least to keep this ce afloat." Jefferson exined. "Lance''s connection with our situation is that Damian told me about the kid''s pursuit of building an Ultragenerator."


    "Ultragenerator? What is it?" The councilwoman said.


    "The Ultragenerator is a self-sufficient power generator that needed no external resource for it to operate," Damian exined. " Lance had been telling me about this that he has been meaning to buy the Energy elerator in Axiom Trench."


    "Let''s acquire the Energy elerator," the other councilman said.


    "The thing is, we need to buy it for three thousand units," Damian said and frowning faces emerged from each of the rebel council. "Lance needs that money to form the Ultragenerator. I urged the council to allocate resources for the kid to acquire such aponent."


    "What? Three thousand units? Are you insane?" One councilman said. Jefferson was rather silent and Damian wanted the former to express his support about this.


    "If we continue with Diesel, we will spend a lot more and the acquisition nowadays as the Demetrian season was approaching, the rigs are almost dry," Damian said.


    "We need that money for food!" The councilwoman said.


    "Now, council. I want the treasurer to speak up. How much is the money we have?" Jefferson said.


    "Ahem.." the treasurer straightened his voice. "As the SHF raid transpired, our money cards were left back at the camps. So, what we have currently is around 3300 units. That''s enough for a week''s food supply for ourrades."


    Silence fell on them.


    "What about we ask for a loan in Axiom?" one middle-aged councilman had raised.


    "No. Axioms don''t ept loans nowadays. They are also saving up for the Demetrian season."


    The Demetrian season had been challenging for many citizens, especially themoners. Especially for the dire need for food. The Government and the Corporation had allocated their food reserves to the tycoons who controlled the markets, only serving to those who could buy in bulk, mainly.


    And with the worsening economy during this season, food traders will increase the prices just topensate for the food storage rentals.


    "Therefore, our hopes are directed to ourrade, Lance Berkley." Jefferson said.

 Chapter 91: Requirements

    3rd Floor CastleRise, HyperVista Condominiums, Axe Central City


    ----------------------------------------------------------------------


    No more rebels underground. It only meant that the SHF had already mobilized to flush the rebels out. It was two days ago. Lance had been expecting the News about the captured rebels. The Media were silent.


    He just hoped momentarily that Felsom Prison would be a perfect shelter against the reach of Abominants. Some safety features were functional however, providing a guarantee to not falter when shaken by a horde attack.


    The winds had been strangetely which gave Lance immense diforting thoughts about hisrades. Damian had visited him yesterday and told him about their situation. As he was told, Damian''s assessment and facility integrity, Felsom prison would be imprable for the Abominants.


    Well, the facility had been tested a day before with the groundlings attacking almost unceasingly for the duration of nighttime, as Damian had foreseen. He had seen such incident when he was deployed, the Abominated birds were not a threat to them, but of what they bring after they swarm above you.


    Damian had also told him about the need for Ultragenerator and the rebel council in dire need of money. They needed a loan and somehow the only way they could procure such money was the Axiom Trench money reserves, however, since the Demetrian season was approaching fast, Trenchers halted money movements except for supplies.


    The Council members also had their spies walking amongst the citizens in Axe Central City and they gave information about the budget constraints that had been experienced by almost all Government agencies and Corporations.


    With the current predicament, Lance paid in advance his fees to the Rebel council through Damian. 400 units rental fees per month for two months, a total of 800 units, and his Rattus collection business of 400 units for two months. A total of 1200 units for the cause.


    Lance gave Damian one hundred marketable poison bombs intended for the Outsiders and Trenchers. Each will be sold for 50 units each. Most of his nights, he allocated his time for the poison bomb assembly in his new Condominium in Hypervista through his fabrication table.


    He kept twenty poison bombs for himself for protection. Damian also shared that the suspected Abominated Human that killed all SHF that attacked the camps had already infiltrated the walls. Given the possibility that such Abominant was hunting Lance and two of hisrades, he kept poison bombs for himself.


    "Jasper, show requirements for the Ultragenerator project," Lancemanded.


    "Yes, master. I will base this data for the industrial-grade Ultragenerator units used in Government and Corporation facililites. I am assuming that you are going to manufacture one for the Felsom prison," Jasper responded.


    A holographic construct appeared;


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------


    [Project name] Ultragenerator


    [Objective] To create a perpetual energy cycle, a self-sustaining system, that could power at least 1000 megawatts an estimate for all prison facilities throughout the surviving cities.


    [Requirement: Majorponents]


    Energy elerator ¨C for procurement (3000 units)


    Infused Electromaic Battery ¨C in inventory


    Schematic boards for panel circuitries ¨C for procurement (100 units)


    High resistive conductor ¨C in inventory (Obsidian scorpion exoskeleton)


    Impure Gold wirings ¨C for procurement (500 units)


    X5 Turbine systems ¨C for procurement (1000 units)


    [Total needed units] ¨C 4600 units


    --------------------------------------------------------------------


    --------------------------------------------------------------------


    [Possible sources]


    Scrapyard Tier 3


    Any Mid-sser Trade Markets


    SteamHaven Trade stores


    -----------------------------------------------------------------------


    "Jasper, tell me an alternative source for the procurement of Energy elerator," Lance said. Knowing that the winds raging from the Eastern and Northern quadrants, Axiom Trench could be a dangerous ce to travel to.


    "I am sorry, Master. Energy elerators are not for sale anywhere in Axe Central," Jasper responded. "You were saying that you are going to acquire the Energy elerator from Merchant One."


    In this case, he needs Damian''s expertise again to another hazardous journey. Additional expense


    "Ok. Technical skills requirement for Masterwork level equipment assembly," Lance said to Jasper.


    -----------------------------------------------------------------


    [Required Skills / Rmendations]


    [1] Pre Masters Advanced Electrical Motors Assembly


    [2] Pre Masters Perpetual Energy Mechanics


    [3] Specialized course for Masterworks Energy Sources


    -----------------------------------------------------------------


    Jasper''s new features enabled Lance as the user to leverage on all Scientific and Engineering Manuals made by the Corporation and the Governments for his personal use.


    However, Jasper could not provide Lance with the intricate discussions and technical know-how thatprises the courses and the degrees being offered by Scientia Academia.


    It would take him months to finish the required courses and be able to sessfully assemble the Ultragenerator and the Rebel Faction had no such time. They needed the equipment as soon as possible, otherwise, it would drain them of the mary capabilities of procuring Diesel.


    Moreover, the cost implications of such courses would drain his own mary reserves.


    In addition, the procurement of the needed materials for its assembly implied mary need and the predicament of sourcing out these materials.


    He needed additional brains to assemble a Masterwork Level equipment and he needed the needed equipment to assemble a probablyrge equipment that would suffice the needed capacity.


    His Fabrication table could only amodate prototypes for his project, not the actual project itself.


    He scratched his head as maybe his slight frustration. The HyperVista Condominium, 3rd floor, held a viewing window of the expanse of the sector. He was unsure how such a view would calm his nerves and his burnout brain from an overwhelming responsibility. He was not ying games anymore at the age of sixteen. No. He already had obligations beyond the grasp of an average person.


    His decisions, even hisziness, could affect the lives of many innocent Rebel members.


    ''Father. What am I going to do?'' He pressed his palms against the viewing window, that upied the whole expanse of his Eastern wall. The condominium had a 50 square meter floor area, a little bigger than his apartment, holding a single bedroom. Nothing fancy about his room, he took some unnecessary furniture out and reced it with his piles of scraps.


    Even though the offerings as a Mech Tier 1 could provide him choices sufficient to support himself and his businesses scrapping was his passion, for a reason that he could not apparently grasp.


    He just loved the smell of grease and oil. The concept of repairing damaged goods, or maybe the concept of recycling the Electronic waste of the City, hence, contributing to a greener environmental fashion.


    Lance was not awed by the interior that held the condominium but by the amenities it offered. His room was designed to simple proportions, which was great for his taste. He hated the thought of overdesigning and overuse of unnecessary materials knowing that millions of citizens were in grave need of money.


    The Amenities however had irked him. The topmost floor held a swimming pool, next to a zen garden, and an array of cubicle baths that would provide a euphoric feel of bathing ¨C some would call it the Elemental Bathing, experiencing different aromas and elements depending on one''s desire. If you want to bathe with a mud theme, then the Elemental Bathing cubicle would provide one for you.


    The Amenities obviously were insensitive with the proper use of water, as he imagined the Death by thirst experiencest year.


    Ten thousand gallons of water are spent each day, Lance estimated.


    Every time he thinks about it, he curses inwardly, screaming with utter hate for the Corporation and the Government.


    The dark cluster of dust and clouds moved about the dark overcast. It was so perceptibletely as the MAF (Multifunctional Air Filters) hovering above absorbing them for filtration, or maybe his altitude provided him the benefit of witnessing such beauty. The crazy winds had caused perceptible dust cluster movements in the atmosphere. It was like the onset of the Demetrian season.


    In apparent fairness, the MAFs held a precarious position of beauty and function. It was brilliant nheless. But, this equipment was made from greed and control, solely to deceive the hearts of the citizens and eventually, making the inventor divine.


    His view permitted him to witness five MAFs in the air, absorbing contaminated air. Sometimes, the timing of the sun''s position, streaking through filtered sunrays, shining upon an angle toward the atmosphere above them, it was perceptible that the MAFs were blowing down filtered air from its chamber like rain. Like a fog of life being supplied to the hopeless citizens below called humanity.


    ''Would the delivered salt will suffice and prevent the secondary Death by Thirst?'' He thought.


    "Jasper, I want to start procuring the materials. But first, what''s my current savings?" Lance asked.


    ----------------------------------------------------------------------


    [Currency] ¨C 16,800 units


    [Current transaction] ¨C 1200 units for Rebel camp advance payment


    ----------------------------------------------------------------------


    It was not enough to topple the greatest and most powerful organization in the city. But it was enough to procure the Ultragenerator materials.


    "Master, I suggest you upgrade yourself first to Mechanical Level 3 for 3000 units," Jasper said.


    "I don''t need to upgrade, Jasper. I need to work on the Ultragenerator." Lance said.


    "I know, Master. Somehow, in my database, Mechanical Tier 3 has offerings you might use during your assembly, such as a free selection of courses offered by the Academy. However, my database does not tell me the specific course, but we can try asking it in SARS during your registration." Jasper suggested.


    "Ok, I will follow your suggestion. I will visit SARS tomorrow." Lance responded.

 Chapter 92 Fame

    SARS ¨C Science Aspirant Registration Service


    ------------------------------------------------------------------------


    The crowd inside SARS seemed to be distracted by their CloudArchives ¨C personal digital tablets that stored their legal documents, even their personal files and could convey news from Media and any othermunications from the Government or Corporation. Continue your journey with empire


    The aspiring scientists that filled the wide halls of SARS clustered together, conversing noisily. Lance seemed to be indifferent, but he knew something was up.


    It was always when there was News that came from the Corporation, announcements, or amendments, Corporation celebrities celebrating special asions, a newly constructed megastructure, or some gruesome news like murders, terrorism, and of course new Scientific breakthroughs, such as new projects.


    Lance was indifferent still, but something was rming. From the majority of the aspirants, something ted them. However, for a few moments, he knew that something trendy filled the News as he heard positive appreciation from the looks of the Scientists.


    As he weaved about the throng of crowded scientists, he overheard some conversations;


    "who is this, guy? He must be one of the high echelons," one teenager said.


    "No, he doesn''t dress like us. Probably, a mid-sser," one high-sser responded.


    "Genius!"


    "This guy won''tst long, I assure you all." One antagonized.


    Unsure of the topic, he took out his CloudArchive to check on the news. He activated it and a prompt message appeared on its screen. Well, assessor Mari could wait as he took steps nearer to the Junior Assessor''s table.


    The news article blew up and escted Lance''s heart rate. It was his face on the news! And beside his portrait was the title of the article: Aspiring Scientist''s Amazing Discovery!


    It was about his sessful RoFlo production. He read quite a few lines there;


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Robotic Floatation Pollution Control Device or RoFlo was invented by a Scrapper Tier 2 Scientist, Mr. Lance Berkley. RoFlo is a device that floats on our wastewater treatment facilities in our WWMD and is baffled by the invention''s effectiveness on water pollution collection¡­.


    Kranian Industries assembled the actual RoFlo mass production and Mr. Berkley was assigned as the coTOR of Doctor Zee Andradez, the Industrialist Tier 1¡­.


    Mr. Berkley''s contribution provided great help with the current predicaments of major water pollution control systems, avoiding multi-million units of facility construction for our wastewater management systems in the future because of the presence of thousands of RoFlo''s in the wastewater treatment facilities¡­.


    In light of Mr. Berkley''s achievements, Doctor Zee Andradezmends the inventor''s breakthrough, thus granted him offerings beyond the established rules of Tier rankings¡­.


    "This is to inspire Scientists to look beyond their present thinking and create inventions outside the norm. Mr. Berkley had created something of great use, city-wide, beyond the trends nowadays. I urge scientists to improve our waste management systems, a dirty job of course, but we, as the Corporation leaders, will not deny its impact¡­." - Doctor Zee Andradez.


    --------------------------------------------------------------------------


    The news went on. A two-page article that hooked the aspiring scientists, somehow, would motivate the younger ones, especially the Scrapper Tiers.


    What made the majority happy about these projects as rumors had circted about budget constraints in the city''s economic state, sacrificing humanitarian privileges and programs for themunity, especially the richmunities, would resurface mary grants back to the employees.


    Somehow, as they connected the dots, RoFlo''s existence saved millions of units for the Government, hence, granting the privileges back to the citizens.


    "Bonuses!" One scientist, in his mid-twenties, shouted. He was quite sure about it. He turned many heads inside the hall and some of them cheered and pped. "Praise Mr. Berkley!" Thenughter loomed.


    Lucky for Lance, the people did not notice him. He wore decent and mid-sser clothes in the portrait, with a filtered face and a friendly smile. In person, Lance has rather had a gloomy aura, wearing his pocketed jeans as Commoners do, and a repulsive personality.


    He turned off his CloudArchive and continued to approach Mari''s table. Mari''s attention directly glued to her CloudArchive as well, probably was wondering about the crowd''s ecstatic distraction.


    "Ahem¡­" Lance ced his CloudArchive on Mari''s table. "Hi, Miss Mari. I am here once again to apply for an offering of ranking up."


    Mari turned her head away from her tablet and stared at the young boy across her table.


    "You are Mr. Berkley," she said softly, her mouth opened but did not utter any word further.


    "Yes. I am here for the offer of Mechanical Tier 3 from Doctor Zee Andradez." Lance said.


    "You are famous, now," Mari said.


    Doctor Zee''s reputation greatly impacts the lives of the scientificmunity and that made Doctor Zee one of the Corporation celebrities. If Lance wasmended by Doctor Zee, the former achieved a rare opportunity and gained equal fame for a duration of time.


    "Famous. That''s an exaggeration, Miss Mari," Lance answered.


    Mari''s face turned to glee, unlike his two encounters before, the former had subtle hostility in her treatments with the Commoner. She turned her head with a smile on her face as if wanted to announce that the recently famous scientist was standing in front of her.


    "Wow. Mr. Lance Berkley," she seemed to have an authentic appreciation towards the kid. "For only a quarter of the year, you managed to reach a Mech Tier 3? Very impressive. You must have famous parents or Government influencers."


    Government Influencers were usually politicians or personas handling high positions in Government departments such as Jaqi''s parents ¨C her mother was the Directress of the Agri Sector and her father was the Secretary head of the Customs and Border Defense department. Both departments were hailed vital to the city''s control.


    "Nope. I am orphaned, now. My father died years ago." Lance winced.


    "You must have a famous father," Mari said, something in her line of questioning somehow had a hint of mockery.


    "Nope. He lived a simple life and died simply without any fame and money." He told the half the truth. "Listen, I want this transaction to be fast. Doctor Zee would like to have a meeting with me the soonest." Then he lied about his meeting with the Industrialist Tier 1.


    "Sorry to even bring it up," Mari seemed to cringed to the kid. "Ok. I will expedite your request, granting you haveplete requirements¡­ Oh. Sorry, I know you haveplete requirements. It''s Doc Zee''s rmendation."


    She started to nce at the CloudArchive and scan through Lance''s documents and rmendation letters.


    Lance stood there with his head bent low without attracting any attention from the crowd while Mari hurriedly and deftly typed on her ss touch keyboard. Lance ced thirty currency cards on her desk amounting to three thousand units as payment for his ranking.


    After a few minutes, "Mr. Berkley, I have expedited your request and you are now a Mechanic Tier three. In your CloudArchive, you will see the offerings of your new rank.


    He scanned his tablet. It had the same offerings when achieved the Mechanic Tier 1 such as ess to a Desker job, ess to a scrapyard tier 3, and the scrap levelpositions, but with no new amodation offer. What Lance had raised his eyebrows was the fourth item of the offering.


    ------------------------------------------------------------------


    [4] Free courses avable.


    [a] Advanced Agricultural Mechanics - Knowledge and application of various high technological advancements for Agricultural use. [Intelligence grade 2]


    [b] Specialized course for Masterworks Energy Sources - Concepts and advance knowledge in various Energy sources and industrial applications. [Intelligence grade 3]


    [c] Advanced Mechanical Strength of Materials - High calctive course about metallic strengths in structures and construction engineering fields. [Intelligence grade 2]


    [d] Basics of Metal Forging - Concepts on metalponent mixture using industrial grade metal forging equipment and technology. [Intelligence grade 1]


    --------------------------------------------------------------------


    "Thanks," he said to Mari. "I would like to register for the Specialized course for Masterworks Energy Sources."


    Lucky but expected. A specialized course for Energy sources was his needed technical know how to construct the Ultragenerator by the use of the two energy majorponents - Infused Electromaic Battery and the Energy elerator.


    Moreover, Lance was also surprised of the courses'' respective intelligence grade. He heard about it before that the Scientists that took on courses had their augmentations of their intelligence grades. It held no importance before as Lance had assessed, he only needed the Scientific rankings.


    "Master, I will inlcude in your profile your intelligence grade as you n to take on the course." Jasper whispered at the back of his ear. "The intelligence grade would tell how much knowledge an individual had enrolled in to. The higher the intelligence grade, the greater is the knowledge acquired. In your case, Master, you have an Intelligence grade Zero."


    ''That''s absurd! Intelligence grade Zero and I am already in the News articles andmended by one of the Corporation Celebrities,'' Lance boasted in his thoughts.


    "Right away, Mr. Berkley," Mari said. After a few moments, "You are registered now. Please proceed to the High Science Academy and look for Doctor Adamson."


    The course would take him months to finish and such time the rebels don''t have. They needed the Ultragenerator immediately. Hence, his n should work. But first, he needed to talk to Doctor Adamson.

 Chapter 93 InVitro

    "Jasper, what is the highest Intelligence grade there is?" Lance asked while going outside the SARS building.


    "Intelligence grade levels depend on the courses you finished. The highest level is Intelligence grade level thirty. These are the capabilities of Industrialists level. You will not be such a level if you do not reach level 15." Jasper answered.


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------


    [Currency] 13,800 units


    [Recent Transaction] paid 3,000 units for the Mechanic Tier Registration


    [To-do list]


    [1] Finish Specialized course for Masterworks Energy sources


    [2] Acquire the needed materials for Ultragenerator


    [3] Build the Ultragenerator


    [Side jobs]


    [1] In-vitro project with Jaqi.


    [2] Recreate Zelkian Farming ¨C pending


    [3] Pending Tyllrium trade


    [4] Market poison bombs


    [Pending missions]


    [1] Find the mystery girl


    --------------------------------------------------------------------


    "Well, intelligence level should wait for me. If I am level zero, then so be it." He continued his steps toward the downsteps of the external ground.


    "You are now enrolled in the Specialized Masterworks Energy Sources course, it will give you two points in intelligence level, Master," Jasper said.


    "Yeah, but I will not be finishing. I will just talk to Doctor Adamson." He squinted to the far West, to where the High Science Academy was located, in the BloomForge Enve.


    "For what purpose, master? You needed the course for your Ultragenerator!"


    "Yes, it''s true. But first, my time is needed elsewhere."


    ***


    Homestead Green Sector, Axe Central


    ***


    Lance had always been so cautious when inside the Agricultural Laboratory of the Dome in Homestead Green. He oftentimes squinted to Jaqi as she worked on the other table with her back facing Lance. Her spotless white gown covered Jaqi''s high-slit pastel-colored tunic, twoyers of them, fashionably elegant looking. She took all her jewelry out as could physically contaminate the sensitive media.


    Perhaps his cautiousness was connected to his insecurity when Jaqi was around. Especially, when her focus had engaged with work. He should at least surmount the level of hard work of this girl as not to embarrass himself in front of her.


    Lance would always smell his hands, the sanitizer sent mountain rain freshness to his nostrils. As a requirement, before they would enter the Dome''s experimentalb, they would sanitize everything, clothes, hands, and shoes. The Sanitation room, before the mainboratory floor, had an aromatic mist sprayed all over them.


    He was unsure if the scent was likeable, or because the scent soothed his nervousness.


    What''s funny though, everything was in their proper ce. But when Jaqi worked, they would be in total chaos. Lance could sometimes rte himself the unkempt unsolvable mess of his new condominium.


    Despite her disorganization with how she utilized the equipment, still she progressed fast. Laser-focused. The vials had their respective tabletop racks in front of her. Each of them should be intricately filled with the bacterial media used for their in-vitro nt propagation by a robotic arm liquid dispenser. Expertly, she handled robotic equipment as if she designed them.


    Which intimidated her partner, Lance.


    One hundred bacteria-filled test tubes, three inches in diameter, were ced carefully by Jaqi in centrifugal machines to properly activate and mix the medium. She waited for the machine to finish mixing. As the humming sound dissipated, she opened the lid, took five samples haphazardly, and inspected the transparent test tubes, observing the hazy white media became homogenous.


    She studied the science about the basics of bacteriology, but no such course or premaster degree was offered by the Corporation. She said, "It''s a myth. The Lost Engineers never existed. People just formed this fake news about them for others to me the Corporation of unruly and injustice governance."


    She also said, "The technology is just lost. The study of bacteria and microorganisms was long gone when the Nuclear World War struck!"


    She boasted, "I have studied a lot in the Science Archives about Bacteria growth in controlled environments but never mentioned the names of the experts in these fields."


    They had small talks every few moments such as, "It''s good you decided to be a Mechanic Tier 3. We are the same now."


    "Well, I am after with the free courses offered. I wanted to know about the Energy Sources concepts," Lance responded.


    "Well, I have finished the Specialized course," Jaqi shared.


    "What is your intelligence level then?" Lance asked. Jaqi also epted the free course, too. It meant that Jaqi knew the basics of Energy source instations andponentpatibility.


    "Hmm. Intelligence grade Level four. I have taken up three courses ever since, excluding the free ones of course."


    "I took none," Lanceughed softly, while she distracted herself with a sweet stare and a smile.


    Lance''s responsibility in the project''s initial phase was to disinfect the vials for the purpose of decontaminating the bacterial media when ced inside them. Due to unchallenging responsibility, sometimes Lance would fazed off with somnolence and would energize himself by engaging small talks with Jaqi.


    She seemed unfazed herself with work but had always respectfully responded to everything Lance threw at her.


    "Just curious, Jaqi. Have you heard about the SHF? The one group that rumors floated around the dark?" Lance asked.


    "SHF? Let me think¡­Hmm¡­ it''s confidential," She had this weird smile, awkward curve at the ends of his mouth seemed to be tensed.


    "I know it''s confidential. Rumors floated that they were formed to flush out the rebels. But I have not heard from the News."


    "Ok. If you insist and if you stop talking about them further, this is what I''ll give you¡­ The SHF is true and established by my father as the head. And it is not the big part. The big part is that they are still hunting the rebels. My father said they sessfully removed them underground. Can you imagine, all this time, they lived underground?"


    Lance did not answer at that. Instead, he showed a fake surprise face. He opened his mouth, acting like surprised.


    "Look, it''s a secret all right," Jaqi continued.


    "What do you think of the rebels?" Lance asked. He just wanted to know what the likes of Jaqi thought about hisrades.


    "Well, a menace. For one. I mean. They are blinded by their so-called cause. The Media is telling the truth. The rebels are ming the system for what they achieved in the world.


    I mean, they are finding ways to live illegally just to survive. And that means joining the rebels."


    "Well, maybe. In that perspective, it sounded true," Lance added.


    "Do you believe what they are doing is right?"


    "I little. Maybe. I don''t know," He chose his words carefully, "I lived amoner for years and have experienced sometimes that the system is rigged, only setting an advantage to those who have, absolutely unfair for the people who don''t have. They are, somehow, fighting what they know the truth. To have the courage to take arms and fight for their lives against a rigged system.


    And relying upon some distant hope to amend everything from the ground up, a system that took care of the citizens, a system that doesn''t allow its citizens to suffer from the scant resource."


    She scoffed after Lance spoke.


    "You sounded like my father, but exactly in the opposite notion." Jaqi only said. An awkward silence between them permeated the space right after. "Well, congrattions again for your achievement. You are famous now. The Scientists are talking about you."


    She redirected a topic outside the rebels and the system and governance for an obvious reason. They could argue with the opposing beliefs to no end. Jaqi does not want the confrontation? Or maybe because she wanted to finish the project with her partner intact with their positive rtionship?


    "That''s twice already today that you congratted me," Lance said. "You appeared in the news, too. About your ShowerSmart project."


    "Yes. Because of my family name." She recoiled. Explore more stories at empire


    "You should not be ashamed of it. You should be proud. It is a great feat to achieve such an impactful project. Helping the environment and the resource."


    She rolled her eyes, interpreting Lance''s statement as bullshit. Maybe she heard a lot about these appreciations about her ShowerSmart project, perhaps, she seemed to dislike them.


    "OK. We will finish a thousand bottles of these, and we ce them in the cooling room. So, we will ce the King Orange seedlings tomorrow."


    The Agriculturists called the new gically designed orange tree as King Orange because of its fruit size. It was as big as a melon, weighing three to four kilograms.


    "I am thinking. I have a new proposition. Let''s make a variety." Lance suggested.


    "Why? Let''s stick with 100% King Orange propagation."


    "No. Let''s make it 80% King Orange, and 20% Aiveez," Lance said.


    "Aiveez? Why risk the project to a new nt? We had the experiments and the King Orange ispatible with the bacterial media we used."


    "I knew the panelists. In order for us to achieve homerun, we should let them know that the bacterial medium you invented ispatible with other nts as well."


    "You have a point. Now, what''s exactly an Aiveez?" She asked.


    "I have one in my apartment before. Aiveez is used to fend off Abominants. Their aromatic smell could also be used to provide fragrance in homes."


    She craned her head up to the ceiling. She was clearly thinking. Then a silence had fell upon them with only the humming sounds of the air conditioning units of theb. From the ceiling, her stare shifted to Lance and her lips pouted.


    "You are right! Let''s do it." She was convinced.


    Lance needed another space and mode to propagate his Aiveez for its nectar production. He wanted to manufacture more poison bombs in preparation for his travels outside the walls. He nned to make a trip back to Axiom Trench the next week to acquire the Energy elerator, for real this time.

 Chapter 94 Replanting

    The next day


    Homestead Green Sector, Axe Central


    --------------------------------------------------------------------


    The nozzles hissed, ten of them from different locations inside the sanitation chamber, covered in translucent ss and a holographic readings of microbial content carried by the person inside.


    "Commencing sanitation procedure," the AI loomed inside.


    The aromatic mountain rain mist of milky white filled the six-square meter chamber. The white cloud danced all over Lance, feeling them inside his garments invading every bit of space between his clothes.


    He held an EazyCage in his left hand. The EazyCage had a volume capacity of 25 liters, and Lance imagined even the small contents inside the EazyCage could be propagated to a much greater volume in time and would serve an unimaginable impact to the world. He knew he held the key to humanity''s survival. But nobody had discovered it yet, except him and the Outsiders.


    However, Lance was the only person who knew how to utilize the core nectar of the Aiveez nt and create them into poison bombs. In the depths of morality, something had urged him not to disclose this invention to the world yet, especially to the Corporation. Like his mobile AI invention, Jasper.


    "Sanitation proceduresplete," The AI said after a few minutes and the door in front of him opened, providing him ess to the next chamber.


    The next chamber would scan the individual for any carried physical, chemical, or radiological hazards. Instead of nozzles,sers emerged from various corners and scanned his body.


    "Scanning potential hazards," the AI said. "Identified metallic substance, EazyCage. Please submit the potential hazard to the table provided."


    "Overridemand. EazyCage and its contents will be used inside theb." Lance said.


    "Request approved," AI responded.


    Then, the door in front of him slid open. He went inside theboratory and embraced with cooled regted air. On one side, the centrifuged vials were ced in a pressurized container, two meters long, to preserve the media. It was beside Jaqi''s working table. Unfortunately, he had to work on his own today, as his partner had meetings to attend to.


    Lance inputted his code to the touchpad and the pressurized container opened after a perceptible hiss. A web of thick cold air filled the container, and the vials ensped with thick frost icicles. There were hundreds of them. Lance checked on them, as Jaqi told him to.


    He took one cold vial out from the container and tried to shake the contents. The bacteria seemed stable - the medium did not spill out as he shook and even inverted it. However, it gradually moved, strongly clinging its sticky characteristic against the ss.


    The foggy white medium inside the vial turned thicker and more darkened. ''It''s a sess,'' He thought as indications of a sessful media growth.


    Jaqi said that these bacteria incorporated into a gel filled with nutrition would multiply their nutritive levels through time, supporting the growth of the gically produced hybrid seedlings.


    The thought of Jaqi and her point of view about the rebels and how the city functions gave Lance a little irritation, not because Jaqi chose sides between the Rebels'' cause and the Corporation''s cause. But because of how the higher echelons were being brainwashed by their parents, moreover, blinded by the same system that had provided them everything to thrive beyond the norms of society.


    Lance shook his head upon the thought. It was not Jaqi''s fault. She had not yet experienced the life of being a Commoner of how hard it is to live beyond the necessary means.


    He returned the vial and closed the container. He ced the EazyCage on the table and opened it. A set of Aiveez seedlings nted on a seedbed wafted their glow through a pressurized air escaping from the inside of the cage.


    "Detecting foreign organic matter, unregistered to this facility," a female voice AI loomed inside theb as it detected the Aiveez seedlings.


    "Domeb, register Aiveez seedlings," Lance said. This was to program the AI not to prompt them every time it scanned an Aiveez nt.


    "Copy, Mister Berkley. Added in the database ¨C Aiveez nt seedlings."


    Lance ced the seedbed on a metallic tform where a few robotic arms, asrge as humans'' arms, were installed on top of the tform ready for whatever objective they were programmed to.


    The metallic arms were connected to small shovels that dug them up withoutpromising the integrity of the seedlings'' roots. Everything was automated, even in farming.


    Lance took the bacteria-filled vials from the five-leveled racks, held hundreds of vials, and ced them on the provided tables. He did this process manually though.


    Carefully, the seedlings went inside the vial''s opening and one by one, the vials ced in racks were filled with seedlings. It was fascinating though; it seemed the rack was made of bluish LED bulbs. The bright white light inside theb was conquered by the bluish illumination from the Aiveez seedlings.


    Not only that, theb which smelled like sanitation chemicals, was now invaded with a unique aromatic scent from the Aiveez.


    The robots did the work, all he did during the entire process was just to transfer the vials to the working table where the renting transpired.


    On the other side of the room, through the transparent ss window that separated the two rooms, was the nted King Orange in-vitro propagation, all five hundred vialed seedlings.


    ''A small forty square meter room could amodate 500 seedlings in a few racks. How much more for one Dome?'' He thought. The possibility was overwhelming, and such a project would grow to unimaginable heights. Citizens needed food, fruits, vegetables, and spices in that matter, however, the city had space constraints for agriculture.


    ''Jaqi would be surprised,'' He thought.


    "Dome Lab," Lance spoke to the AI, "progress report for Jaqi. Please record¡­ I am finished with nting the Aiveez seedlings, all 100 units of them. I will be heading to Doctor Adamson. I will follow your advice about the courses. Wish me luck. See ya!"


    ''See yah in a week,'' He said to himself. The thought of Jaqi gave him a jolt of mysterious happiness. Although he knew that Jaqi was a product of a misguided principle and a princess of the City, somehow, Lance pitied her.


    ***


    High Science Academy, BloomForge Enve, Axe Central City


    ***


    The school was different. Or rather, the students were different. Not a singlemoner could be seen inside the ssroom of Doctor Adamson. He snuck inside an ongoing ss that Adamson was teaching. He did not know what subject he was on but it discussed electrons and protons and energies, which Lance had little knowledge about.


    The teacher did not recognize him inside the ss as he hid himself at the farthest seat, at the back of the students were, luckily, there was one vacant chair.


    As he went inside, the room was poorly lighted. Bright lights were focused on the lecturer while the seated students had pen lights at the corners of the depressed ceiling.


    His entry was stealthy, thanks to the darkness.


    The room held about a hundred students of various age gaps. It was wide enough to make room for sufficient distancing of students as to prevent them from talking or cheating during examinations.


    Lance ced his hood over his head and slouched to a level that the front student would hide him from the teacher. Well, probably would not notice him entering due to the size of the room, the size of the crowd, and the poor lighting.


    Doctor Adamson kept on discussing. There wererge screens in front of the students, behind the teacher. As the teacher waved his hand, the pictures came to life, holographic constructs now bing real emerging beside Adamson. Lance was awed by the spectacr presentation, as if he was watching a movie, full of animations, but it was about Adamson''s lesson.


    However, looking at the students they did not flinch even. They took notes instead using their digital tabs.


    Adamson was good at capturing the audience. He was humorous. ''So this is school,'' Lance thought.


    He had little regard of the school grounds as he entered the premises. He even disregarded the beautiful and artificial parks at the externalndscaped grounds of the school.


    There wererge statues lined up, towering over a five-story lengthy structure of the school. The student scientists past him like he was a ghost. Nobody knew him which was his intention.


    He hoped that such fame would be used as leverage for his conversation with Doctor Adamson after his ss. Adamson looked approachable, with his white tunic uniform of professors, clean-shaved face, and a positive aura that came with his smiles. He moved about arge tform, pointing to the holographic images being shown in front of the students. Everybody listened.


    He had captivated the audience, his students, including Lance.


    "Ah¡­ What do we have here," Adamson stopped lecturing about the equations of energies of each energy-modified cell of a rare-level conductive material. "Let us wee everyone, Mister Berkley, a Mechanic Tier 3 scientist!"

 Chapter 95 Recognition

    High Science Academy, Master Physics ss, BloomForge Enve, Axe Central


    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    "A famous guy in our midst!" Adamson cheered. All heads turned towards the guy at the back. Lance''s heart raced. How could Adamson know that he was lingering behind thest row of students?


    Lance tried to duck his head, hopelessly hiding behind the surprised stares of the students. However, it was futile, they had their targets already.


    "Oh no. You can''t hide, Mister Berkley. This room has sensors and links to my AI. Once you enter this room, your profile will prompt an attendance in my iris imaging." Adamson said.


    He had the same AI as Jasper. However, knowing that he announced it to the ss, it only meant legitimate use of such mobile AI.


    To afford such modification, Adamson could be a Scientist Tycoon, from an already well-known Science professor.


    Unfortunately, Lance did not research about him. He was caught off-guard. There was nothing left to do but to acknowledge the teacher''s praise.


    "A round of apuse everyone. This Scientist right here should be your motivation." Adamson added.


    Faint apuse came from the surprised crowd. Varied expressions emerged from different faces of different age gaps. Some of them might revere him as their motivation. An individual rising from ranks for the shortest time in history. And some of them, perhaps, are jealous of his achievements.


    How can amoner like him achieve such regard from Doctor Zee, the second most famous Scientist to Levi Menks?


    Lance stood after the soft apuse subsided and delivered a curt bow to the professor standing in front of the stage. The strobe lights suddenly shifted to where he stood, they were blinding. Lance covered his vision with his palm on his forehead while faintly glimpsing at the professor.


    "Oh, sorry. Is it too much?" The strobe lights retreated their focus back to the stage with Adamson''s hand gesture.


    "Thank you, Doctor Adamson, for the warm wee," Lance replied. He had no other words for a respectful response.


    "What brings you here in my Master Physics course?"


    "Ahm¡­ I¡­" Lance stammered. His heart raced with the spotlight. He had never been famous before and had never been confronted with surprise attention like what he had now. He wanted darkness to engulf him, hoping to suddenly vanish his true form and back to Steelpoint''s darkest corners.


    In the Scrapyards.


    But he had to face the consequences of being famous, of being targeted by many walks of life, especially science aspirants.


    "Tell us about yourself?" one student from the far left interjected. Before Lance responded, another student intervened. Some of them rose to their feet.


    "What is your intelligence grade level?" Another one questioned.


    "Yes. What is your grade level? Is it five?" A nearer student stood up.


    Some whispered, especially the students that sat near him. "Is he a Commoner?"


    "His pants and his jeans. Yuck!" he overheard her whisper back. They were girls.


    A series of questions were thrown at him so randomly, without any answers fired back at them. Until Doctor Adamson cleared his throat, surpassing the chaotic guffaws of his students.


    Then the ss fell dead silent, and their stares shifted to their professor. Meanwhile, others held their stares to the rising star. Those piercing stares that one would kill you or would praise you.


    Judging from the varied reactions of the his fellow Science aspirants, his disposition was unclear.


    "Maybe, our visitor is tired." Adamson finally said. "We can let him be. If you want, you can maybe sit in for the duration of the lecture. You are wee to join us. Or maybe, you want to stay in my office and wait for me there? Which do you prefer?" Doctor Adamson said.


    His voice was soft but stern. He had this strong and clear ent, carried by a deep manly voice that every student would want to listen.


    "I prefer in your office," Lance responded and hurriedly, ambled outside the room. He released a deep satisfying sigh right after as external air had embraced him. He wiped the cold sweat that loomed on his forehead, his hands shaking uncontrobly.


    ''This is the prize of fame,'' He thought.


    ***


    ''So, this is school,'' Lance thought as he sat in Adamson''s office. He checked his watch again for the third time in less than thirty minutes. ''He''s probably finished by now.''


    He frequently looked at his watch when he was nervous. He could not exin why but something to do with checking something when he felt nervous. But there was nothing to check about. Maybe he was worried about his transaction with Jonaz Enterprises, the Zelkian delivery. The transfer of his Zelkian farm to another location might pose a predicament.


    Not really a predicament but unmistakably another cost of transportation. This is what would happen if the source would relocate further to the point of delivery, additional delivery costs may apply.


    It was better this way than to miss his deliveries to a Mafia.


    He stood up again from the couch set inside Adamson''s office and transferred to the cushioned seat in front for no particr reason. He just wanted to move. It was his third time already. He was like this always inside his room, nonplussed by the pressure of all his ongoing endeavors.


    ''Not easy for a sixteen-year-old kid,'' He thought.


    The door startled his reverie and came in Doctor Adamson. He released a great sigh as he entered, "These lectures sometimes irked me," he said as he sat across the table.


    Lance hauled himself up from the couch set and walked towards Adamson''s table. They had their curt exchange of handshake.


    "What can I do for the rising star of the Corporation?" Adamson offered to let Lance sit across him.


    "Doctor Adamson, I enrolled in your specialized course for Masterworks Energy Sources, but I want an advanced study for me to ace your ss."


    "Hmm? Why? Why do you want to ace the ss?" Adamson asked.


    "Because people look up to me nowadays, expecting me to excel in my courses. And I don''t want them to be disappointed, that''s all." Lance said.


    "I just can''t give my presentations to you, Mister Berkley. It''s like a form of cheating. I know this is your first time to actually enroll in courses in High Science Academy, except for the introductory course you had in SARS. What you are asking is¡­ a bit inconvenient on my part. The rules are strict around here, you know.


    There are many instances¡­" Adamson continued by sharing previous true stories of students who cheated.


    People said that having a course in High Science Academy was like having upgrades for your service robot ¨C to improve your life. Many science aspirants wanted to enroll, however, it implied high tuition costs that only a few mid-ssers could join. The students, the high-ssers, were sons and daughters of high-echelon parents, therefore, corruption was high.


    Many would tend to pay the professors just to achieve high grades.


    So, the Governing Laws Department (GLD) in coboration with the HSA management, established these strict rules to prevent such corruption. Even the room itself had its own attendance monitoring, requiring all enrolled students to physically join the sses.


    "What''s your advice then?" Lance asked.


    "Tell me this. What is your n? Why do you need my lessons in advance? Because our lesson curriculum is broad."


    Lance thought about it how to answer. He could not just disclose about the ultragenerator. It would entail that Lance had acquired illegalponents in attempting to build such powerful equipment. The generator would be rated Masterworks, and such materials used in such rarity were hardly avable to the public, especially to a Commoner like him.


    "I want to build a generator, perpetual. For my mobile equipment. I am building another project for Doctor Zee. You know the confidentiality, so I can''t disclose anything to anyone." Lance responded.


    "Hmmm. Are you sure? Generator? That''s a bit old school. I mean, generators are usually used inrge structures or powering cities or viges. You are going to use it in a mobile robotic equipment?"


    "Yes. The equipment needed a high-capacity Energy source for it to function properly."


    "We are harnessing air pollution now as one of the newly discovered energy sources. Don''t you want to explore that possibility? Or even the use of gravity. Scientists are exploring it now."


    "I am sure Doctor Zee has considered the options, Doctor Adamson. And this is what he requires me to build. A generator."


    "Ok. Ok. Ok." Adamson released a sigh and he smiled. "I am not supposed to give you these but yeah, why not. For Doctor Zee." Admanson typed something on his wrist hologram and transferred it to Lance. "I will give you references of the things you need to know in building one generator and you can look for them in the Archives.


    I''ve heard you frequented your visits there."


    He checked the hologram in his wrist and he got the message from Adamson. He stood up and they shook again and exchanged goodbyes. As Lance walked out of the room, he suddenly felt different, more at ease than before. He had practiced his conversation with Doctor Adamson and it worked, not what he expected but at least he got something substantial. Hopefully.

 Chapter 96 STAR

    His short conversation with Doctor Adamson had a lot to absorb. One of which was the possibility of harnessing air contamination as an Energy source. One of the discoveries that is yet to fall on the News articles.


    "Master, there are no records of a sessful discovery of using contamination as an energy source. There are, however, some projects rted to it. Like Project Nightfall."


    "Is Project Nightfall in your database?"


    "Yes, Master. But it is not essible. Only the lists of rted projects were given but we needed higher authority to ess these files."


    "Who''s authority?"


    "Only to Levi Menks. Actually, Master, all of the projects rted to that discussion were locked in for Levi Menks'' approval."


    "That''s odd, Jasper. That''s really odd. If it''s all confidential, howe Doctor Adamson knew about it? Maybe they are working on a project right now."


    The Science Archives was a structure of five stories up, cylindrical in form, and hollow at the center. The digital archives were filed on racks, from the first to the fifth floor.


    Lance frequented the archives. It somehow gave him peace for a vague rational reason. For him, it''s because he knew that the people crowded in ces like the Archives were there for reading. For nerds and geeks, and for Science aspirants who wanted to do peaceful research, the Archives was suitable.


    The ce was peaceful because it was quiet. But it was never always peaceful, not all the time. Due to the fact that high-ssers also frequented the ce, those achievers. And also those working in the Government wanted to ess documentedws.


    All the works since NWW and ages before that were stored inside the Science Archives. Others called it STAR ¨C STorage ARchives.


    As Lance entered the circr hallway, the natural light filtered through the translucent skylight ss thatprised the roof of the structure. And the light fell like a majestic curtain at the center of the hollow space, encircled by the floor''s terraces thatprised the racking of digital files at the sides.


    The interior was designed to augment the natural lighting from up above and reflect it inside the corners of the levels'' halls with the use of reflective gargantuan mirrors, angled to usher light inside unreachable corners.


    Despite the dark overcast, the translucent ss roofings had somehow bent the light gray color into light yellow, close to beige.


    ''This is heaven,'' Lance thought.


    He craned his head up and saw the fifth floor. He frequented the topmost floor because it held the fewest people. A transparent ss elevator took him to the third floor where Adamson''s references could be found.


    The third floor held a portion of Mechanical Sciences and Physics. All about documented patents of rted fields, news articles, and the knowledge references of the said fields.


    "Jasper, show me the reference guides," Lance said.


    --------------------------------------------------


    [1] Public structures Electric Design and guides.


    [2] Masterwork Equipment Connectivity design


    [3] City Walls Turbine designs


    ---------------------------------------------------


    The third item had given him the cold sting deep in his bones. The one that would squeeze his heart. He knew that when he opened the walls'' designs, he would not find his father''s name in there.


    His father''s name was stripped from the records, making him a traitor. Including his father''s project, Project Nightfall.


    The elevator opened and he let Jasper scan the location of the references.


    "Master, there are a lot of references per item. These are articles and documented works of the Scientists, Authors, and Inventors, that published the references." Jasper said.


    "I know what''re references, Jasper. Just take me to the nearest and the most rted reference."


    "Ok, how about the Mega Structure Electrical design by Civil Engineer S.S. Sk." Jasper suggested, "Rack 65, Group G"


    Lance quickened his pace. A few people were present in the third floor at their respective tables. One woman, her eyes bulging and opened mouth, recognized his face as he hurriedly passed her. However, he disregarded her.


    Then two young male others, sitting down in their chair reading digital tablets, had trained their sights on him as he passed. He just passed them without even a smile.


    He hated being famous. He wanted to live away from the spotlight.


    He weaved through the perfectly straightened Digital Tablet racking. As he hid himself from the crowd behind the towering shelves, he paused and exhaled. His back leaned against the metallic wall.


    He went to the racking content records and searched for Sk''s Documented works.


    The digital tablet showed him where it was ced and proceeded to the far end of the shelf, six racks up. He needed to ride a hydraulic leveler to reach the top. He stood over the tform and switched the equipment on. The rotors whirred smoothly and elevated him gradually to his desired level to reach the Archive tablet.


    A small hatch opened that kept the digital tablet. He scanned the contents as he took it.


    "Jasper, record everything I see."


    The contents were overwhelming. It''s a different field of expertise, most of it unrtable to his stock knowledge. His father had taught him about everything he knew but not in the fields of Civil and Electrical Design Engineering. His father knew the theories, but only little details of application. Schematic diagrams were found on pages of the documents with respective equations and forms.


    Even using theorems that he did not know, or researched before.


    He then recognized the challenge of not having a proper education. Then he cursed.


    ''So much to know,'' Lance thought. Even so, he treated it as a treasure. Every documented knowledge was like Gold for Lance.


    "Wow! This is a bit much!" Lance said. "I can''t study them all. I need you to interpret it for me, Jasper," Lance said.


    "To the best I can, Master." Find exclusive stories on empire


    He then proceeded with the other references. He could notprehend all in one sitting and in one whole day. The information needed to be filtered and interpreted only applicable to his Ultragenerator construction.


    ***


    He then reviewed the files captured.


    --------------------------------------------------------------------


    [1] Electrical Designs from S.S. Sk ¨C The capacity of electric conductive wires should be identified based on the rated capacity of the Infused Electroma connecting to the Energy elerator, then to the Titanium-ted Turbines that will supply power. The thickness and dimension of wires should adhere to the form using the Capacity rate of the generator in terms of MegaJoules.


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------


    Lance would use gold wires but it should be thick enough to support the current and power coursing through the wires and to the turbines, then powering the Infused Electromaic Battery.


    This would prevent the wires from burning. The challenge would be how to find such rare-level Gold wires.


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------


    [2] Masterwork Connectivity Design ¨C The majorponents would emit heat as every energy-holdingponent would. Everyponent should be separated by a powerful instor, Rare to Masterwork level for high-powered engines orponents.


    --------------------------------------------------------------------


    The Obsidian shell of the Abominated Scorpion would perfectly serve its purpose. To his calction, the remaining shells he had in his Condominium were sufficient for the design. Other shells, he already sold and disposed of to Roger in the Market as his ticket in exchange for the Mafia''s information.


    -------------------------------------------------------------------


    [3] Walls'' Turbine design ¨C Masterwork Level Turbine, Titanium made, or stronger, as Energy elerator would force energized electrons to the Turbine''s energy storage, providing an immense amount of stress to the rotating parts. The turbine used inrge structures consuming 50 to 100 MegaWatts should be with model serial codes of XE to XF.


    -------------------------------------------------------------------------


    An XE or XF model turbine would cost him around 15,000 to 30,000 units. He was just hoping that the prison had remnants of its old turbine and only needed the Energy elerator and the Infused Electroma Battery together to make it functional.


    "Master, with all your stored knowledge, you still have an intelligence grade of zero." Jasper mocked.


    "It''s alright, Jasper. What I need now is to procure the materials. I know some of it is in Axiom Trench. I have seen the materials before. I gotta talk to Merchant One again." Lance said.


    "How would you do that Master? The rebels are already outside the walls. You can''t go there on your own," Jasper said.


    "Damian wille, soon. We have our third Zelkian delivery tomorrow." Lance responded.

 Chapter 97 Stories

    The day after.


    ***


    "Damian, we need Handsome to help market these," Lance ced the stic container full of poison bombs. He needed to market the products and sell them at an amenable price. Trenchers knew the effectiveness of the Aiveez nts regarding Abominant repellents, they would surely buy a weaponized Aiveez nectar.


    He hoped.


    "How much are you going to sell each?" Damian responded as he drove the jeep going to Axiom Trench. They detoured this time, essing the outskirts of the Boneyard and to the foot of Trench Hill.


    Their encounter with the Obsidian scorpion had traumatized the kid and also the Specialist.


    "I looking at 50 units each," Lance responded.


    "That''s expensive!" Damian sneered.


    "Ok. What do you think is the price?"


    "35 units the most." He squinted at the back of the passenger seat while he drove the jeep.


    "You think?"


    "Yeah. Trust me, kid. They won''t buy 50 units. Even at 35, they will still negotiate the price."


    "How do you know?"


    "A lot of trade runs, kid. I dealt with a lot of people, bringing people back and forth between Axiom and the City. Even the rifles are priced at 150 units, now. The old and low-powered ones. The electric stun bombs are priced at 30 units."


    "Interesting. You are not a specialist only but also a weapon smuggler too."


    "If you see it like that, kinda. You gotta work and hustle kid to survive. I mean, I am just supportin'' the traders here and there. Many would not want to travel without a Specialist."


    Damian swerved a lot of new roads, sinuous but wide enough to fit the width of the jeep. There were more boulders and rubblepared to before as they took a long cut.


    "How do you know the roads so much?"


    "I told ya before. A lot of runs. After the wars, you know when I worked as a driver in a logisticspany in Bay City, delivering merch to Axe and back."


    "Usually," Damian continued, "the logisticspany routing inter cities are mostly ex-soldiers. They wanted somebody that can defend themselves when encountering Abominants."


    "You are living dangerously, Damian. Aren''t you tired of doing all this and living a life of peace? You know there are a lot of decent jobs inside the surviving cities."


    "If you are in Bay City, you can probably survive. Hey, the pay is good and the employment is better. People from Axe Central are migrating to Bay City because of employment opportunities. Menks'' reach could not touch Bay City. They have their own Corporation there, a branch, but Menks do not control it. You know, the corruption is minimal.


    I have heard stories before, that because millions of people migrated to Bay City, filling the job opportunities, Axe Central became dry of avable manpower. Axe Central experienced a crisis, because of theck of employment. Businesses are closing down,modities are way more expensive than before because they shifted from manpower to automatic robots to do the manufacturing."


    "Year after year, fewer people now are buying the merchandise offered in Axe Central City, however, Bay City is booming. There were no walls before, but the defense system of Bay is tight." Damian continued.


    Now they arrived at the outskirts of Boneyard. A kilometer away, they could see silhouettes of towering structures in an unkempt manner, bathed with dust and grime.


    They felt silent for a moment as Lance trained his eyes on the sprawling rubble that consisted of the Boneyard. Luckily, the road was straight but longer. It would take an additional thirty minutes of travel timepared to traveling at the center of the abandoned municipality.


    "What about the Boneyard? What''s its story?"


    "It was made a temporary refugee camp when Bay City was attacked. People flocked to this ce. We call it before ''Requiem Town''. It''s a funny irony. They called it that because of the service it provides for the evacuees. And now, others say requiem means funeral."


    "How did Bay City fall? If you say they have the best defense system. Were they attacked by the Abominants?"


    "When you are still young, the Abominants were active. They attacked the surviving cities non-stop. However, they can''t prate through the defenses. But, the upkeep of those defenses is very expensive. The bullets. The military personnel, the electricity used inser fences, and everything.


    There is a constant battle, here and there. And the cost of such defenses drained the city budget. That''s when your father thought of designing the walls. He spearheaded the project, I mean, yeah¡­" Damian hesitated as he realized the sensitivity of the topic.


    "So, Bay City is not conquered by the Abominants because of its weak defenses. No. Rumors floated that the Axe Central Government and high-echelons who wanted control sabotaged the defenses secretly for even two days. Thesers were gone. There were tower power outages. Everything was in chaos at the borders. Discover stories at empire


    Now, the Abominants had found the perfect opportunity to attack. A horde. That''s when Bay City fell. Jefferson was there. He was a Major of the Defense Military. He knew the stories.


    But there was no evidence of the said sabotage."


    "So it means that Axe Central destroyed Bay City because of Jealousy?" Lance asked.


    "Yes. And because of control. Axe Central was losing control. The economy worsened ever before. You know, Jefferson''s theory, the more money you have, the more control you can harness. And Axe''s budget is fading to nothingness, bing dead.


    Thus, control is also fading from their hands. And the goodies in Bay City, the governor, was blinded by the fact that Axe Central was nning for his fall. Your father fled to Axe Central City, without hints of the sabotage, and then presented the concept of walls. They partnered with Menks on that project. Then it started. Your father''s death started with Menks."


    Lance felt silent. He felt a diforting sting through his heart, and tears welling up behind his eyeballs. He doesn''t want to cry. He did not, though.


    "Hey!" Damian said. "Your father wanted peace above everything else. He wanted security from the monsters. He probably knew the stories that is why he became one of us, but he needed the resources from the Corporation and the Government."


    "Now, it''s time for them to pay." Lance clenched his fists.


    "Easy there, cowboy. We are getting there. Jefferson told me that you are the key. Well, I believe in you, kid. I believe in your cause. You are a vessel on your own, independent from the persuasions of the Rebels.


    I support you, kid, more than I support Jefferson. Joe and George, too, share the same principle. So, you better not be faltered with anything, kid. We are here to support you."


    Lance only smiled. With that statement, pressure had umted upon his shoulders. His belief never faltered from the foundations it built. Never falter. Never doubt. His father taught him motivation, too.


    They entered the dead forest. It was 1400 H. No problem for any risk of Abominants, as they believed.


    "What is that?" Lance asked. His sight fell on a heavy fog of dust, wafting almost motionless to the air, beyond the sprawling dead trees due west. The overcast was darkened, like a fire had been growing at the boundaries of a dead forest.


    "Why? What did you see?" Damian slowed down their jeep and found what Lance had seen.


    "Marching?" Lance said.


    "Marching? Abominants? Impossible."


    Lance confirmed his time again. 1400 H in the afternoon.


    "It happens all the time. The dead forest''s boundaries are beside mountains, casting a shadow from its peaks. Within the shadow area, the Abominants move on their own without direction. Just to scavenge food."


    "So, we have nothing to worry about?"


    "No. The roads we took are far away from the shadows. No Abominants could reach us."


    "But the volume of the dust seemed to be battle formations," Lance said.


    "Probably. It''s Demetrian season so, they are more active. Can you feel the wind?"


    "Yes. Bit cold, I guess," Lance responded.


    "You know Abominants hated the heat of the sun, even a single ray could damage their skin. I don''t know why. Maybe you know. Scientists are experimenting with this kind of phenomena."


    At 1600 H, they reached Axiom Trench.


    It was Lance''s fourth time to visit the Trench but it was his first time to witness such a crowd. The noise and the heaving people were like celebrating something of a feast.


    "What is this?" Lance spoke loudly, oveing the guffaws of the crowd to Damian, as the heavy metallic doors opened, and they were greeted with people wearing different colors, different fashion scents, and different faces.


    "It''s Demetrian season next month, so they are preparing for the winter. Supplies, Lance. They need to fill every bucket they have of food and water."


    "I haven''t experienced Demetrian season outside the walls. What is it like?" Lance asked.


    "Blood bathe, kid. Death."

 Chapter 98 Acquisition

    Chapter


    The Axiom Trench delighted with people from different ces. Knowing the nearing of Demetrian Season, the Outsiders panicked with variousmodities they ced in their bags.


    One man had a cart full of six water jugs, containing at least 50 liters each. His four male kids helped him drag the cart around as their father purchased heavy piles of canned goods. A woman beside him, probably the man''s wife, hugged a stic full of spices and vegetables.


    The gically modified vegetables that the nters acquired during illegal trades inside the surviving cities were used for farming. Lance had a few tastes of those vegetables ¨C feverfew leaves, Twilight sprouts, and Aphrom beans, they tasted like stic. The advantage of acquiring modified vegetables is because of their price. Meat and canned goods were pricier than vegetables.


    One fascinating mother, who had two children beside her, gathered weapons hanging on her shoulder. And two small rifles too for each of her children. She bought ammo, a box full of them, from the neighboring merchant near Merchant One''s stall.


    Lance was surprised by the sight, captivated by it, which somehow had provided him the worry. He suddenly thought about hoarding supplies too for the Demetrian Season. Luckily, the panic hoarding only applies to the Outsiders where the trade travels were minimal as it implied safety among the traders.


    The Axiom Trench offered wide variations of goods and by analyzing it, there was a wide world of Outsiders thriving and farming outside the City walls, and their traded goods fell in one major marketce ¨C the Axiom Trench.


    "Have you ever been to one of the Outsider Encampments?" Lance asked Damian as they walked side-by-side.


    "Yeah, for numerous times already. I don''t just carry traded goods in Trench, I carry them also in Encampments." Damian answered.


    "What is it like there? The encampments."


    "You can''t imagine kid. You can see utter difort. You will pity the children the most. And the constant risk of Abominant attack is there. They can''t sleep peacefully."


    "We are lucky to live inside the walls."


    Calcting the possibility of such risk of Outsiders, was beyond Lance''sprehension. He never visited one of the Outsider''s encampments before.


    "We are lucky in that sense. The sense of safety. But being a rebel like us, we are never safe. Jefferson had this mission for us, more on infiltrations which pose a greater risk of capture from the police."


    "Infiltrations? What do you gain from it?"


    "Mostly espionage and sabotage. Jefferson suspected that the City''s budget had somehow allocated to a more sinister weapon. And of course, we are trying to cripple the police form slowly." Discover hidden content at empire


    They reached Merchant One''s stall.


    "Oh, it is the famous band of foolish brothers!" Merchant said after he attended an old man who bought a box of locally grown cigars.


    "Merchant, your business is booming nowadays," Lance said with a smile even though knowing that the senior Trencher had a bitter expression. Lance used to tease Merchant like he teased Roger from the market.


    "Booming! Nah, you got it wrong, kid. Merchants increased our prices because the supply is decreasing. The farmers tend to trade themselves from other neighboring encampments. Foolish, stupid! Those feckers!


    They are just destroying the trade values of merch!" Merchant ranted.


    "What do you mean? I mean, look at you. There are a lot of people around here."


    "Yes. But They are just buying in Axiom nowadays if they cannot find any more supplies outside. The Trench is now the secondary trade center of Outsiders. Foolish people did this. They don''t know the consequences."


    Lance knew that in trading, unregted trade centers such as the Outsiders could disrupt the merchandise retail pricing. The Outsiders tend to buy outside, direct to farmers, and the Trench to acquire cheaper merchandise.


    "There must be somebody that can regte it,"


    "There is no helping it, kid. If you live long enough, you''d know that it''s hopeless¡­ Ok. I got a lot of customersing in, what do you need?"


    "Energy elerator!" Finally, the equipment was only a matter of a few transactions, and he could already acquire it.


    Merchantughed hard. "I know you foolish!"


    "Well, do you still have it or not?"


    Merchant smirked once again, a small snot umted on his upper lip. "Ok. Ok. 4000 units!"


    "What! You said months before that''s 3000 units!" Lance retorted.


    "All prices are increasing, kid. Including your Energy elerator."


    Lance knew that Merchant only took advantage because of the season. However, the Energy elerator was not a Commodity.


    "It''s not even amodity, Merchant. C''mon. You gotta be kidding me."


    Merchant held his deathly stare towards the kid. His fists sped the edge of his disy table, and his eyes bulged toward him.


    "You gotta face it, kid. You can''t get one of these here in Trench."


    "How about a bundle then?


    Lance saw buckets full of metallic scraps, allmon levels from the looks of it. Rusty metals filled the buckets. Screws, bolts, rods, and others.


    "Bundle? What do you mean, kid? You probably daydreamin''."


    "I will ept the 4000 units of Energy elerator if you give me that," Lance pointed to Common-level materials that were unkemptly piled against the wall at the far back of the store.


    "Why? Nobody wanted those!" Merchant said as he squinted to where Lance pointed.


    "How much does that weigh?" Lance asked.


    "150 kilos maybe, or more."


    "Give me the elerator for that price and those 150 kilos of metal scrap. It will unclutter your space. I know you like it when these slow-moving items move."


    Merchant unsped his fists from the table and sauntered to the piles of scrap, and stared at them for a long awkward silence. It was equivalent to his height and wingspan. He shook his head upon looking at it. He looked at his other racks that held his other items, and they were almost exhausted. He shook his head again. Somehow, the inventory replenishments did note.


    Merchant cursed again.


    "So?" Lance asked.


    "Ok, kid. You got a deal." Merchant responded as he turned back to the kid.


    Lance dealt it with a bundle as a Scrapper he could turnmon-level materials into a marketable one just by fabrication. The 150 kilograms of scrap materials could be cleaned from rust back to their original state and removed from unnecessary stics that mixed with the metallic materials, then market them to SteamHaven''s metal-forgingpanies.


    Probably Ultrasteel for he had his recent dealings when he was a TOR.


    His estimate, for the 150 kg of scrap materials, he could mize them for about 350 to 500 units. From his assessment, just his first look, he could fabricate the scraps into refined Common-level metal scraps for 2 units per kilogram. Forgers would melt these kinds of metal and process them into any desirable form.


    "Where can I find impure gold?" Lance asked to the annoyed Merchant. A wave of customers swarmed him again, and he answered them so fast and dealt with them so deftly, exchanging units like there was no need for mathematics.


    "Kid? Gold, you say?" He said simultaneously speaking to one of his customers asking for a hunting knife, heat powered. Merchant had a lot of ded weapons, includingser knives, mini swords, and even daggers.


    ''Bloodbath,'' Lance thought about the Demetrian season.


    "Yes, the impure ones. The grade that we used in wirings," Lance said.


    "Ah. Umon Gold. Impurity fifty." Merchant said.


    "Do you have impurity forty?" Lance asked.


    The impurity number depicted the amount of impurity percentage in gold. The closer to pure gold the better but would entail a greater price.


    "It would cost yah." Merchant said.


    "How much?"


    "200 units per kilo for impurity forty gold," Merchant said.


    As expected, Trenchers would increase the price at anything.


    "Not again, Merchant! We are buying impurity forty for about 150 units per kilogram inside the City," Lance sneered.


    "Ha. Ha. Ha. I told you, kid. Demetrian season ising. The higher the prices ofmodities the higher prices of everything else.


    You know Diesel nowadays increased 10% of its price? That''s absurd of a price hike, kid. Absurd! Those feckers wanted to control everything."


    There was truth about it as also Damian told him about Diesel prices. They would drain the Rebel''s reserves during the Demetrian season as their major fuel for their generator in the prison.


    "Master, scanning avable units," Jasper whispered.


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------


    [Currency] ¨C 13,500 units


    Travel Objective: Acquire Energy elerator ¨C 4000 units


    Acquire Impure Gold bs for wiring ¨C 800 units


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------


    "Ok. Done, Merchant. I need four kilograms. That''s 800 units right?"


    "Yes. Yes. Pay me faster, I have a lot of customers waiting." Merchant hurriedly went back to his storage room with another Trencher kid to get the Energy elerator.


    "That would be 4800 units all in all," Merchant said with a smile after he ced the Energy elerator in front of Lance.


    He was closer now to the assembly of his Ultragenerator. What he would work on was the acquired knowledge for such assembly.

 Chapter 99 Revelations

    They stayed the night. The seer had given them amodations in her wide tent. They slept on the barren floor - brown sand and pointy pebbles. At least they had their cushionedforters of one inch thick.


    The Seer had a tick cushioned bed, draped with cloth-like stic, the fine kind that High ssers had. She had a lot of fine tunics, antiquities such as Jars and pots, and even wooden sculptures. They cost a fortune as Lance estimated. These antiques, especially therge wooden sculpture would cost about 1500 units. That''s a fortune for many.


    She had a one long upright rectangr block of perfectly edged wood, made of Hardened Tugas standing beside her bed. Even though the wood sculpture had no designs, however, what made it beautiful was the definition of brown-shade colored rings bending perfectly like waves along its surface.


    Lance never left his eyesight to the caged Abominated Dogs near the entrance that barked so fearsomely when people would enter the tent. She called her Skorgarz¡ª hideous abominated dog hybrid with domesticated animals like cats.


    It annoyed him the slurping of tongues as they licked their bodies. It''s kind of a cat thing, but they originated from dogs.


    "How do you think your father died? I know it''s a sensitive subject but I would like to know." Seer said as she started to cleanse her feet with a bucket of water as she sat at the edge of her bed. "They say knowing the truth sometimes would set you free. I don''t believe in that quote, a lot of people were incarcerated by telling the truth. The Truthseekers, the rebels, they are not free."


    She continued massaging her feet as cold water bathed both her feet. Brown dust that sped her soles was drained to the bucket.


    Lance started to settle himself into his bed. Damian was near him. The subject somehow was sensitive to him but feltfortable talking about it with his close individuals such as Damian.


    "An Abominant mauled him when he escaped," Lance said. "It was in the News."


    "What did the news tell the people about your father?"


    "A traitor. He died escaping from the police and eventually killed himself by a horde of monsters. Nobody mourned for him, only me. His trusted friends died too, when Bay City was attacked."


    "Really? That''s funny." The Seer''s tone had deeper mystery behind her statement.


    "How did he die?" Lance asked.


    "It''s time for you to know, kid."


    "Know what?"


    Seer did not answer immediately. Damian hauled himself from sleep and sat on his cushioned bed. The Seer wiped her feet with remnants of clothing and dried them. Layers of long tunic were removed from the Seer''s body, revealing a bandaged body and her bionic device that connected to her pelvis down to her thigh and knees. It supported her movement.


    Even though, it was Lance''s second time to witness such perfection, it felt always his first time.


    The noise of Outsiders was still perceptible outside their tent. Traders would sleep inside the Trench just to pass on the night and would leave the Trench after the break of dawn.


    "It''s a sensitive matter, and you deserve to know everything." She smoothened her beddings andboriously dragged herself to the center of her bed, covering her body with the long drapes of curtains that fell from the ceiling and grazed the barren ground.


    "It was not how he died, Lance. He was not mauled by monsters."


    That statement had bolted his senses.


    "Come again?" Lance asked, his voice raised.


    "He became one of them. Transformed into a creature. He said he was exposed for a long time working on the Project called Nightfall. They experimented Abominants, somehow the contamination from those creatures had infected him, and some others in the project."


    "Don''t joke about it, Seer!" Lance hauled himself up, his hands clenched. "My father died as a man. Not a monster!"


    "I wish I could tell you that, kid. But you deserve the truth. Your father became one of them and for years, he did not resurface back."


    Lance sobbed. "It''s not true." He whispered and turned to Damian. Thetter was also clueless as stered on his expression.


    "It started with an itch on his skin. On his back. He showed it to me, the infection. It grewrger andrger every day, ckening his skin like reptile scales. His eyes turned yellowish, gradually, of course. It was after Menks had double-crossed him."


    "Nightfall was a sess." The Seer continued. "He said to me. He wanted to continue his work and it would discredit Menks. However, time was against him. He was slowly turning into one of them, a monster."


    Lance sobbed and whispered, "Stop. All lies."


    He wiped his tears from his welling eyes. His knees shivered with the revtion. It devastated his heart. His father''s humanity was destroyed, first, for being a traitor to humanity. Then secondly, he had be an Abominant. It was devastating, the thought of it.


    "You must know, kid. You must know every detail. And you should face the hard truth. This will harden you, kid. To the bones. To your flesh. Your next chapter is on empire


    It will fuel your rage and anger towards the people who did this to your father. Disgraced his name like garbage. He was the true hero of humanity by building the walls, but Menks wanted fame and control. Menks wanted Erik dead."


    Lance burst into tears; his knees dug against the barren ground. Sharp pebbles pierced his kneecaps but he felt no pain. The news had ovee the searing pain.


    "For after a few weeks. He could not control or heal his infection. It grew day by day. Eating his human flesh and making him a monster. He could see in the dark at first, and the extreme hunger had eaten his humanity. He stayed here in Axiom Trench for months.


    But he could not take it. He ran away and never returned."


    "That''s enough."


    The Seer''s voice had never been affected by Lance''s sobs and cries. The Seer wanted the boy to grow with the truth about his father and not anymore be blinded.


    "What Erik told me, kid. In Bay City lies the key. The key to his project. He hid them so that no one could alter or discover them. He wanted you to discover it."


    Lance''s cries had subsided. He surpassed the pain but still lingered like needles piercing his heart. "Where in Bay City?"


    "In your apartment. In your original home, Lance." Seer said.


    "Why did you not tell me earlier?" Lance sneered.


    "It''s not the right time, kid. You had to be strong about this. He does not want you to decide so immaturely and try to repower Bay City with your Ultragenerator. He wanted you to learn the trade first, and strengthen yourself. And now, you are there. Your foot had stepped on the waters and felt a little bit of fame and the Corporation''s trust.


    It was the n. He had been training you to be one."


    Then the Seer retreated to her sleep, behind the drapes that covered her bed. Lance hugged his knees and thought about everything revealed to him. Then silence fell inside the tent.


    "Kid, are you alright?" Damian asked.


    Lance did not answer.


    "Listen, the Seer is right¡­." Damian was interjected.


    "Have you seen Bay City now?" Lance asked.


    "Ah yeah. We attacked it before it became a nest. The Government tried to revive it but it was toote."


    "How can we stop the hive? How can we drive them out of the City?"


    "We can''t kid. They already have nested there for years. They probably have a queen of their own."


    "Queen?"


    "Yes. Queen. Every hive has one. It''s an Abominated human. The mutation was so fast that they suddenly have leaders of their own."


    "It''s not possible." Lance retorted.


    "I have heard rumors, kid. The Science Corporation had been experimenting with humans that were infected by the Contamination. And with science, I don''t know, maybe had let evolution out of hand and made the queen."


    "Experiments? Who would do such a thing?"


    "Higher ups of the Corporation. They call themselves the Vicious Circle. Jefferson had told me about it. They sanctioned the experiments. Human experiments. And it went nuts, you know.


    Now, the Abominants can think. They can strategize. Thanks to these morons."


    "Vicious circle. I have heard the council had told me about it, and Jaqi''s mother too."


    "We can''t expose them. They controlled everything. Even the poption. We are battling hunger every day, kid. The rebels have been smuggling food inside the walls, not only for the rebel members but to the Commoner''s market. We keep the people alive.


    We can''t rely upon these fat cats for the supplies for the city. They only served their kind."


    "Can we kill the queen? The hive would be disoriented."


    "We can''t solve problems on our own, kid. We focus on taking down the Corporation."


    "Yes, we can take down the Corporation by the Project Nightfall. Seer said it would discredit Menks."


    "How can we do that, kid? I can''t imagine. Jefferson would not spend resources on wiping out a Hive. We can''t do that. Even the full army could not do it."


    "Can you take me at least to my home in Bay City?"


    "Where is it?"


    "Sector 14, Neb Sector."


    "I can take you there. But no! It''s too dangerous."


    Lance smiled at that.


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    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 100 Attack

    Lance and Damian headed back to Axe Central in the afternoon the day after. The Energy elerator and kilos of impure gold were at the back of their jeep.


    "What is your n, really?" Damian asked.


    "I will build the Ultragenerator for the prison," Lance responded.


    "Then, what''s next?"


    "My grand n is to revive Bay City. If there is something we can use to take down Menks and the Corporation."


    "But how are you going to do that? We can''t just take out the hive on our own. We don''t have enough firepower for that. Not even the full might of Axe Central City."


    "If we can''t do it. At least take me to my home and we will retrieve something that I can use."


    "That''s suicide, kid. Abominants are everywhere. We can''t just sneak into the hive and get something and go home unscathed."


    Their argumentsted for minutes to hours. They took the same route back the same way they came to Axiom Trench. After the Dead Forest, and the Trench Hill, they entered the outskirts of the Boneyard. Lance found something of familiarity.


    "The dust again!" Lance said watching above the dead structures of the Boneyard.


    "Yeah. That''s strange. It''s heading to Axe Central," Damian said.


    "What is heading there?"


    "I am not actually sure. But I found it like this when we battled against the monsters. This is how the horde moves."


    "Abominants? That''s not good, Damian."


    "Could be the Abominated Human had led them. He knew the passage tunnels. He probably followed us to the outside."


    "This is bad, Damian. We have to alert the people." Experience tales at empire


    "I don''t think we can outrun them. Even though it''s still daylight, they are still moving?"


    "The boneyard provides shadows from the tall structures. Then they will wait for the night to attack the city. The Abominant human is probably leading them."


    Damian floored the elerator pedal pushing the engine roared ferociously. Lance thought about the only weapon that could handle a horde. His poison bombs. Luckily, he did not sell everything in Axiom Trench.


    Lance was worried about the Commoners¡ªthe coteral damage of this never-ending war. The dust smoke was nearing the direction where the City would be. And as they reached the end of the tall structures, the horde stopped and the dust settled.


    Their jeep continued to rage against rocky terrain.


    "Who are we going to alert?"


    "Everyone. Help me move the Southern wall people to evacuate. The horde will enter the Southern tunnels." Lance suggested.


    "Let me handle the people, you alert the police. We need every firepower to stop them. How many poison bombs do you have?"


    Lance squinted back to their box where his poison bombs were stored and estimated the number.


    "About 30 bombs. I have at home in Hypervista around 20 bombs."


    "I think that will suffice. You need to travel fast to your condominium and bring everything to the Southern wall."


    Lance thought about the rebels. They would be of great help in this crisis. Unfortunately, they were out of the picture. Damian was the only rebel present.


    "The wall''s defenses would do the trick, I hope," Lance said.


    "Don''t bank on that. The defenses are useful if there is no passage through the tunnels. Thesers won''t suffice."


    They hurriedly entered the tunnels and exited with non-stop sprinting. They don''t have time to talk to each other, only their unceasing breathings. The time of the Abominants'' attack would be 1800 H, as daylight retreats from the horizon.


    Lance squinted to his time ¨C 1715Hn/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    There was no time.


    Damian hurriedly went to the market near Steelpoint where most people heaved. Lance went directly to the bullet train terminal and bound for Hypervista.


    He watched his time once again ¨C 1735 H.


    The daylight had receded. The horde probably now started to exit the boneyard and headed to the city.


    As he reached the Hypervista Sector, he hastily proceeded to the nearest police station.


    He ran from the station for five minutes from the Hypervista terminal. He pushed the ss doors open of the precinct 20 without a regard of courtesy. He approached the nearest officer on his desk, slouched with feet on his table.


    "Officer. I am Lance Berkley. You need to dispatch police officers to the Southern Wall Steelpoint. An Abominat horde ising!" He gasped with air, his words almost inaudible.


    "What? What are you talking about, kid?" The office retorted, his fat cheeks moving as he gobbled a chunk of burger.


    "You need to respond to an iing attack!"


    "We can''t be attacked, boy. The walls are imprable!"


    "No! They can attack us inside the tunnels," Lance seemingly screaming every word he uttered.


    "What tunnels? Is this a prank kid?"


    Lance watched the station''s digital clock right above the officer''s desk. It said 1550 H.


    "There is no time!"


    Lance exited the police station despite the officer calling him to stop. To his condominium would be a five-minute run. He thought about Damian and the Commoners, hoping that they probably evacuate. However, he was positive. Damian was known by Roger in the market, and Roger was known by the marketgoers. Probably, they had evacuated.


    There was nothing he could do but think about it positively. He reached his condominium and immediately grabbed another twenty poison bombs inside a bag. He exited his home as fast as he could. The moment he stepped out of the building, the Emergency rm went off, ring annoying sounds throughout the city.


    Lance was halted by his steps, "It''s starting." Then he continued his pace and sprinted towards the nearest terminal.


    Police announced repeatedly in all city speakers nearby! "Attention all Citizens! Please seek shelter as soon as possible. This is not a drill."


    The people at first did not budge as the announcements went on. People only nced at the billboards waiting for the kind of emergency.


    But as soon as the digital billboards showed a distorted video of a swarming Abominants entering the Southern wall. The people panicked like it was the end of the world. The citizens were clearly traumatized by the previous wars and banking on the guarantee that the walls could stop Abominant attacks.


    Even on the train, the people inside were agitated. The internal announcements still went on and on. Small explosions could be heard even from inside the bullet train. Passengers heaved the left side of the train to where the smoke loomed. Gunshots emerged and the police on hovercrafts passed by above the train. Another explosion shook the ground.


    "Howe? They can''t enter with the walls present!" one older citizen said.


    "Is it the end of us?" A younger citizen asked his parents.


    Lance was not prepared for what would happen. He could not estimate the number of creatures attacking the city. He nced through the transparent window and thesers from the watch towers flickered as it fired. Electric stun bombs were detonated as a web of electricity seemed to reach the dark overcast.


    There were screams everywhere, not only inside the bullet train but also in far corners of the affected sector. Hovercrafts above themotion shone light below them.


    As they entered the Steelpoint terminal, police officers and robotic police were stopping the people from disembarking and controlling the disorderly fashion ofmoners who wanted to escape the Steelpoint district via bullet train. The chaos was uncontroble. The police could not handle such a volume of Commoners who wanted to barrage to safety out of Steelpoint. There was chaos everywhere.


    People were shouting and screaming. Most of the girls cried.


    Lance could not get out inside the bullet train. The heaving people pushed him way further back to the end of the train, farther than the entrance. He was trapped inside the bullet train. People were bundled shoulder to shoulder and back-to-back. Lance could not force himself out, even though with his height, he could not just elbow people in the face just to pass through.


    "Excuse me! I want to get out!" Lance screamed but nobody listened.


    There was only one solution for him to escape the overwhelming number of people ¨C by the use of shock and awe.


    Lance took out one of his poison bombs from his bag and threw it above their heads inside the cabin. The poison bomb exploded, and the people ducked their heads to their knees. The blue mist had filled the train. That''s when Lance hopped on the emaciated people, leveraging the benches'' arms for his feet to escape.

 Chapter 101 Attack 2

    Steelpoint District became a warzone. Smoke filled the air, looming over half of Steelpoint district. In panic, people were running in random directions as long as they went farther to where the gunfire sparked. The wails of the people, bathed with trauma and utter fear, had filled the atmosphere.


    Lance had never seen such many hovercrafts flying overhead since the Wolf''s attack. The exhausted fumes from those flying machines drenched the atmosphere with a metallic smell. The familiar scenery gave him the goosebumps. The gunfire and the screams became louder as Lance sprinted towards the heart of the ruckus. asional people moved passed him in the opposite direction.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Where are you going, boy?" His old neighbor called on him. He did not remember his name but he knew him since he lived in the cabins.


    He disregarded the old man.


    His breath had betrayed him, and his heart pounded as hard as it could, weakening his steps and stamina as he pressed further. The air was like needles now as smoke emitted by theser heaving the atmosphere. Thesers smelled like burned rubber, filling his lungs and piercing his nostrils.


    Then a cry cracked behind a building. Lance responded to it and found a woman, her back leaning against the wall, wounded on her shin and blood pooled around her caused by a bite mark that almost tore her whole leg apart.


    "Please help me," the woman cried.


    Lance helped the woman walk as she dragged her foot against the concrete ground.


    "You need immediate help, miss," Lance said.


    He took her to the nearest establishment and luckily, a few other citizens cowering behind a nearby salon amodate the wounded woman.


    "She needs help!" Lance said. He saw their faces of the trauma that defined of the stories of how the surviving cities fell from the hands of the monsters.


    The woman thanked him as the people received her. Lance immediately went back outside the salon and into inconspicuous corners, avoiding possible police detection.


    He slowed his pace as the growls of the Abominated grew stronger, overpowering the sounds ofser beams. He could hear the Abominants'' steps against the ground as they defiled the city.


    Police barricades, from Zone 5 to the residential zones, to the scrap yard Tier 1, encircled the attacked site. He could not go past the police barricades without being caught. Fortunately, he had lived in Steelpoint for years and knew the ins and outs of every block. He was able to avoid the barricades undetected and press further deep to where the battle transpired.


    Lance passed through dark narrow streets in between structures, to sinuous passages, until he reached three blocks from where the tunnels would be. He could hear his heart thumping fast even without witnessing one Abominant yet. The feeling brought him back to the attack of the Salt Caravan. The feeling of uneasiness and uncertainty.


    He felt the weight on his bag with twenty poison bombs grow heavier each second. He had been itching to use them. He thought about Damian if he used the bombs effectively with the maximum kill.


    Thesers brighten the gloomy and dark sector, like fireworks. The police had been stationed on the roads pressing hard against the attacking groundlings. At the back of those barricades, Lance took a peek from behind a building and witnessed the gory scenery of dead Abominants. ck miasmic blood bathed the ground. Human police and robots gathered at full might.


    A few dead police officers were on the ground and attended with robotic medics. One robot dragged a wounded police officer to safety behind the barricades.


    Another thunderous explosion emerged shaking the ground below Lance''s feet. It was a three-story building this time. He could hear debri falling from that height, rubble crashing to concrete.


    ''The Abominants had infiltrated the nearby structures,'' he thought.


    He had never seen such a number of police forces popting in one sector. Hovercrafts swarmed above them like mosquitos, casting strobe lights to the ground.


    asional shrieks from dead Abominants could be heard.


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    Lance hoped that the police force might be sufficient for the attacking horde. Lance heard gunshots at the far end, a few blocks away from where he prowled.


    ''They are everywhere.'' Lance thought.


    Cold sweat had drenched his shirt. He was praying that no Abominant could smell him.


    The fortunate ones were riding the hovercrafts, groundlings could not reach them. They used this advantage so effectively, hovering over the misdirected swarm of Abominants that ran along the streets.


    He wished he could ride one hovercraft and throw his poison bombs from above. But he could not ride one without being caught.


    As he pressed further deep, he found himself behind another barricade, barbed wire, spiky ramming blockades filled the expanse of the street. They mounted a machine gun behind the barricade. This was two blocks from where the Abominants had infiltrated. The number of dead police officers increased as he overheard police officersmunicated via their opts.


    The length of the street was painted with ck blood and dead groundlings piled on the ground. The walls had been scarred with thesers and stun grenades.


    "Ready, men! Theye in waves," One officer said to hisrades while re-energizing their weapons with their batteries and lining up to the barricade.


    "They areing your way," A voice cracked from one of their opts.


    "Ready!" The officer once againmanded hisrades.


    The growls emerged once again and a tidal wave of groundlings came without the fear of death filled the street. Their stomps were like thunder, and salivating rabid creatures attacked in full might. Moreover, what was more fearsome were the level 2 Abominants the crawled on the structures that came with the attack wave.


    "Fire!" The officer shouted. The avable weapons of that barricade had fired simultaneously, aiming at random directions. Thesers painted the dark sector with bluish light. Stun grenades were thrown and exploded at the iing groundlings. Seemingly, the iing monsters were not discourages with the weapons that faced them.


    "Keep firing, men!" The officer screamed. Dead creaturesically filled the street.


    But from the looks of it, it was hopeless. In a few seconds, the barricade would be run down by the attacking monsters, killing ten police officers in the process. It was the opportune moment that Lance had been waiting for.


    The use of his poison bombs.


    Lance went out from where he hid and sprinted behind the barricades. He took two bombs held by both hands. He threw them over the lined police men and the metallic ball bounced to the ground and into the feet of the nearing groundlings. Then, they exploded. The blue cloud filled the block and the growls were silenced so immediately after a few seconds.


    Then, Lance threw again two poison bombs much farther this time as he tried to target at the back. It was his first time that he wanted to save the lives of the police officers.


    "What is that?!" The officers shouted and looked for the source behind them. Other continued firing aimlessly through the blue translucent mist. The stomping discontinued and there was silence after a few seconds.


    All attacking groundlings were found dead as the blue mist subsided, burning ckened flesh and ck miasmic blood filled the air.


    As the hungry growls were reced by dying shrieks, the police officers knew they were saved.


    The policemen were saved and their eyes had captured their savior.

 Chapter 102 Second Visit

    The poison bombs won the skirmish. All groundlings infiltrated a few city blocks and were immediately killed by it. The police officers used them and passed them on to those who used the hovercraft and that''s how the Abominants were defeated.


    After the attack and the blue mist had settled after the dead Abominants evidently defeated by the newly discovered weapon, darkrge trucks filled the streets.


    Men in full-body anti-radiation suits filled the scene, with their radiation-sensing apparatus and sample canisters. These canisters were used to collect organic samples.


    ''Experimenting Abominant flesh again,'' Lance thought as these men collected on the dead remnants of these creatures.


    They hauled the dead groundlings inrge anti-contamination trucks. The ones with an airlock system that no air could seep out. They vacuumed the dust that came from burned flesh.


    About five blocks of Steelpoint became a bloodbath. The media had not yet released the number of casualties.


    Well, maybe the media won''t disclose the casualties yet because they were still counting.


    Lance sat on the corner, witnessing the clean-up activity of the men in suits. The battle was won over an hour, thanks to his poison bombs. He wondered about Damian. ''Did he use the poison bombs? Or maybe escaped because of the police presence.''


    ''Where is he?'' He was worried now.


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    It may have prevented some deaths. With the battle this scale, he could not evenprehend the level of destruction that the monsters had caused. Smoke came from numerous buildings and was being extinguished by fire hovercrafts that used pressurized chemicals to extinguish persisting mes.


    Finally, the Media came with their vans. News One. The men and women in ck suits skittled towards the wounded and exhausted police officers trying to extract information as fast as they could.


    Citizens gathered to random ces, trying to scoop information about the skirmish or witness the battle''s aftermath.


    Other citizens went looking for their lost family members or asked for information about the dead. The police were still disarrayed. Even the battle has ended, the chaos persisted.


    "Jasper, talk to me." Lance said.


    "Master?"


    "Can you scan Damian?"


    "My scans cannot capture Damian, Master. But local news had aired that the police had a man in custody."N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "What''s the reason?"


    "Police found him using the poison bombs. They are specting of a weapon smuggling activity as the poison bombs were not yet regted by the Government and the Corporation."


    "What precinct?"


    "Precinct 13," Jasper responded.


    One police officer stood above him casting a shadow on the exhausted boy.


    "Kid, although you saved our lives, it is my duty to question the weapon that you used. What do you call it? The poison bombs?"


    "Why?"


    "The weapon is not manufactured inside Axe Central. So there is a suspicion of weapon smuggling from the Outsiders." The officer''s voice was calm zed with gratitude over his duty.


    "I will exin. But only in precinct 13." Lance answered and stood up.


    They went inside a transport vehicle, it''s a van type, however, it was arge hovercraft that could carry 20 people inside the cabin. He had no handcuffs though but was guarded by three police officers inside the cabin.


    "We haven''t thanked you yet, kid." One younger officer told him. The three of them were on the barricade where Lance had helped.


    Lance only nodded.


    "If it isn''t with your weapon, we are dead." Another officer said. The other one was rather silent.


    "What will happen to me?" Lance asked.


    "You will be questioned, kid. Of course, based on our protocols. But you are not under arrest. We need answers from you, kid. The head of CBD will question you."


    ''CBD? Customs and Border Defence?'' Lance thought. Jaqi''s father was the head of the said department.


    His mind raced in various possibilities. One of which would help his career and known to be another inventor who invented a weapon that saved thousands of citizens during the attack. Secondly, it would be his doom and be charged with illegal weapon smuggling or manufacturing of illegal weapons unsanctioned and unregistered by the CBD.


    Precinct 13 was just nearby. It was only situated in the neighboring sector of Steelpoint. Their Transportcraft decelerated, the direction of the rotors had shifted beneath their feet causingrge metallic gear frictions, and powered against gravity. Slowly, they descended beside the police precinct.


    "Good luck, kid." The senior officer said as he opened the door. He was led outside the craft apanied by the two police officers behind him and walked towards the station.


    "Tell me about the head of BCD. What is he like?" Lance asked the younger officer.


    "Mister Chester Leric? He scares me, kid. He scares every one of us under the police department. Don''t be fooled by his calm demeanor. He probably is ying with you. Observing you if you are telling the truth or not.


    Some say he is a human lie detector machine."


    The description was enough to know that Chester Leric was a formidable person with power. Probably, the most powerful person in the Government next to the Governor. So, his approach should be truthful. He was not the best in lying, or in creating made-up scenarios in his head that woulde out to his advantage.


    CBD controlled the police department, oversaw the robotic and weapon manufacturing factories, and controlled border entries through the northern and western walls. Probably, it was the only department that did not have budget constraints.


    Lance was ushered inside the station. It was his second time being invited to police stations with probable vitions. The first time made him insted by certain fears that a kid his age should have when apanied by police officers.


    They proceeded inside an interrogation room where he found Damian in handcuffs. Damian smiled at him despite the bruises on his left cheek and right eye.


    "What happened to you?" Lance sat down beside Damian, a table in front of them. The police officers exited the interrogation room and left them inside. The lights were bright on corners facing toward them like they were rabid animals.


    "Bad luck, kid. Why aren''t you in handcuffs?" Damian asked.


    "Don''t know. Maybe because I saved their lives. How did you get here?"


    "Same as you. The use of illegal weapons."


    "Let me handle the talking, Damian. I will get you out of here." Lance assured. "Let me talk to Mister Leric."


    "What? The head of CBD? We are doomed, kid." Damian grunted softly as probably audio devices were imnted inside the room.

 Chapter 103 The Offer

    Lance was unsure of what to feel about Chester Leric. The rebels knew about the Leric''s affiliation with the vicious Circle that curated the very disposition of Axe Central City. He probably had directed the sinister plots of the Government to reduce the poption ¨C the Commoners in particr.


    Damian shared with him about their attack underneath the wall by the SHF. Which the same group orchestrated by the same person, Chester Leric.


    Their heads turned as the door opened and came in an intimidating figure. In a ck suit, fine stic clothing, emting silk,yered with lighter-colored clothing underneath it, clothed a tall and endomorphic body type. His eyebrows were thick and his condescending eyes.


    It was Chester Leric.


    He sauntered inside without uttering a word but only a deep sigh. He sat down across them so elegantly but firmly with how he moved.


    "I am only interested with the bombs you used during the attack. Who can exin it to me?" Chester said with a deep, authoritative voice.


    Evidently, the head of CBD did not want to waste time. He went straight to the point, even without introduction.


    "Mister Leric, I am Lance Berkley, a newly promoted Mechanic Tier 3 endorsed by Doctor Zee. I can exin about the bombs." Lance responded with an unshaken voice.


    He should force himself to be confident, as police officers had warned him about Mister Leric''s ability to detect a lie. At least, being confident about the way he would answer, masked the lies in between his lines.


    "Berkley?" Chester furrowed his eyebrows towards the kid. "Continue."


    "I invented the bombs. The police suspected us to be smugglers but we never had been outside the walls."


    "Aren''t you part of the rebel faction that we have been hunting down?" Leric asked.


    "No, Mister Leric. We despised them." Lance said and Damian nodded in agreement.


    "If you are a Mechanic Tier 3, you should know the byws about manufacturing weapons. Especially bombs. We don''t like bombs inside the walls, don''t we?"


    "I know about the byws where I failed to remember it. I was suppose to submit the designs and the request to the CBD but the attacks happened. And I found the opportunity to test them. And fortunately, it worked."


    "There is no fortunate in your disposition here, Mister Berkley. You are in grave vition of GLDws!"


    "I know, Mister Leric. My friend here, also a citizen in Steelpoint just helped me dispose the bombs to the attacking creatures. I should be the only one who would answer the sanctions."


    Leric stood up and took out a cigarette. There were no cigars in this age but with power and fortune, one could acquire one. Probably, his wife had formted the gic makeup of a cigar nt and was able to provide to the high echelons, including his husband.


    Leric lighted his cigar and faced the mirror in front of them. He puffed a greenish smoke from it and wafted a little inside the room.


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    "You send me in a difficult position, Mister Berkley. To the eyes of the GLD executors, you are a vitor. But to the eyes of the citizens, you are their hero. Now, in my position, I tend to bnce things in proportion. My decisions are always inclined toward the greater good of the public. It is supposed to be easy if not with these GLD auditors that review my decisions all the time."


    He paused and puffed his cigar once again.N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "GLD called me. They want you to be punished for the unsanctioned weapon you have. I, on the other hand, wanted to exploit your invention. If you say that you invented it."


    He paused once again. There was silence inside the room and he faced them and sat back down. His expressionless face maintained.


    "In my line of work. I am always ck and white to avoid precedents. You can''t be a leader if you are easily swayed by the people around you. Especially with power, like the head of GLD. Even though you are an inventor, you cannot just create things to your liking. All are for prior approval."


    "Mister Leric¡­" Lance interjected.


    "Don''t interrupt me when I am talking, Mister Berkley. If you don''t want to ruin my day any further than it is. This is my process of clearing my head." He sighed.


    Lance nodded, his heart thumped fast this time. He had to calm himself and let his thoughts be objective to what he would say next.


    "Mister Berkley. Lance Berkley. Your name sounds familiar. Something has been bugging me from the start of our conversation. Can you enlighten me?"


    "Probably, you have heard my name from Jaqi, Mister Leric."


    "Jaqi? My daughter." He paused for a moment, "Got it! You are Jaqi''s partner. He shared about you during our dinner. Countless times, if I can recall." Leric''s face brightened.


    ''Countless times?'' Lance thought. Suddenly, he liked where the conversation was headed.


    "Yes. We are working together on our in-vitro propagation project, with Miss J as our oversight." Lance responded.


    "Hmm. My wife is involved, too." Then, the head of CBD released a subtle smile.


    "We are just waiting for the seedlings to grow after a month. Then we can proceed with our hypothesis if the nts will survive using bacterial medium."


    "I don''t need to know about the details of your project. My nose bleeds of such matters." Leric smiled.


    "Ok." Leric exhaled deeply. "This is my proposition, Mister Berkley. I don''t want my daughter to disrupt his project with you in chains. And what you did saved thousands of lives. So, moving forward, here is my offer."


    He distinguished his cigar against the metallic table.


    "Well. I will handle the GLD. This is my only offer and you should take this. As a penalty, you will do public service. As your servitude, you will offer your designs without anything in return but this will be a Government property. Any unsanctioned manufacturing of such weapon will cause another form of vition which is probably imprisonment.


    So, offer your designs to the BCD. You will be hailed a hero to the city, of course, your friend here will be awarded with a mary value for his valiant act of being in the front lines." Leric exined.


    "What say you, Mister Berkley?" Leric asked.


    Lance was surprised with the offer. It was light. The mention of Jaqi, his daughter, and his wife, J, had brightened the conversation''s mood and pushed him to offer light sanctions. It was not even considered a penalty to some.


    However, he was not sure if the offer had no hidden agenda. The Vicious Circle members should have always an agenda that serves themselves selfishly.


    "I ept, Mister Leric. Will I get something in return out of this?"


    "You will get nothing, Mister Berkley. Only your freedom," Leric answered.


    "When do I start?"


    "I like your spirit. One of my agents will visit you." He started to stand up. He offered no handshakes.


    "Visit where? They don''t know where I live." Lance said.


    "Don''t worry, Mister Berkley. We know everything as long as you are in the system." Leric exited the room and the pressure on both of them subsided.


    They were saved.

 Chapter 104 Sidetrack The Hunt

    Nathan


    The day after the attack.


    ***


    In a dark tunnel, Nathan watched hisrade into transformation. Another human Abominant experienced filtered air for the first time since he was human. The dark tunnel was filled with agonizing screams, curses, and mumbling. It ran for hours and Nathan absorbed hisrade''s utter frustration.


    "You haven''t told me about this!" The second Abominant wheezed in pain. His body was emaciated on the floor as the transformation progressed.


    "I told you that you will endure it," Nathan responded.


    "You never told me that we will revert to human. You are sending me into a trap!"


    "No. You are here because I need assistance in attacking the city."


    "They ughtered my battalion!" The other one said. His ckened skin started to wear off and was reced by white, slimy, human skin.


    "I never have expected that their defenses are this strong. We can''t take down the city with only one battalion."


    "You came here without solid information, Nathan. You are a fool."


    "I did note here to gather information about their defenses. I am here to hunt the people responsible for the death of Johnny, my adjutant."


    "You have to tell me at least you have located them. My sacrifice should be worth it." The other gagged and coughed with blood.


    "Yes, I have located the boy. I am hesitant. It seemed I know him, but he has grown."


    Something was familiar about the boy. He was sure that he had memories of him. Perhaps, his past life had encountered a familiar face. But it was years ago and a lot of his human memories had faded.


    "How long would this take? My transformation?" The other asked. He had been asking the same question several times in a few hours.


    "It depends. Mine, it took me three hours to recover. But you are stronger than me, more senior Overlord. So I expect it your transformation to be shorter."


    The gagging and the wheezing stopped. The other Abominant released deep exhtions, his back still lying on the ground.


    "Senior Overlord! I like it. It seems that you treat me as your mentor." He hauled himself up. His monstrous form had gone and been reced with a muscr human form.


    "You are the strongest amongst the overlords. So, I treat you as my senior. And besides, you are the first among the Queen''s transformation." Nathan said. He helped the other to recover his stance.


    "There is no time to waste. I feel like I am bing one of them permanently if we will stay here a while longer. Let''s hunt the bastard!"


    "We should tread carefully. Let us blend like the other humans. We can''t just be suspicious now as the police might have information about us." Nathan suggested.


    "Have you got the scent?" The other asked.


    "Yes, Mathew. I got the scent."


    Nathan gave Mathew human clothes for them to blend together. Nobody would suspect them that they were monsters as they turned themselves into humans. However, even with their human form, their heightened senses were unchanged. They were still killing machines with their physical strength and speed.


    They went out of the tunnels and sauntered along the devastated part of Steelpoint. The war''s aftermath was evident in the scenery ¨C rubble, blood, remnants of dead abominants and humans, and destruction on the structures.


    Police and other Government staff were stillmencing cleaning activities in the affected area; however, they would not suspect the two human monsters walking on the streets wearing Commoner''s clothes.


    The concrete debris and rubble were collected byrge trucks and the dead bodies of Abominants were scooped too by those wearing anti-radiation suits. They ced the carcasses in a separate truck. As protocol, they would burn the dead Abominants as to eliminate all possible contamination and microorganisms contagious to normal people.


    "Do you know where we are going?" Mathew asked.


    "Yes. Far deeper inside the city. I have his scent and he should be close."


    "Hey!" A muffled voice called them as they walked along the streets. "This is off-limits!" It was a police officer. He walked towards them with his rifle on his side.


    "Sorry, officer. We are looking for someone that might have been affected in this attack."


    "You know you can''t just waltz in here. You can get contaminated. Better, you keep walking outta here. The News will report about survivors if there are any. And then, you will know." The police officer pointed to a way out of the affected zones and back beyond the restricted area.N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "Ok, officer. We get it. Apologies for the intrusion." Nathan responded. Mathew was rather silent but he held that deathly stare toward the officer.


    As they continued walking past the police officer, thetter called their attention again. "Hey! Let me see your identification first."


    Perhaps, the police officer detected the hostile stares of Mathew that he wanted their identifications. Nathan cursed inwardly, Mathew could blow their covers and be known to the world that they were monsters. That Abominated humans exist.


    They stopped from walking and Nathan released a great sigh. As he turned their backs towards the police officer, Nathan scanned the surroundings for any other officers lingering. A fight could ensue.


    "Let me see your identifications, first. We are on high alert for rebel activities. The News are telling the citizens that the Rebels could have orchestrated the attack inside the city. Who else could it be."


    The police officer asked for their identifications, unfortunately, the two had no IDs, especially a wrist-functional hologram.


    "We would like to apologize again, officer. We don''t have identifications with us."


    "Wait a minute! It is a mandate that all citizens should have holographic IDs with them. Or else, you will be suspected as one of the rebel factions." The officer said.


    He started to unholster his handgun on his belt. Nathan watched the tricky hand trying to slowly grab the gun out of his belt.


    "Officer, that is not necessary. We can talk this out and let us be."


    "You rebel scum!" The police officer took out his handgun and aimed it at them. But before the police officer could react, Mathew dug his right hand into the officer''s stomach, sping his innards. The police started to vomit blood from his mouth, and blood profusely dripped to the ground from the ripped-open flesh. The officer''s hand went limped and his handgun fell to the ground.


    Nathan was known to choke his prey to death while Mathew was more violent and gory. The police died instantly.


    "It is unnecessary to kill him. You will attract attention, Mathew." Nathan scorned.


    "That''s your problem, Nathan. You are too soft, ever since. You are too soft for your Battalion, and even killing humans, you still have remorse. Take it away and you will achieve victory at all times."


    "Are you questioning my methods, Mathew? One dead police will alert the whole army then we can no longer move freely. You are not thinking straight, Mathew."


    "The Queen has reasons why he brought me here with this attack. And this is the reason, Nathan. Can''t you see? I am filling up your weaknesses here. She wanted you to seed in your mission but she is doubtful that you alone can deliver. That''s why I am here.


    Wreak havoc in this ce!"

 Chapter 105 Sidetrack Bloodbath

    Precinct 13, borders of Steelpoint District Sector


    Nathan


    ***


    Mathew was the oldest Human Abominant in the nest and had served the Queen with all sessful missions. Nathan did not question that the Queen sent Mathew to his aid. But, because of Mathew''s different methods, he probably would spark something unnecessary. It could be numerous deaths of people.


    Nathan only wanted the death of his targets, not other people who tried to intervene with him. Well, he could not argue about how Mathew conducted his methods, he could not defy him. Mathew was stronger than him and a bloodthirsty monster.


    Hence, just going with the flow was probably the best move forward.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Nathan had one Abominant level 3 on his ranks, a rhino. While Mathew had two level 3 Abominants. Having two of them portrayed strength among his ranks. With two Abominants, they could wipe out half of the city.


    However, Mathew did not bring the two during the skirmish or it would defeat their purpose of hunting.


    "Tell me. Where are we going? You are not going to waste my time, aren''t you?" Mathew asked as he wiped the blood from his hands.


    "I don''t know but due North. We are going further deeper into the city. With our clothes, they should be sufficient to mask our true identities. What I would ask from you is to restrain yourself from killing people. We need this hunt to be clean and fast."


    "There you are again, questioning my methods. Have I not told you before that if you question me, there will be consequences."


    Nathan just walked silently from that. He let Mathew mumble in his utter annoyance about their contradicting methods, without further revisiting the thought. They followed the road to where the scent was strong. The scent was suspended above them, seemingly carried by a floating vehicle. Even at that altitude, Nathan could smell it.


    After a few blocks of constant sniffing and following scent, they arrived at a destination.


    "What is it?" Mathew asked.


    "A police station," Nathan said, hesitant to have brought Mathew to a crowded ce. He knew it was crowded because of the cars parked outside the lot. He was not hesitant because of the fear of facing police officers. No. He was afraid that Mathew would trigger again in a killing spree.


    "What are you waiting for? Don''t tell me you are afraid of some police officers."


    "No. I am not. I am afraid for them. This time, we don''t have a choice but to fight them if necessary."


    "Now, you''re talking," Mathew said and a smile creased on his murderous expression.


    Nathan could sense the delight of hisrade. His eyes bulged at the thought of another bloodthirst quenching opportunity thaty in front of them. Nathan could not determine how many would be the casualties. However, with the two of them, they could be unstoppable.


    Nathan even dmissioned fifteen SHF officers with his bare hands during the attack in the tunnels. It was not easy for him as the newly formed group had a different rigorous training. They were assassins. The police officers on the other hand had light basic training and facing them posed no challenge.


    They continued their path and went inside the police station. They were greeted with random guffaws of wounded citizens, police officers, and their perpetrators in handcuffs lined up in the right-side wall. The police desks were filled with people. Apparently, the aftermath of the attack had reached the police precincts.


    The dead bodies had not yet been ounted yet, and people were enraged for information about their lost loved ones.


    "Can you follow the scent?" Mathew asked him as they stood among a stream of unkempt poption inside the station.


    One police officer, skinny and young, squinted at two mysterious-looking men in yellow trench coats and wearing no boots, and both had masks hung on their sides. Clearly, they were out of fashion.


    "What can I do for you, misters?" The police officer asked politely. The police officers were on a magnifying ss right now with the media and the people.


    "We are looking for a boy," Nathan responded. "Is he here?"


    "What boy? There are a lot of boys here,ds. If you can''t be specific, I can''t help you." The officer said.


    "Are you trying to protect him?" Mathew asked. His coarse voice startled the young officer.


    There was a moment of silence between them and the police officer. The eyebrows of the officer furrowed in slight derision.


    "Let me see your identifications first." The officer''s voice became stern.


    This is what irked Nathan whenever Mathew would taunt a police officer, they would feel threatened and would ask for their identifications.


    "That won''t be necessary. I can smell him at the back." Nathan pointed to where the scent would take him. He tried to ease the tensions that were about to build up.


    The officer squinted back to where Nathan had pointed. "The interrogation room?"


    "Yes. Let us check. If he''s not here then we will go our merry way." Nathan suggested.


    "No bloodshed for you, officer," Mathew interjected. Nathan cursed inwardly.


    "Bloodshed? You are threatening a police officer, Mister. I said, show me your identification!" The officer''s voice raised and caught the attention of the others. This was what he avoided however, Mathew was a ma of violence which was immensely uncontroble.


    Nathan sighed. He counted the officers as around twenty to thirty personnel inside the station and another twenty as nonbatants.


    The young police officer started to unholster his handgun from his side while the officers near him were engaged, stood up from their desks, and transferred their focus to the risingmotion.


    "If you don''t show me anything, we have a right to question you. It is a GLD mandate that all citizens should carry their identifications at all times. You vite that directive. Show me your hands and let me restrain you." The officer started to take out his handcuff. "Both of you!"


    "That won''t be necessary, officer. Every one of you here will answer to me." Mathew said with a mischievous grin to the agitated officer.


    Mathew quickly jumped over the desk and kicked the officer in the face, sending the poor, young officer scrambling to the neighboring desks, mming his body hard against strong metallic fixtures.


    "Hey! Freeze!" The officersmanded.


    Guns were drawn and the innocent citizens ran from the station for safety. Mathew jumped at the knocked-down officer and bit his neck off. He slurped from the flesh that he had just devoured. The screams came.


    They fired at Mathew but thetter was quick with his feet and crawled below the desks like a crocodile jumping onto the officers with his fingers grabbing their intestines and taking them out from their bodies with sheer strength.


    Mathew was a hybrid human and crocodile, with strength like ten persons, he could easily tear the officer''s necks by only using his human jaw. Bullets prated Mathew''s back, ripping his yellow coat as bullets grazed him. Despite that, Mathew was unceasing.


    Nathan helped too, with his signature neck choking. Sometimes, he would rip their throats out. Blood sprayed from their necks as Nathan severed their tracheas. There was something about their necks that when suddenly opened, there would be a shower of blood that came from those veins connecting arteries.


    Ten dead, instantly.


    The screams continued to echo inside the station. The cuffed suspects chaotically ran for safety. Bullets whizzed overhead them as Nathan and Mathew covered against the desks.


    Then, Mathew crawled again despite the firepower. Shotguns and rifles were used now. The police officers were disoriented by how fast Mathew could crawl in between the array of desks, killing them instantly as he captured their shins and pulled people to the ground.


    Pools of blood streamed on the floor like a river toward Nathan''s soles. An advantage for Abominants was knowing the human weak spots, killing them with one blow and by the use of sheer force by bare hands.


    ''For a few seconds, all officers will die. And the boy can''t escape.'' Nathan thought while he fixed upon the interrogation room located at the opposite end of the entrance door.

 Chapter 106 Sidetrack Slaughterhouse

    Twenty dead in less than two minutes. Mathew had been energized by ughtering human beings for sport. Perhaps, Mathew''s thirst for a kill was his core definition of a monster. Itpleted him, like passion, or a motivation to live.


    The Queen had always given Mathew and his Battalion the kill missions. They loved to hunt for Outsiders. With Mathew in their ranks, the human race stood no chance.


    Nathan was rather an artistic killer. He wanted his kills to be smooth and swift. The station''s condition, and the chaotic way how hisrade had killed their prey, somehow provided disgust to Nathan.


    More police officers went out to the other offices with their rifles. Having people witnessed the mess Mathew created, it certainly raised the need for heavy-powered rifles. Theser rifles.


    ''This is what I am talking about. If I killed them smoothly, others won''t be engaged this much.'' Nathan thought.


    Lasers could hurt them, or perhaps, could kill them. With ten more officers with their rifles, the situation was raised to a challenge.


    Nathan busted the lights of the precinct 13 by severing the light switches and everything inside the station was dark, perfect for their hiding ce. He could not locate Mathew. Probably, was also hiding somewhere upon witnessing theser-powered rifles carried by their enemies. The remaining police officers scattered with their shlights on their rifles, scanning every inch of the room.


    "Who did this?" One police officer was heard asking.


    "They are monsters!" The other said, casting fear onto hisrades.


    "Don''t let fear misguide you of your alertness. We are facing different species here, boys." A calmer voice urged hisrades.


    Even though all theirrades died, the ten other policemen persisted in revenge.


    Fortunately, Abominants could move in the dark almost like it was well-lighted. Their retinas were adjusted so that they could see darkness, even in pitch ck. Nathan hid behind a desk, his back leaning against the metallic surface of the table. The beams of shlights moved in different directions, and certainly, the officers were closing into his location.


    A metallic nk was heard at the far end which disoriented the police officers, allowing Nathan to bolt out from his hiding ce and sp the closest man''s throat with his bare hands. He died instantly, almost without a sound. Nathan disallowed the body to fall so suddenly to the ground, making the kill more subtle.


    That''s how he wanted to kill ¨C with precision and grace.


    The disembodied sound continued to rattle the remaining officers then Nathan sneaked onto their backs one-by-one, without making so much sound. He delivered instant kill to the officers without allowing them to scream in pain.


    Eventually, one of them noticed that hisrades were gone, and he squeezed the trigger aimlessly toward the dark of the room. Laser light illuminated the ce and scarred the furniture inside the station. Hisrades did the same, as only five of them were left.


    "Let''s get outta here!" One officer suggested. As soon as they ran out of the ce, they were butchered by Mathew''s swift crouching attacks. He moved and crawled fast at the same time, attacking below the remaining men. Five of them instantly died, for less than four heartbeats with their bellies opened.


    "It''s done!" Mathew said, flicking flesh remnants on his fingers.


    They were the only ones alive inside the station. They proceeded to the interrogation room and found out that it was empty. However, the scent still lingered stronger inside the room.


    "He was here," Nathan said. "We just missed him for a few hours."


    "Where did he go?" Mathew had a hint of exasperation in his voice.


    "Let''s follow the scent. It''s not yet far. We can get to him as long as he does not move." Nathan responded.


    ******************************************************


    Hypervista Condominium, Hypervista Sector


    Explore more at empire


    ******************************************************


    Lance thought about Chester''s words. Even with the confrontation with his invention, his punishment opened to possibilities. Mizing it to the Outsiders could be out of the picture. However, possiblemissions in the weapon division could garner him better rewards.


    It had been two days since the attack and the News had praised his name once again. ''The Saviour of Steelpoint!'' The headlines said.


    There was something about famous, your name being praised by the media and the people who witnessed the attack. Somehow, it gave Lance a sense of invulnerability. It was unquestionable that his fame could unlock leverages in society. It could raise him to the ranks a little bit faster.


    Damian was released from the radars of the CBD and the police department, luckily, Lance''s reputation saved both of them. Despite everything else, the need to build the Ultragenerator was still a necessity.


    Lance had a cold shower inside his condominium. He let the water flow against his hair and let time drift endlessly inside his imagination.


    He would not worry about water wastage as what he had was the ShowerSmart technology. The one that recycles water back to its chamber for another round of baths after a quick filtration process. He thought about Jaqi whenever he showered, not because he was cleaning himself, it''s because Jaqi invented the ShowerSmart.


    After an hour of continuous shower, the dryer activated inside the shower enclosure and finished with a towel that covered his body.


    The hologram showed the news about the attack two days ago. His portrait appearing in the News had given him the chills, the excitement, the rarity of the feeling of being famous.N?v(el)B\\jnn


    ''Saviour of Steelpoint,'' Lance thought about it.


    He nced at his fabrication table again. Fame could distract him from his true purpose or fuel his motivation. He had hoped it was thetter, but undisputedly, it was the former. He wanted to rest for weeks and think about his own survival, without the regard of others.


    With utmostziness fueling his motivation, he went near his fabrication table.


    "Jasper, can I make the Ultragenerator without further education? Did Doctor Adamson give the references enough for me to build it?" Lance asked as he ced all the requirements on top.


    He had the Obsidian Exoskeleton on one side, impure gold on the other, and at the center of his fabrication table was the infused electromaic battery and the Energy elerator. Some of the minorponents were ced on the table as well.


    "The assembly is tricky, Master. Ultragenerators are not produced nowadays because of the existence of the walls and the windmill turbines that power the city. The Ultragenerators are used as backup alternative power sources if ever the walls fail. But the walls are designed not to fail." Jasper responded. "Hence, the need for Ultragenerators is scarce."


    "Then, I will try building it even without the proper knowledge."


    "Just some precautions, Master. The Ultragenerator suppliesrge amounts of energy that can power viges, in the case of the size of an Energy elerator and Electromaic battery. However, when constructed wrongly, it could explode like an atomic bomb." Jasper said.


    "Bomb? Really, now. So, what is your suggestion?"


    "What''s intricate based on your references gathered is the amodation of amperage coursing through the wires that travel fromponent toponent. Without the proper capability of those wires, it would heat up and create static heat energy in the system, disrupting the thermodynamics of the whole system.


    Energy elerators are sensitive to the temperature, so, yeah, let''s make the design right the first time."


    "Ok, Jasper. I got it. If I fail, there will be an explosion."


    The room bell rang.


    "Are you expecting someone, Master?" Jasper asked.


    "Probably the agents from CBD. They are going to get the schematics of my poison bombs. Surrender it to them as promised."


    As Lance opened the door, he was surprised by whom he saw.

 Chapter 107 SHF Visit

    Two SHF officers were at the door. He was expecting CBD executives or even staff that would collect his designs. However, two SHF officers visiting him was an overkill.


    They stood so firmly. They snappily stood outside the door as if amanding officer was with them. Both of them wore ck-d long tuxes that covered up to their shins, however, exposing their chest with their vest and an ensign of SHF in bold letters printed on the vests.


    They were clearly military. Both of them were square-faced as if they were born twins. Broad shoulders and protruding chests. The other though, was an inch higher in height.


    The first thought upon pondering them dumbfounded the kid. Why are they sending two trained killers just to retrieve the specifications for the poison bomb? Are they secretly observing Lance as one of the rebel members?


    Being a rebel gave him the chills. What struck inside his thoughts was the possibility that they knew about his smuggling activities with the Outsiders.


    Despite the menacing thoughts, he calmed his emotions and acted like he had nothing to hide.


    "Mister Berkley," the SHF officer said. "I am Officer Kent and myrade here is Officer Karl. We are here as instructed by Mister Leric of CBD. I believe you had a prior conversation two days ago."


    Lance almost choked before he could speak. "Come in, officers."


    They sauntered inside, with their heavy boots evident against the tiled floor. Lance was not used to amodate visitors in his pad. He was never a sociable person. He wanted the two officers to give them what they needed and exit the pad hastily, without further words of entertainment.


    "Let me just get the schematic diagrams and the CBD can have my designs. If needed my exnation, I can exin to the board."


    The officers seemed to scan the ce. Lance was unsure what they were looking for, they were observant even only by standing at the center of his living room.


    "You have so much to do here, Mister Berkley. Aren''t you gonna mize the scraps?" One officer said.


    Perhaps, they were not looking for clues. They were just admiring how messy his pad could be.


    "In due time, officers," Lance said as he took out the schematics printed by his fabrication table. He rolled it and ced it in a hard stic tube.


    "Funny," Lance said.


    "What''s funny?" The officer replied.


    "Why did Mister Leric send two SHFs instead of his staff?" Lance asked as he handed the schematics to the officer.


    "Maybe you haven''t heard about us. We are called to function during a crisis like this. We are still under attack, Mister Berkley. And probably, you are the target."


    ''Target? The way they spoke as if they knew about the Abominated humans.'' Lance thought.


    "How can they target me? Those are just mindless monsters," Lance said.


    "It''s confidential, Mister Berkley. We believe that you are in grave danger still. Probably, not from the monsters that attacked us, maybe from the rebels. The rebels needed a weapon like that to battle against the monsters when they traveled outside the walls. It will be a game changer for them. So, they are probably targeting you and going after your designs."


    "So, you are saying that my designs now are your topmost priority?" Lance asked.


    "Yes, Mister Berkley. And you are, too. Of course. We are here also to protect you. We will be watching you for any potential threats thate your way. One SHF officer will be your guardian angel."


    Thest time he needed was to be watched by his enemies, to monitor his whereabouts. This would pose a predicament to his ndestine illegal activities with the rebels.


    "It won''t be necessary, officer. I can handle it on my own. And besides, I am a Commoner, so I am used to handling petty crimes from the rebels."


    "We don''t like it either, Mister Berkley. Even so, this is a mandate directive from Mister Chester himself. So, defying him is a grave vition of our code."


    "It is better to just eliminate the rebels than to wait for them to attack me," Lance said. His conversation had led to nowhere. Despite that, he wanted to gather as much information as possible from the ck operations agency.


    "We are flushing them out, Mister Berkley. Do not worry about them. They are on the run as we speak. We are hunting them even outside the walls."


    ''Outside the walls? Are they still operating beyond the walls? This is dangerous.'' Lance thought. His friends might be in grave danger. The SHF doesn''t just capture the rebels. They were licensed to kill on sight.


    "Outside the walls? Where do you think the rebels are hiding now?" Lance asked.N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "We are scanning every possibility. We are looking first at the Trench Hill, just beyond the Dead Forest. Others are scouting to the Eastward, outside Gerald''s View. We are looking everywhere, Mister Berkley. So, worry not."


    "If you find them? Are you going to capture them?"


    "Capture? That is not in our vocabry. We are formed to operate outside the norms of police work. Even military work. We are given the authority to kill on sight without prejudice. So, the rebel problems that we have for a decade, we can say we have a shot on eliminating all of them, once and for all."


    Lance was now worried. Not to hisrades in the rebel faction but also to himself. What they were disclosing was highly confidential information. Disclosing them probably was sending a message to the rebels through him. Perhaps, the SHF already had an educated hunch that Lance was one of the rebel factions.


    The bell rang once again.


    "More colleagues?" Lance asked.


    "No." Now, the officers'' faces were agitated. One officer took out his gun from his holster. It was aser gun, a masterwork-level firearm.


    He slowly paced himself towards the door. The bell rang once again.


    ''What are they suspecting?'' Lance thought. His pulse rate increased. He could not have known it but judging the way his heart hammered against his chest, he was nervous. The SHF officers probably were suspecting more ominous than the rebels.


    ''Don''t worry, Lance. You are in good hands,'' He convinced himself.


    Stay updated via empire


    The other officer who was still beside Lance signaled with the former''s finger on his lips.


    As the door opened, the gun was drawn outwardly by the SHF officer. Lance had not seen the people outside the door yet, but he knew that they were not SHF officers.


    "Put your hands up!" The officer said.

 Chapter 108 The Pursuit

    HyperVista Condominium, HyperVista Sector


    --------------------------------------------------------------------


    The officer by the door was pushed inside with inhuman strength that sent the officer flying backward, then his body crashing into the furniture inside.


    On what strength can a human push a well-trained military operative further back for about five meters? There was only one thing that registered in Lance''s mind, they were not normal human beings behind the door.


    Hurriedly, Lance quickened his steps and veered to the corner where he kept his poison bombs. The fear in him jolted his senses. The perpetrators went inside his condominium, their yellow trench coats were sttered with blood, like butchers in a ughterhouse.


    The other SHF operative, upon looking at hisrade, had a mad dash and delivered a flying kick to one of the more muscr intruders. He managed to connect on his face and sent him down among the piled scraps near the door. Then, he delivered a flying kick to the other, somehow had evaded the blow.


    The knocked down operative hauled himself up and took out hisser handgun. With efficiency, he fired his weapon and hit the other one that fought with his partner. Three shots hit their marks, all in the intruder''s chest. He went down eventually, probably because of the gun''s firepower.


    The muscr one hauled himself up. However, he was overwhelmed by the handgun''s firepower. He rolled to evade and managed to find cover against the dining table. The other SHF operative also took out his handgun and squeezed his trigger too. Lasers had decimated his kitchen cupboards, and porcin and metallic utensils flew from ces.


    The SHF officers were prepared. They quickly reacted to the danger in front of them without nning. They moved with instincts, even without interrogating the intruders, they knew they were killers. Or maybe they already knew that Lance was hunted by Abominated humans.


    "C''mon,d, let''s get out of here!"


    Lance ced his poison bombs on his backpack, jolted across the living room, and jumped over the unconscious Abominated human with the charred chest.


    "We are right behind you!" The officer screamed and they continued firing theirser handguns inside. As Lance finally escaped his room, he recognized the familiar face of the knocked-down monster.


    ''They were like humans,'' Lance thought. Damian had shared this with him: the one that dmissioned fifteen SHF operatives was a human being, but it moved like a monster.


    His heart raced with the fast-paced happenstance. He could not control his breathing. The moment he reached the hallway, he quickened his steps to an exit. It was the third floor so he nned on taking the stairs.


    One SHF officer followed him outside the hallway without the other.


    ''Is he dead?'' Lance thought about the other SHF operative.


    "Move!" The operative shouted at him, pushing his back forward. Lance started to sprint like hell without looking back. He went to the fire exit door and hurriedly took the flight of stairs down. He was not a runner but with hisnky figure, tall legs, he could take the steps easily.


    The SHF operative followed him still and another set of footfalls hurriedly in pursuit. The intruders followed them, there were two of them. It only meant that the Abominant that had absorbed theser beams had recovered that fast.


    He knew that these were Abominants, with the face of a human being. However, it was not yet proven that the Aiveez mist from his poison bombs could affect the pursuers. Even so, he activated one and left it on the stairs tform. Five seconds would take the bomb to detonate and it was perfect timing for the pursuers to have reached that ce. It was on the second floor.


    "Great idea!" The officermended him as they reached the ground floor. After five seconds, the bomb exploded and blue mist filled the spiral stairs of the fire exit.


    They went out to the lobby and people watched them as they created amotion. Lance had exhausted every wisp of air inside his lungs and knelt down against the marbled floor of the Hypervista Condominium.


    "There is no time to rest, Lance. They are still active." The officer helped him up and dragged him slowly towards the exit of the lobby. He wanted just a second to recuperate but the officer had insisted with his brute strength pulling the kid up.


    Lance saw the faces of the people inside, stered with fear from the attack two days ago. Then, anothermotion sparked, and rattled them, eventually running away from them.


    "A car is waiting for us."


    They ran outside the building and scurried inside a ck sedan. The screams came inside the building. However, Lance did not have time to look back and verify the pursuers. He just assumed that they escaped the poison bombs.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Lance went inside first in the back seat and the officer followed suit. Even an assassin was stered with utter fear in his expression.


    "Drive!" The officer said and the driver floored the elerator pedal.


    Lance collected his thoughts and his breath. His heart was unceasingly hammering against his sternum and wiped the cold sweat that drenched his forehead.


    "What is that?" Lance asked. He knew about them, somehow was curious if the SHF had information about them too.


    "We are not sure. We suspect that they are Abominated humans. Somehow, they formed just like us, maintaining inhuman strength and speed." The officer exined.


    "How do you know about them?" Lance asked.


    There was silence inside the car. The officer squinted through the rear window and confirmed that they lost their pursuers.


    "A report came in as the SHF attacked the rebels. They encountered a superhuman being, killing ourrades with bare hands. Then, we knew about them and suspected that they had infiltrated the city. Mister Leric knew about this and had assumptions that you might be in danger too. So, he sent us, instead." The officer responded with evident breathings.


    The car swerved along the traffic and never decelerated.


    "I think we lost them," Lance said to the driver.


    "We can''t be so sure, kid. They probably still hunting you." The officer dialed on his Opt. "Look for two yellow trench coats. They are extremely dangerous¡­Abominated humans, possibly¡­ kill on sight." He deactivated the Opt.


    "Why are they hunting me?" Lance asked.


    "We suspect this is because of your weapon, kid. They wanted to get you to stop producing these poison bombs. They are afraid of it. Mister Leric told me that your poison bombs could end the war against the Abominants."


    Then it hit him. He suspected the vicious circle could be cooking something more sinister without the public''s knowledge. He supposed that the budget constraints the departments had beenining about might have some connection with the CBD''s head, Mister Leric.


    Maybe Menks and Leric were producing a nuclear bomb that could wipe out the creatures for good. If that''s the case, then it would be beneficial for mankind. What he suspected was that the Vicious circle always had a hidden agenda.


    "Where are we heading?" Lance asked as their car passed along the border inspections of Hypervista and went ind.


    "Somewhere safe. Mister Leric wanted you to work on this project, with benefits of course. He wanted you to oversee the mass production of these weapons and he will offer you rankings and mary rewards."


    "Can he do that?" Lance asked.


    "Yes. He can do everything. He is well-connected. Now, you answer to him in this project. Even the scientists did not know about this, so Mister Leric will sponsor you directly."


    "What about my things? I need my things for my scrapping."


    "You still scrap kid? Even as a mech tier 3?" The officer chuckled.


    "Of course. I love scrapping." Lance sneered.


    "We will hunt down those monsters first. And your things will be delivered to you after the dust has settled. With Mister Leric''s offerings, you don''t need to scrap anymore. He will give you a sry, with work confidentiality of course. He doesn''t want this to be public for now."


    "Sry?"


    Lance was surprised to hear about a sry. Having a sry directly to the head of CBD could be a game-changer for him. He probably doesn''t need to scrap any longer and concentrate on growing his money and supporting this project.


    "Yes. Sry. Mister Leric wanted to talk to you. We are going to his office right now. Don''t worry about anything, kid. We will protect you from the rebels and the monsters."


    They were entering Bloomforge Enve Sector. Lance marveled at the orange-colored lights that filled the city. It was the color of the night. Orange meant it was Wednesday. Therge advertisements blew up against the tall structures, reflecting their beams of holographic lights against the mirrored walls and windows of the nearing structures.


    They entered a secret parking entrance at the back of the towering structure.


    "Is this Skycorp?" Lance asked.


    The officer nodded.

 Chapter 109 Employment Offerings

    He felt safe from his monstrous pursuers momentarily, but he felt wary about where would this happenstance tread. He would be a puppet of his great enemies. Then he realized a famous quote, ''Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.''


    Lance hoped that what would happen with the Head of CBD leverage his rise to fame and control and would oust the Government and Corporation. He could not yet imagine that it was achievable however, he convinced himself to take baby steps first to achieve a greater goal.


    The SHF officer escorted him to the 29th level of the SkyCorp building and into Leric''s office. It appeared that SkyCorp held not only residential units for the high echelons of society but also their offices.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    As they went in, they were greeted by aromatic cigar smoke wafting in the air of a wide office thatprised a living room and an office desk on the other side. Elegance mantled the office, concrete and metallic fixtures had intricate designs that emted that of a wood. All furniture thatprised the office was cushioned, wrapped in leather, and a carpet made of rare material.


    The absence of trees made every furniture so luxurious, especially the ones that were made of fine cloth and wood.


    Chester Leric had his corporate suit on, facing a wide transparent ss window that revealed the expanse of the northern sectors. An orange hue of city lights refracted against his windows, sheepishly illuminating Leric''s office. Leric puffed a cigar while his eyes traversed outside the ss, probably sunk in his own deep thoughts.


    "Have a seat, Mister Berkley," Leric said while distinguishing his cigar against his ss ashtray. He was the kind of man who did not want to waste time and something had told Lance that Chester Leric also was a tactician of long-term mitigation ns.


    Lance was seated on a cushioned chair across Leric''s desk, the SHF office stood behind him.


    "Thank you for sending your officers, they saved me Mister Leric," Lance said. His gratitude should lighten the mood of the seemingly gloomy demeanor of the Head of CBD.


    "There''s an attack in Precinct 13," Leric sat down on his swivel chair with a serious voice, neglecting Lance''s gratitude. "Killing thirty police officers a few hours ago. So, I assumed that these killings were connected with the attack two days ago in Steelpoint. With that assumption, Mister Berkley, the killers are hunting you. The only motive that I came up with is your poison bombs.


    Probably, the monsters or the rebels. Each one of them posed a different level of danger. But what''smon between them is that the two groups are dangerous for public safety."


    "Have you mobilized the hunting party for those two suspects?" Leric shifted his sharp stare and asked the SHF officer behind Lance. Those stares could haunt one''s dreams. Leric was a guy that could intimidate everybody.


    "Yes, Mister Leric. They are hunting them down as we speak." The officer responded with military precision.


    "I want you to capture them if possible. I want to question them. If they are Abominated humans as we suspected, we need to know about them."


    The SHF officer nodded in agreement. Then, right after the officer snappily went outside the office, leaving Lance with Chester. It was clear from the officer''s reaction on how Leric delivered his instructions, that thetter was a formidable leader.


    "Mister Berkley, you are here because there are things that I would like to offer you," Leric said. "I want you to be my weapons inventor under the protection of CBD, Customs, and Border Defense Department, if you have not heard of us yet. We controlled the trades in and out of the walls when there were still surviving cities.


    Now, we have sanctioned external farming, overseen by the Corporation of course. CBD also is responsible for the city defenses, hence, my department handled the police department, the military department, and of course the ck operations, SHF. The SHF, as you know, is not being broadcast by the media. Their existence should remain ndestine.


    Now, I rely that you will keep everything in utmost confidential, Mister Berkley. You are now a part of something greater than you have ever known. We are the blood that flowed within the city. We are the unsung heroes that kept the peace of our beloved City."


    Lance nodded. The rebels had been fighting the war against the injustice of the Government and the Corporation. Momentarily, it was clear that the rebels were fighting against CBD.


    "As for your responsibility, you will be inventing weapons for me that are effective against Abominants and at the same time spearhead the production of your poison bombs. I want this to be used by the police departments and the SHF to battle against Abominants, now that we know about the entry of the walls."


    "That''s arge role to fill, Mister Leric. How can you say that I am up for the task?" Lance retorted.


    "I have read your file. You got greatmendations from Doctor Zee during your stint as a TOR and your defense for your RoFlo invention. He said you have a lot of potential. And I don''t want to waste that kind of talent which you spent only on scrapping. Scrapping is a decent job, that I can assure you, but the pay is not that fulfilling. I know that you know that.


    You have been scrapping for years. This offer will boost your social status and your bank ount, of course. You will be wellpensated if you ept this job."


    "Compensation? What kind ofpensation?" Lance asked. He knew about the sry but he had no idea how much. If it would be worth his time and would suffice his agenda supporting the rebels and continuing his ndestine illegal activities, he would ept the offer.


    "Sry, of course. You will receive 3000 units per month as my Team Leader for the weapons division."


    He was hesitant at first, 3000 units would give Lance a decent lifestyle but it would be far lower for his colossal ns to take down the Corporation.


    "Why me, Mister Leric? I mean, we have a lot of able scientists that can fill that role."


    "Well, you are in for luck, kid. My daughter, Jaqi, had high hopes for you. She said that you are the smartest kid she knew. You even impressed my wife with your project, the in-vitro propagation. So, what say you?"


    "Thanks for the offer, Mister Leric. But I have to think about it. I mean, I am earning more than 3000 units now with my scrapping and my inventions. If I am going to dedicate my time to the weapons division, it would greatly affect my lifestyle."


    In Lance''sputation, he had an average of more or less 5000 units per month, his Zelkian and Tyllrium trades would give him almost 2000 per month profits, while his inventions had given him bulkpensations every after a sessful production. Therefore, a sry would restrict his movements and would defeat his grand scheme of things.


    "Really? You are earning more than 3000 per month." A deep sigh was released from Chester. He leaned back in his swivel chair and crossed his legs. "How about I increase the sry, would you ept it for 5000 units per month?"


    Now, Mister Leric was talking sense. Hearing about the 5000 units per month was a sry more than the earnings of Electrical Tier Scientists who managed manufacturing industries. On the other hand, it concluded his suspicion that there were no budget constraints under CBD management.


    "What about my rank? Is there a probability that I can increase it?" Lance asked.


    "Yes, of course. Every sessful production of your inventions would still be under the scrutiny of the Corporation under GLD-executedws for rankings. You still have to defend your weapon inventions to them and receive respectivemissions out of it."


    "What about the budget for my inventions? My equipment? I need my fabrication table to do new prototype construction."


    "Don''t worry about budget, Mister Berkley. You will have your equipment, your fabrication table, and all the resources you will need to mass-produce everything. You will be TOR on your own, of course with the blessing of Doctor Zee or Doctor Menks. They are my close friends,"


    Hearing the name of Doctor Levi Menks had raised his skin hairs, gooseflesh crawled all over his body. It was probably excitement that he was nearing his goal or maybe it was fear that Menks could have the power to take him down in one second. He could not fathom momentarily the grasp of Levi Menks among the leaders of the City, and the leverage he had with Chester Leric.


    "Where will I sleep, Mister Leric? My home is already ransacked by those monsters."


    "You will be relocating, Mister Berkley. SHF officers will guard you at all times for your safety of course. I want you to expedite everything without regard to budget constraints. Do what you must!"

 Chapter 110 Successful InVitro Project

    The next day.


    Dome, HomesteadGreen Sector, Axe Central


    -----------------------------------------------------------


    It was the time for their in-vitro project inspection. It was three weeks since they nted nt tissues and ced them inside vials for propagation.


    As he went inside theboratory, Lance saw Jaqi standing in front of the rackings with her whiteb gown on, pulling the vials one by one and watching the bottom of the vials for root growth.


    Lance ced hisb coat on and underwent the body filtration process. As he went in, Jaqi greeted him with a smile. With all that''s happening and being involved in the attacks in Steelpoint and the attack on his home by two Abominated humans, Jaqi''s smiled somehow relieved him.


    He could not exin it, but her smile, with her smoky eyes crystallized, somehow gave him a refreshing feeling. A feeling of assurance that everything would be ok.


    "Hi," Jaqi said with her soft voice.


    "Hey. How are the nts?" Lance asked and took one vial in his hand and inspected the growth, too.


    "It''s working. The bacterial medium we used is effective for tissue culture growth. It''s a sess, Lance."


    Looking at the racking, Lance had a jolt of something inspiring as the racks were filled with greens. The leaves of the nts crawled a little over the brim of each vial. It worked. They managed a breakthrough to propagate nts by the use of an adult nt''s tissue and managed to multiply to five hundred seedlings.


    It was a breakthrough indeed. On the other rack, he found his Aiveez seedlings had grown tripled their sizes. The racks was filled with bluish leaves, also crawling out the brims of the vials.


    He squinted at Jaqi who had streaks of smiles as she circled back by the rackings and inspected random vials in each level of the racks. She probably had not heard the news about the attacks and him being hailed as a savior. Or probably, what was happening in Commoner''s sectors did not capture the interest of the high echelons.


    "Remember, we have our defense tomorrow," Jaqi reminded.


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    "Committee defense?" Lance asked. His heart thumped against his chest. He was not prepared for all that was happening. He forgot the schedules and he should prepare for at least a week before a project defense. He hoped Jaqi would spearhead everything, but he knew it wouldn''t be the case. He should participate in the defense to maintain his stark reputation with the panelists and also to Jaqi.


    "Of course. The whole panel will be there. So, we will bring the two nts in one rack. As you said, we can defend it better knowing it''spatible with different nt species."


    "That''s right." He responded, but what would transpire tomorrow was still blurry.


    "Have you studied the bacteriaposition? I know the panelists will concentrate their questioning on theposition of our bacterial medium."


    "Hmm. Yeah." His voice was shaking. "I can run over the forms tonight and refresh my memory. Also, they would question maybe the choice of our nt species."


    "You can handle that. Don''t worry Lance, I know you are not that prepared with everything that happened days ago."


    "So, you know about the attacks?"


    "Of course. You are in the News One, Lance. You are again, famous! Some say you are a rising celebrity now."


    "I don''t know about that. People are just rectifying the hype."


    "No. The people are enraged to know more about you. I don''t know if you have received messagestely. My friends are even asking about you."


    "Your friends?" Lance asked. He knew that Jaqi was also famous and encircled with high-echelon influential friends.


    "Yes. They know that we partnered in this project, so they are eager to be acquainted with you, the savior of Steelpoint. My father is even asking questions about you. He said that he offered you something for his department."


    "Yeah. He offered me something. To be a weapons inventor of CBD."


    "What? Weapons inventor? That''s great, Lance. That is confidential information. You should not be bragging about it."


    "Why? Are you saying that it is a big deal?"


    "Of course, Lance. Can''t you see? The CBD holds the military and security of this city. And you became one of them, holding one of the most important jobs in their department. If someone gets hold of you, especially the rebels, they will know what the Government is working on through you. So, I know you are being protected by SHF agents now."


    Jaqi was right. Lance did not see it for the first time because of his involvement with the rebels. However, for the people who feared the rebels, his position held a high level of risk for the Government. He would have highly confidential materials in his possession.


    "Yeah. They are standing outside the Dome. Two of them actually. It kinda freaks me out, following me everywhere I go."


    "I know. Father told me about it. Well, he sees a lot of potential from you and he wants you to grow in rankings. It''s a special offer actually, he pulled some strings to pull it off. The Corporation was hesitant, it could be a precedent."


    "Precedent? Precedent of what?"


    "There will be rumors that the Government and the Corporation favored a scientist and has grown into ranks because of these special offers. Other Scientists would beining that they are more qualified than you and why the offers are only being made avable for you, and not to the Scientists out there."


    "Probably, because they are not hailed the savior of the city," Lance released augh, and Jaqi chuckled a bit.


    "You''re right. They did not risk their lives during the attack. How was it? My father said that you are being targeted."


    "The attack? Hmm. It was devastating. Half of the sector was destroyed. Countless casualties. It was horrifying.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    People were screaming and dying."


    "The media said that the bodies they counted were around five thousand dead. They are still counting the bodies now. That''s a lot of people. I can''t imagine that kind of cruelty. The media is saying that it is being orchestrated by the rebels. Just like what happened with the wolf."


    Lance hasn''t heard the newstely and he only knew the amount of dead citizens by Jaqi. He could not even imagine the horror brought by the Wolf Abominant that killed only dozens. And for five thousand dead, that''s iparably horrifying. The attack was strategic. Even though Lance had not witnessed it all, he knew that the police could not stop the Abominants without his poison bombs.


    They hardly stopped one level 3 Wolf Abominant, how much more of a horde thatprised some level 2s?


    "That''s terrible news, Jaqi." Lance sobbed.


    "I am sorry, Lance. I know you''ve been in Steelpoint for years. You have friends who may be affected by the attack."


    Lance did not answer. He was sad, for sure. But he had little friends in the Sector. He was not that sociable. His friends developed when he involved himself with the rebels. He was more concerned with the rebels now.


    Then the thought of his Ultragenerator came to mind again, reminding him of the crisis that they were experiencing. He got to move fast, he convinced himself mentally.


    "So, good luck to us tomorrow?" Jaqi said with a reassuring smile. Probably, she noticed that Lance had not responded herst statement, hence, she redirected the topic.


    Lance nodded.

 Chapter 111 Adamson and Secrets

    Doctor Adamson agreed to meet with Lance during the after sses. Although he enrolled in his subject he needed to expedite the creation of the Ultragenerator as soon as possible.


    He headed to Adamson''s office with the SHF bodyguard casually following him about twenty steps behind. Lance wanted to walk among the streets without the people knowing about his bodyguard. They had not talked about it, somehow, the bodyguard read what he wanted withoutmunicating to him directly. These people were trained to read other people''s minds, anticipating the desires of others.


    Lance believed on that notion.


    When he arrived at Adamson''s office, he went inside after three knocks and saw the Professor reading about his CloudArchive tablet.


    "Oh, it''s you. Come in," Adamson said.


    "Forgive me Mister Adamson for thete-night visit. There are questions that I would like to ask about the construction of a generator."


    He did not borate that he would be making the Ultragenerator, which would raise Adamson''s eyebrows and tinged his suspicion about the matter.


    "Yes. I know. Ok. What are your questions?" Adamson said.


    He was a busy man but when it came to teaching or exercising his stock knowledge as a teacher and having the opportunity to impart it to others, he would allocate his precious time for such.


    And besides, who would not want to help the new Savior of the City as the media hailed?


    "I wired the elerator to the battery," He maintained generic names for hisponents which he assumed that Adamson would catch up. "With the use of impure Gold wires, would I need to have ground connections for it? I mean, the generator, for it to perpetually function, the current levels will fluctuate and would be passed on to theseponents on a high-frequency level.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    I theorized that the equipment would heat up and the surge of current would not have a line to escape."


    "Well. All powered generating equipment should theoretically have grounding. Especially the high-powered ones. But you should not ground it on the generator''s generic housing. You should have a separate material that would be bolted to the ground for proper function. This would prevent yourponent from biting your hands when touching it." Adamson elucidated.


    "Ok. Got it. What about heat generation? Would the impure gold wires can withstand continuous operation."


    "Impure gold wires are used in high-powered generating equipment and high frequency. If what you are building is not that powerful, I mean, below 50 KVA, then you don''t have a problem. But if you are generating more than that, you should adjust the thickness of your impure gold wires to withstand the heat transfer borne by electricity. I have a form for that if you want?"


    "Yes, I want the form."


    Adamson transferred a file to Lance''s hologram via a wireless connection.


    "You said before that you are not going to share information that covers your lessons. Or this would be a form of cheating," Lance said as he scanned the electronic documents.


    "Yeah. I said that. And you should be a topnotcher because of this. But it only holds about one percent of our lecture, so it would help only a little." Adamson said and held a sarcastic smile. "We don''t want the Golden Boy to be a failure, do we?"


    Lance only smiled.


    "Listen, Lance. You are under a microscope right now by the society. I know you are not used to living with the Mid and high-ssers but it''s different. A week from now, we are going to start our sses, and you know, if you are famous, they will test you. They will test your intelligence and of course your personality. You should outthink them.


    Don''t y their game, y yours. Don''t let yourself be bullied by high-echelon students. I used to be bullied when I was still an Aspirant. I was a Commoner back then, my family was not born rich. I am self-made and I endure bitter experiences in school. Let these experiences guide you for your strength, mold you mentally to control your emotions, and keep your rage at bay."


    Hearing the words from Professor Adamson gave him the goosebumps. He spoke like his father, giving him unwanted advice. Well, it was apparent that Adamson wanted the best for Lance. Adamson was a self-made millionaire, therefore, in order to seed, one should experience bitter moments as the former also struggled during his growth years.


    He missed his father. His mother, too. But he had little memories of his mother. She died when Lance was still eight years old. On the other hand, if the Seer was telling the truth about his father was still alive, there could be a chance that they could reunite. But it has been about three to four years since his father had left him.


    "Thanks, Professor Adamson for the life advice. I am prepared for whatever it is."


    "Yes. I know. To make your life easier here in the Academy, I suggest that you make friends with the mid-ssers. They are more decent to be with than the high-ssers."


    Adamson poured himself a drink, an orange transparent liquid, like the color of gasoline, and smelled like alcohol when the liquid flushed inside his ss.


    "Have you tried rhum?"


    "Rhum?"


    "Yeah. 65 years. It''s an expensive drink. I have heard that before the Nuclear World War, it would only cost around three units per half liter of a bottle. Now, it cost me Fifty units."


    "Wow. Howe?"


    "Supply and demand, Lance. The demand is there. The upper ss wanted to drink liquor but alcoholic drinks are hard toe by these days. Because of the rarity of the materials. I don''t know how they do it, but the Agricultural Sector found a way to gically engineer the raw materials for this. You know HomesteadGreen Sector?"


    "Yes, I''ve been there. I know the directress." Read exclusive content at empire


    "Miss Leric? Yeah. Fine woman. Do you know the Lerics?"


    "Yes, his father and their daughter. I have a project with Jaqi that we are going to present tomorrow."


    "Wow! Really? The Lerics are famous. This is a warning for you, Lance. They have more control over the city than you can imagine. These are dangerous and influential people, Lance.


    So be careful with them. There is something sinister in them, pulling of strings and the politics. They are the center of it. Well, it''s a secret for both of us but if you say you are connected with them, just be careful."


    What Adamson said was no surprise. Lance had been researching about the Lerics and Lance knew that Mister Chester and J Leric were integral part of the Vicious Circle. And the Vicious Circle curated of everything evil in Axe Central City. He just needed to take them one by one. However, finding the other members posed a challenge.


    The existence of the circle only circted in the level of rebel factions and even Jefferson and the council had no idea who the members were.


    Lance continued questioning about technical information on the assembly of his Ultragenerator through Doctor Adamson. During his inquisition, he learned many information about generators. Moreover, he also knew Adamson''s hatred against the Government. One little motivation, he would be a rebel himself.

 Chapter 112 Presentation of InVitro Project

    Continue reading at empire


    Scientific Awards Committee Defense Hall, BloomForge Enve District


    Presentation of Invention ¨C InVitro nt Propagation by the use of Tissue Culture Method


    -----------------------------------------------------------------------


    The time had slipped him, and his time for defense review escaped him. Tiresome battled his brain function, he had little sleep. As soon as he arrived at his new apartment in SteamHaven from his meeting with Adamson, he went on partial assembly of the Ultragenerator.


    His new room held not much of a difference from his condominium in HyperVista. He was situated in SteamHaven just near the weapons manufacturing industries that he would supervise in the future.


    He had his quick meal, luckily, CBD had provided his groceries for him. He would not have spent a dime for groceries. It was part of the perks.


    He headed to SAC (Scientific Awards Committee) with two SHFs still shadowing his steps, a little closer this time. About fifteen steps.


    They maintained their casual look as if they were just on a holiday, wearing mid-sser suits, and had removed their body armor with a print of SHF on them.


    As he entered the halls, Jaqi was sitting there with the rack from theb covered in white cloth. She was reviewing her tab in preparation for their defense. Her legs were crossed, her slit slightly revealing her thigh, and a silky cloth hugging her to emphasize her stunning shape.


    "Good morning," She greeted with a light mood. She was always like that. Seemingly, the pressure did not affect the way she looked or the way she handled her emotions. Her face was so fresh, and properly dressed like she would go to the mall afterward.


    Lance, on the other hand, sweat had drenched his back, and a bit of shaking involuntarily looming on his hands.


    "Hey!" Lance responded.


    "Did you study?"


    "Yup, a bit," Lance lied. He never had the time to study. He would rely on his stock knowledge which he was confident still.


    "Hey, don''t worry, alright. It will be fine. Just follow my lead." Jaqi winked.


    Then she stood up from where she sat and sighed. "It''s game time."


    Then she effortlessly pushed the tworge doors of the defense room, while Lance followed suit pushing the rack behind Jaqi. It was the same setup and the same faces still sat behind high desks, towering before them. Lance situated the rack in front of the panelists and took off the white cloth that covered it.


    The fragrance of the Aiveez nt permeated the room and it enthralled the panelists. They never had this aroma before. Aiveez nts originated outside the walls. They served as mountain weeds for ages before it was discovered as poison to the Abominants.


    "Good morning, Panelists," Jaqi bowed. Lance just stood a meter behind her.


    "This is a team project, and with me is Lance Berkley as my team member. And we call this project, ''The InVitro Tissue Culture nt Propagation.''


    The Panelists'' mood seemed to be light, perhaps, Jaqi was the cause of it. Her influence emanated to them, and this defense would go so smoothly. Apparently, Lance''s presence only contributed a little. There were no condescending stares, only smiles. Doctor Zee, his current endorser, had darted a friendly stare unto Lance. Lance smiled back at him.


    With the leader of the defense panelists on their side, this would go smoothly. What terrified Lance was his momentum. He could not maybe catch up on Jaqi''s in-depth knowledge when ites to their project defense.


    ''Just go with the flow, Lance. Make themugh if you have to,'' Lance thought.


    "If I may," Jaqi continued, "I will go over some introductions. I know you are all busy," There were slightughter as if Jaqi had also experienced as part of the Committee herself, "then, let''s cut to the chase."


    "Please do, Miss Jaqi," Doctor Zee said.


    "The main objective of this project is to propagate nts the easier way." She continued, "In HomesteadGreen, the methods of propagation were the use of seedlings from full-grown nts, cuttings, shoots, marcotting, grafting, and of course, gic engineering. However, these methods seemed to limit the number of nting materials per adult nt, except for the seeds.


    But we have nts necessary for our food mixtures, do not have seeds to bear, and rely only on cuttings or shoots for propagation. This inhibits the City from maximizing inventories, hence, a shortage of such nt sources. Our project would solve this predicament. For non-seed-bearing nts, we used tissues of an adult nt, and let it grow in a bacterial medium in vials.


    In one adult nt, we can grow into hundreds of new seedlings by splicing tissues into small cubes and submerging them intopatible media."


    Lance revered how Jaqi delivered her statements. They were clear, well-thought-out, and objective. Lance only saw positive auras emanating from the panelists.


    "The extent of this project," she continued as the panelists felt silent, "is we can use food-bearing nts to augment our food storage inventories and prevent future shortages. We can prepare for slow seasons such as the Demetrian season next year. As we needed time for nts to grow."


    Mister Tanaka, the electronic Tier 2, raised his hand. He was always the first to question everything. The project was new to them. They were used to scrutinize projects that were inclined with Electrical, Mechanical, and Electronic fields. However, what was in front of them was the technology of the Lost Engineers.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    And somehow, Jaqi found a way to harness the untapped science of Botany, and Agricultural Science.


    "What nts did you use for this project?" Mister Tanaka said.


    Jaqi nced to Lance over her shoulder and gave the floor to him.


    "Oh, it''s Mister Berkley who would answer my question," Mister Tanaka said. He was the one who questioned Lance about Erik Berkley, and Lance had to lie about his connection with thetter in question.


    "Yes, Mister Tanka." Lance bowed before them. "We used King Orange and Aiveez weed."


    "I understand about King Orange that you use as a sample." Mister Tanaka interjected, "Because we can harvest its fruits. I love King Orange, regardless of its price. Preposterous. It''s a no-brainer and it''s a good sample. But the Aiveez weed, why spend the risk for this project? I mean, it''s only a weed, right?" Tanaka asked.


    Jaqi held a stare at him. As if her stares were saying to him mentally that they should stick only with King Orange.


    "Mister Tanaka, this project shows the versatility of different nt speciespatibility of the media. Secondly, it is the most important nt right now, in my opinion. Aiveez nt is not used for food, or for food mixture, or condiments, not even for ornamentals. They are only weeds that grew wildly in the mountains of Oroz continent.


    However, ording to recent discoveries, the Aiveez Nectar in a full-grown state can be used in poison bomb weapons. You know, during the attack on Steelpoint, if you heard the news. Actually, divulging this to the public might incarcerate me, because the poison bomb project design is now owned by CBD."


    Now, the faces of the panelists turned sour. Like, they were struck by lightning. They knew about the News and what saved the City from the Abominant attacks. But they never knew how the poison bombs were invented.


    Lance nced at Jaqi, and her mouth was semi-opened with eyes bulged in surprise.

 Chapter 113 Presentation Downfall

    Scientific Awards Committee Hall, Bloomforge Enve


    Project Presentation.


    -----------------------------------------------------------------------


    It was a pain seeing Jaqi surprised with what he said. She was kept in the dark, hopefully, it would not enrage his partner. Lance assumed that Jaqi would be pleased if their project not only supported the food inventories but also the weapons inventory.


    He had not prepared for the defense, and might as well just drop the bomb on the panelists and tinged their interest to the aspiring Scientists before them.


    "Howe the Aiveez nt bes a weapon?" Mister Tanaka threw a follow-up question. It did not surprise Lance, he knew how Tanaka operated during the defense.


    "It would be another project that I will present maybe next week. CBD would like me to patent the poison bombs on their behalf, and also to create further regtions for the new weapon invention. But to answer your question, Mister Tanaka, Aiveez isposed of nectar that is poisonous to the Abominants if ingested.


    But in order for it to properly dissipate and efficiently spread it into the air, I incorporated it into a bomb, making a mist out of it."


    "Wow! Fascinating," Doctor Zee praised.


    "Actually," Lance continued, "if you haven''t known about Aiveez, some are using this to repel the presence of Abominated rats in your homes. You will just stand with the nt''s aroma," Lance said.


    "Well," Zee said, "we will be looking forward for your project proposal, Mister Berkley. For now, we will concentrate on this project before our discussion is sidetracked."


    "Ok. I have a question," Doctor Cultz said. "It says in your Cloud presentation theposition of the bacterial medium you used for the nts to grow; can you borate it on how did youe up with thepatibility?"


    Lance knew that this was Jaqi''s forte. She had been researching thepositions in the Archives. Eventhough, Jaqi had disclosed a little about it, however, it was nobler to let Jaqi answer the question. Lance stared at Jaqi and she took the cue.


    "Cultured Bacteria. We are culturing soil to decontaminate it and inject some nutritive value into it just to bepatible with nt growth. It''s the same concept with the bacterial medium. The same nutrients were injected in the media; however, it needed something to stabilize its characteristic, making it like a gel.


    Through cultured bacteria, mixed with water, in time, the Bacteria would solidify the water in the form of gel, hence, the capability to hold the nutrients in ce. Not only that, the bacteria cultivate the organic nutrients that were being injected in the gel, hence, making the levels close to infinity."


    Jaqi continued his exnation more on the technical side, the type of bacteria used, the levels of nutrients injected into the gels, and she was able to achievepatibility with the nts. She was thorough. Looking at her, one could have immense appreciation.


    If the panelists'' objective was to throw questions that the aspirant could not answer and fail the patent application, they would clearly lose. Jaqi was an intellect machine. It was not apparent in the way she looked, but the way she defended it, she was unyielding.


    As Jaqi elucidated the details, Lance could see that the panelists had been scanning the Cloud presentation on their respective tabs.


    Doctor Zee, the Industrialist Tier 1, questioned about future applications as he was known for it.


    "We know that King Orange is very expensive at this moment. The bulk of its operating expenses was based on the high-tech equipment that we used in HomesteadGreen Sector, in the Dome. With this project, could it lessen the cost?"


    "Absolutely," Jaqi replied. "It does not need more electricity to power the equipment that we use. It does not need the facilities during the seedling stage. We can ce them in racks from tissues.


    And of course, the cost of the adult nt being harvested for its tissue and converted into hundreds of seedlings versus the traditional nt propagation of King orange that may be half of what it can produce."


    Doctor Zee nodded. "Have you made the calctions?"


    Lance had not seen the presentation and he was not sure if Jaqi made the calctions. He was hoping she had. However, Jaqi was silent momentarily, like a frigid statue in front of the inquisitor. Apparently, Jaqi had not made the calctions. She was not able to anticipate Doctor Zee''s approach and the mood had depressed from there.


    "Unfortunately, Doctor Zee," She said meekly, "we were not able to do theputations."


    "Hmm." There was a slight frown on Doctor Zee''s face. "How can you conclude that this project had contributed better operational expense than the traditional ones if you had not made the calctions?"


    If Lance had an idea of the numbers, he could produce a roughputation with his mind. But the numbers were not readily avable for them, so he was rather silent.


    "I think," Lance saved Jaqi''s silence, "we are more inclined with the replenishment of the inventories that we had challenges ages before, and had overlooked the business side of it. But at what Jaqi had said, her defense was sound that in the business side, we are reducing the operating expense of nt propagation."


    As Lance interjected, there was no change of mood from Doctor Zee. That slight derision was still stered on his expression.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    "I see," Zee said finally. "You are just deflecting the fact that you haven''t made the numbers. Remember that during patent presentations like this one, the presenters should anticipate the consideration of the financial angle.


    Especially during our economy is dwindling and budget constraints have been issued to all departments of the Government, especially in the industrial sectors, there is a need for us to scrutinize more on the impact of the economy. But¡­" Zee sighed. "I can ept the fact that this project really helps with our predicament. That''s on the plus side.


    Now, we have to weigh the scorings for this one between my co-panelists."


    There were asional questions from other panelists but it was handled by Jaqi. Despite the blow that they received from Doctor Zee, it did not demotivate Jaqi as their team leader.


    They were asked to exit the room while the panelists were assessing the scores of their patent applications.


    Jaqi was clearly devastated, with her droopy eyes, and bent head as she sat down on the bench. Lance sat down, too, inches from her. Lance was just waiting for Jaqi to talk about how their presentation went.


    "Well. What do you think?" Jaqi asked, her eyes were looking at the floor.


    "I think you are doing great, Jaqi. I am proud of you," Lance said. Find adventures at empire


    "Are you patronizing me?"


    "No. It''s the truth. Don''t worry too much. We are doing great. Our project is sessful."


    She did not reply to that, she rather stayed silent.


    Tanaka opened the door and peaked at them. "It''s time for the verdict."

 Chapter 114 Project Rewards

    Lance could have brought Jasper with him but he did not activate him for a precaution. He could make the numbers right, and with Jasper''s assistance, he could run financial simtions. However, the Committee had scanners on their own to avoid cheating during defense. And having an AI was a form of cheating.


    They went in with heavy steps. The mood had depressed somehow evident on the panelists'' faces. He could not me Jaqi for not having business aspects of their project, it was just newly amended by the Committee. Probably, Jaqi had overlooked the amendments even though she was one of the Committee due to her busy lifestyle.


    Being a CISU founder had field duties to scrutinize Markets where the illegal merchandise was sold. Lance also heard about the ck-market merchandise was also audited by Jaqi. She used every bit of her time for work and her project.


    "Miss Jaqi Leric and Team member, Lance Berkley. This is your project''s verdict.


    The two of them were silent and ominously waiting for the panelist''s verdict. Lance''s heart had beaten faster, not due to the verdict of the project, but how would Jaqi take a piece of bad news?


    "The InVitro nt Propagation Project," Doctor Zee started, "solves the City''s predicament of food shortages in the winter season of the year, that we call Demetrian season. This project would help the majority of our citizens, especially those who can''t horde food supplies months before the Demetrian Season.


    We acknowledge our ever-challenging economy, and the weak links of our food chain, and this project greatly contributes to strengthening the supply. However, based on the amendments a few weeks ago, every project should consider financial considerations in the project''s execution. This would provide a heads up for the Committee of whether the project is financially feasible or not."


    Lance''s heart thumped faster.


    "But based on the Committee''s scoring, we rmend your project, the InVitro nt Propagation by the use of Tissue Culture, to be patented by the Corporation. Congrattions!"


    Jaqi smiled at Lance and they were at ease. Her shoulders slumped and the tension had faded. It was a sess!


    "So, in the case of a Team like this project, Jaqi Leric, the Team Leader, would only be offered a Scientist Rank up and a mary award as well. However, for the team member, Mister Berkley, you will only receive a mary award.


    So, based on the established rules of GLD executions, and Corporation Administrative Orders, and based on the awards bracketing, this particr project would garner about 15,000 units each."


    ''What! That big!'' Lance thought.


    Jaqi congratted Lance with a handshake and the soft ps came from the panelists. He saw Mister Cultz and Tanaka stand up from their chairs as they had been relentlessly questioning the intricacies of the project. Doctor Greggory Micheals remained seated but a congrattory smile streaked from his face.


    They went out of the defense room and Jaqi was ecstatic with the reward. 15000 units each was a great reward, even though Lance was not offered a rank up. He knew the conditions and he epted from the start.


    "Drinks?" Jaqi asked. Her smile and her mood had revisited.


    "Ahm. I can''t today. I am sorry," Lance responded. He had to construct the Ultragenerator again and sought Doctor Adamson''s advice if he would meet a roadblock.


    "Oh, c''mon, Lance! Live a little!" Jaqi insisted. "This is the only way that I can rx myself. And besides, I am meeting with my friends. I want you to meet them."


    It was an interesting offer. However, Lance did not like to socialize much. Her friends should be the high-echelons of the society. He assumed that they would be boastful, spoiled brats, and those who would condescend people like him.


    "No, I am fine, Jaqi. You go ahead with your friends. I have a lot to do."


    "When can we hang out again? I love to chat with you. You are the only person that can understand my nerdiness."


    "We can after my project. You know, a guy should work and work to reach the top. I am an ambitious guy. And besides, I do not drink liquor."


    ''Jaqi should not drink, too. She''s underage.'' Lance thought.


    "Ok. Thanks for today. You are doing great!"


    "You, too!"


    And she went on ahead.


    ***


    SteamHaven Condominium, SteamHaven Sectorn/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    That night.


    ***


    -----------------------------------------------------------


    [Name] Lance Berkley


    [Rank] Mechanic Tier 3


    [Intelligence grade] Zero


    [Originating city] Bay City


    [Currency] 22,000 units


    [Recent Transaction] InVitro project reward of 15,000


    [Next project] Ultragenerator


    [Pending project defense] Poison Bombs


    [Pending quests] Search for the mystery girl


    ----------------------------------------------------------


    By ncing at his status details, he was astonished by the Committee''s reward immediately crediting to his ount. However, he was saddened with his intelligence Grade level of Zero. He needed to augment his grade level in order to achieve Electronic Tiers and up. Find more to read at empire


    He needed to undergo courses to increase such category. And one thing that bugged him always, was his pending quest to sought out the mystery girl that saved them in Asphodel boundaries. She held the key of the concept of Project Nightfall. The only project that could discredit Menks'' MAF project.


    He shrugged on the thought.


    His fabrication table provided by Chester Leric was state of the art. It was more efficient, had better features, and was more automatic. Although the form and the robotic arms were almost the same as what he had, the efficiency of the new version was recognizable.


    "Ok, Jasper. Commencing, Ultragenerator Assembly," he said, standing in front of his fabrication table with his generatorponents.


    "You need more intelligence grade, Master, to be able to safely grasp the design assembly of your project."


    "Jasper, I can''t wait for many months just to undergo the courses and earn intelligence points. I need to do this now. The rebels need this before Demetrian seasones. What you can do for me is guide me with the references provided by Adamson."


    "I got you, Master. Remember, what you are going to build is highlybustible. It would explode if the design is notpatible."


    "Then, Jasper. That''s when youe in."


    Lance started to iste the blocks of impure gold in his fabrication table while setting aside the otherponents. He needed the gold wires first to create conductivity for theponents.


    "As by using Adamson''s form, the dimension of the wires should berge enough to amodate the level of current."


    Lance entered the wire dimensions and as he pressed enter, the robotic arms started to move about the table, mounted on the corners of the table with gears the made the robotic arms move to every corner. There were four of them. The blocks of impure gold were then heated for it to be malleable.


    Then the softened impure gold was subjected to a wire stripping molder equipment, the same equipment he used for his Roflo tentacles, and then abruptly cooled my spraying canister connected to the other Robotic arm. After which, the wires came out from the other side of the molder, achieving the operator''s desirable thickness.


    Then he ced the Energy elerator and the infused Electromaic battery on the table. With his fabricated casings, the twoponents snugged in ce, fusing them into one. The golden wires were then soldered to each conductive connector that the battery and the Energy elerator had.


    "Master, you are now at 40%pletion rate of your Ultragenerator."


    "Ok, Jasper. Thanks for the update. We will conduct testing. Show me possible electric shortages and mishaps.


    Lance had his handheld equipment, a multitester, that he used for connectivity. Then, with the use of his fabrication table, it had a temporary power supply that could power up the newly connectedponents using safe levels of energy.


    "Jasper, I am testing now conductive nodes. Tell me if I missed something."


    Lance powered the device and he measured the heat build-up on each connectivity. If there was a sudden increase of heat with the use of a minimal amount of energy, it would be dangerous. However, seeing the results, the wire dimensions seemed to easily amodate the level of Energy being streamed through.


    "Master, your connections are doing fine for now. You will go into sequence from there on. We have to test every installed schematic boards one-by-one before conducting a wholistic testing."


    "I agree. So, what''s next."


    He needed to tread the assembly carefully, as he had not acquire the needed intelligence grade for it. Hence, he relied his steps to his AI, Jasper.


    "Ready your Obsidian Shell, Master."


    As he tugged the Obsidian shell from the floor and ced it on the table, he reminisced the day they ughtered a Level 3 Obsidian Scorpion. He also remembered the death of Lanky and the disappearance of Fatso.


    The Obsidian scorpion''s shell served as a heat diffuser for the housing of the energy elerator to prevent from too much heating during its full operation.


    "Ok, Obsidian shell installed. What''s next, Jasper?"

 Chapter 115: Ultragenerator Assembly

    SteamHaven Condominiums, SteamHaven District Sector


    ---------------------------------------------------------------


    Your adventure continues at empire


    "Your schematic boards, master," Jasper replied. "Thatprises your energy regtors, switchboards, and maic rys."


    "Can you show me the instation sequence?" Lance asked.


    "Using your references given by Doctor Adamson, this is your instation sequence." Jasper showed Lance the sequence appearing on his retina.


    He installed the energy regtors, snugging them into their designated slots that were framed by the fabricated metallic supports. Then, Jasper showed him where to conduct the testing using his multimeter, to verify the connectivity and thepatibility of connections. Then, afterwards the maic ry and the switchboards.


    What was intricate about the instations was the testing andpatibility. He had to carefully select the minuteponents, such as capacitors, resistors, and inductors, into the schematic boards to form micrponents for the generator. If Lance had not procured references and knowledge from Doctor Adamson, his instation would have taken days for his trial and error and self-research.


    However, Lance already knew his line of questioning and the roadblocks that he would encounter, hence, he solved them one by one.


    Lance squinted at his watch, it was 0200 H. No wonder he felt groggy and sleepy as he made the spate of testing. ¡¯Time flies,¡¯ he thought. He slipped on the hours spent on his instation; he had been working for twelve hours since after his defense. He had not eaten dinner.


    His driving force, to save the rebels of spending too much resources for their Diesel to power up the prison, his generator would eliminate such necessity.


    He lowered himself to the ground, his arms hanging on the edge of the fabrication table. He needed to stretch. He needed to close his eyes. However, sumbing to the pull of sleep was never a choice.


    The rebels needed the generator as soon as he could finish. And it was finished. He needed to test further. Lance leveraged unto his knees and stood up again with tremendous effort. Despite his tiring body, happiness had overpowered seeing theplete assembly of the Ultragenerator. It was assembled like a rectangr box, with two meters on length, and half a meter wide.


    He could not imagine that an equipment so small could generate 10,000 KVA. The motors of the energy elerator would do the trick to maintain a perpetuating operation.


    He made the tests using minute current levels. He was not sure it would not blow up if a 10,000-kilo Volt Amperes would course through the wires.


    Another predicament he saw was the challenge to deliver the Ultragenerator to the rebels without being noticed by his SHF bodyguards. Even contacting his rebelrades was a risk.


    Damian had not contacted him for days now. The rebel probably noticed his SHF bodyguards, following him wherever Lance went.


    "You did a wonderful job, master. That¡¯s a rare-level equipment right in front of you. You can market that for 20,000 to 30,000 units."


    "You are right, Jasper. But this is intended for the rebels back at the prison. They need to power the prison using this Ultragenerator."


    His lungs wanted to inhale air. He stormed out of his condominium with his jacket on. The crisp morning air seemed to ovee the pollution that filled the atmosphere. It seemed more filtered. The level of pollution was lessened during dawn than during the waking hours.


    "Mister Berkley, you are still awake," one bodyguard said, he threw his cigar away upon seeing Lance.


    "Hey, how long do you n to follow me?" Lance asked one of his SHF bodyguards, who was standing outside the lobby of his condominium. They were relentless. They seemed to have no rest watching Lance.


    "We are here to protect you, Mister Berkley. You are now one of the most important people in CBD. We will be with you as long as it takes. As long as Mister Leric said otherwise."


    Somewhat their off-switch was only Mister Leric. And Mister Leric would not approve such a request. Lance could not move freely with his bodyguard.


    "I wanted to walk. Just to feel the air. Is it ok?"


    "You can do whatever you need, Mister Berkley. We will be steps behind you. Also, Mister Leric wanted you to know that you will be starting producing the poison bombs in two days."


    Lance nodded and proceeded to take the walkways alongside therge structures of SteamHaven. SteamHaven did not have towering structures, as the sector was apound for manufacturing industries. SteamHaven heaved the most amount of pollution when these factories operate. Usually, these establishments exhaust smoke from their vents and pollute the air.


    It exined that there were a few more MAF hovering on top of the atmosphere in SteamHavenpared to other sectors.


    He hugged himself, even with the jacket on, as the coldness prated through. A cold chilling mist exhausted from his mouth as he exhaled air.


    He squinted at the back and the bodyguards followed him, maintaining the same distance. He wanted to scream and let the rebels know that the Ultragenerator was already finished, and they could enter his condominium and get it from there.


    His steps had been heavy ever since. He felt running was not an option anymore. Even with the presence of his bodyguards, he felt no safer than before. The monsters still lingered in the dark shadows, waiting for the best opportune time, he thought of it every time. The trauma had not dissipated since the attack at his condominium. He wanted to flee the city.


    He felt safer in the hands of the rebels.


    He nced back to his condominium. It was far enough as he estimated. He should have cleared his head. No. He could not. Somehow, it worsened.


    "Hey!" Ady in a dark hood crossed his path. She had a soft, and friendly voice.


    Lance halted his steps and tried to identify thedy a few meters away from him. Her face was obscured by the shadow cast by the hood on top of her face, only revealing a gleaming smile.


    He realized his bodyguards had quickened their steps but stopped as Lance raised a palm toward them.


    "She¡¯s a friend," Lance said. But she was not. He doesn¡¯t want to scare thedy with his intimidating bodyguards.


    They started to walk together side-by-side.


    "Aren¡¯t you afraid of me?" The woman asked. She sounded like she was just his age, or a few years older. She sounded young, however, there was some efficiency the way she uttered the words.


    "Why would I be afraid of you? Who are you?" Lance asked.


    "Do you know about the Lost Engineers?" She asked.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om

 Chapter 116: First Meeting

    "Yes. No. I mean, not really. I have heard of them but I never seen one," Lance said, ncing at the woman beside him, her face still obscured by the ck hood.


    The way she moved was as if she held a lot of secrets. She had more than what Lance knew and on that age, the secrets could be used as leverage. As Lance did with his dealings and his inventions.


    "Well. You¡¯re in luck. You have met one, already." The woman said.


    Surprised, Lance furrowed his eyebrows and darted an inspecting look. He could not just believe what she had said. It held no bearing for him. However, if one had knowledge about the Lost Engineers, it would provide him with usable information to find them.


    "Tell me who you are?" Lance insisted.


    The thrill built up every waking second. Her words seemed to disconnect his belief that the Lost Engineers were old people, with long experience driven to protest against the current Government and flee. Not a girl like her and her age could be one of the Lost Engineers.


    "I saved you, Lance. I saved you when you were in Asphodel boundaries."


    Suddenly, it hit him. The familiar face and the familiar stance supported her ims.


    "What?" Lance said, close to a whisper. He did not want his bodyguards to tinge their suspicion upon the girl.


    "Cool yourself, Lance. I am not here to chitchat. I am here to help you. I have been spying on you ever since. And the moment had arrived that you somehow finished the Ultragenerator. We needed the Ultragenerator and only you can build it."


    "Why me? You have enough brains in the Lost Engineers that can assemble the generator. I spent my money on this one and this is for the rebels."


    "Rebels? Why?"


    Lance nced at his bodyguards. Seemingly, their conversation did not reach the guards¡¯ prying ears. Unsure if she was a legitimate member of the Lost Engineers, he calcted his words preventing further disclosure. She had not given her name, even her face. However, Lance trod carefully. If she knew about the Ultragenerator, then she was spying on Lance. And there was no way around it.


    "Before I answer that. Tell me what kind of weapon did you use when you subdue that monster?"


    He had to be sure.


    n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "The elerated nt growth that I used for restraining the Abominants?"


    "Yes."


    "Nightfall. Your father¡¯s project, Lance."


    Project Nightfall was erased in Axe Central City¡¯s history, creating a traitor out of his father¡¯s name. Nobody knew the details of Nightfall, even its project objective other than the Axiom Trench Seer.


    "How do you know about it?" He asked.


    "It was a sess, Lance. And we need you to make the Ultragenerator for this project."


    "I am going to make one for Bay City. I want to revive my hometown." Lance sneered.


    "Why Bay City?" The girl asked.


    "My father said that I can find the project details of Nightfall in our house."


    "Mister Berkley!" His bodyguard called out. "We have to head back. For your safety."


    They stopped walking and turned around to the bodyguards.


    "I will find you, Lance. We will talk again. You give the Ultragenerator to the rebels and make another one with arger capacity," she said.


    "I can only find another Energy elerator in Terrabitha. There is no more avable in the Trench."


    "I can help you with that. I have been traveling for miles and Terrabitha is just a few miles from where I live. We have a lot to talk about. I will visit you then. Tell your goons that I am just your friend. If they ask about my identity, just lie. I am erased in the records of the Government and the Corporation."


    "Before you go, can you deliver a message to the rebels?"


    "Sure."


    "Tell them that the Ultragenerator for the prison is finished. They can get it in my condominium. I will hide the manual key beneath the Floor mat before the door.


    The Security guard started to saunter closer and the woman receded her steps and towards the dark corner between the buildings.


    "Who was that?" One bodyguard said, they were looming near the kid.


    "She¡¯s just a friend. Well, you know me. I have been in the newstely, about the savior of Steelpoint. She just wanted to know more about me. That¡¯s all." Discover stories with empire


    He hoped that his shaking was concealed by the SHF bodyguards. He could not lie that tantly without manifesting it in his expression.


    "Don¡¯t stray far, Lance. You are still in danger. That monster is still hunting you."


    "I believe the SHF already captured them."


    "We have but they escaped. The casualties are building up, Lance. We are doing everything we can to keep you safe."


    "How can you fight those monsters if theye?"


    "This!"


    He pulled out a ck and shiny rifle hidden beneath his long tuxedo. It had a long barrel, withser cube batteries. They seemed high-powered. Masterwork-level weapons.


    "State-of-the-art rifles. They don¡¯t have a name for these yet. But the initial name is ster. It can st through concrete. If those bastardse, they won¡¯t stand a chance against these bad boys." The bodyguard smiled. Lance had never seen the two smile for days of surveince.


    He clicked buttons on the weapon and the battery charged, a blue light emitted from the gaps of its casing. There was a small warbling that came from the rifle¡¯s core.


    "I am sure they are," Lance said.


    The bodyguard then clicked the same button again and the whirring sound disappeared.


    "They can fire fiveser beams per second. This is not your ordinary weapon issued to the police. No. These weapons are just designed for SHF."


    ¡¯Bravo for the maker of this weapon,¡¯ Lance thought.


    They headed back to the condominium and Lance mmed himself against his bed. His meeting with the mystery woman had stayed in his memories. The need to find the Lost Engineers should be his priority. If the project Nightfall holds the key to Menks¡¯ fall, and the Lost Engineers know the schematics of Nightfall, then his new quest would be to look for the Lost Engineers.


    Still, the girl¡¯s appearance could not solidify the existence of the Lost Engineers. Probably, she could be a spy from the CBD to spill secrets to them. They were probably protecting and spying on him at the same time.


    The question was, how could they spy on him? Are the Lost Engineers using spy cameras now?

 Chapter 117 Damians Visit

    A doorbell startled Lance from his quick sleep. Lance groaned and nced at his digital wall clock with one open eye. It said 0600 H. Less than four hours of sleep would trigger headaches the entire morning. He cursed inwardly, trying to move a muscle. But the pull of sleep still lingered.


    The doorbell rang again. Lance finally moved and hauled himself out of his bed after a long stretch. He adorned the morning sun, even though it was faint, had not entirely invaded the confines of his new room due to a new window feature that would turn the tint automatically triggered by a press of a button.


    He carefully sauntered outside his bedroom and across his living room. He nced at his Ultragenerator that sat on the fabrication table to somehow elevate a sensation of sess. The thought that the Lost Engineers needed his expertise in the matter had dumbfounded him.


    He could make one, however, the procurement of an Infused electromaic battery and the energy elerator, both rare-levelponents, could be difficult to find. Although, difficult was just an understatement, he would use ''dangerous'' instead.


    The Energy elerator could be found in Terrabitha, miles away from Axe Central city, going south nearing the borders of the Oroz Continent. People say the southern regions had more Abominant poptions than the other regions.


    The third bell ring annoyed him and jolted his senses to answer the door.


    He hurried his steps. He opened the door and saw Damian apanied by one bodyguard outside.


    "Mister Berkley, do you know this guy? He wants to see you." The bodyguard said. It was apparent that sleep was not in their vocabry.


    "Yeah. I know him. He''s my friend. Let him in." Lance responded, rubbing his eyes against his knuckles.


    Damian smiled and let himself in. Lance closed the door after.


    "Joe and George miss you," Damian said as he whistled pondering the expanse of his new condominium. "So, this is CBD, huh?"


    "Did Joe revive the Zelkian farm? What about George? Is he okay?"


    "Yes, he did. We are ready for another transaction with the Mafia. George is still George. He also was wondering about your next Tyllrium delivery."


    "Yeah, Grebert is waiting for the next delivery. I just told him that we will be dyed for a few weeks, maybe."


    Their transactions had been dyed due to the attacks by the SHF. Luckily, Damian had not been identified yet by the SHF as one of the rebels. Thus, the reason why Damian traveled alone inside the city was to reduce the risk of identification of hisrades.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "What about the Rebel Council? Are they still coping with the financial reserves?" Lance asked.


    He remembered that they only had 4000 units to recuperate after the attack. Despite that, Lance knew that the rebels could raise money faster with the help of Outsider trades. The rebels still have leverage for the ins and outs of the wall. However, their options were dwindling, so they looked for other secret underground passages near the Eastern wall sectors, avoiding the SHF units flooding the Southern wall underground tunnels.


    "The reserves are increasing. But we need the Ultragenerator, kid. We cannot just rely on running on Diesel. The cost of it. Now, that the rigs are being attacked by the Abominants, the supply is crashing!" Damian responded. He let himself fall to the cushioned couch of Lance''s living room. "This is grand, Lance. How did you manage such a room? You are one of them, now, huh!" Damian scorned.


    "Chester seemed to favor me because of my connection with Jaqi. We had a project together. We just patented it two days ago."


    "Hmm. That exins. Jefferson is wondering when can we use the Ultragenerator?" His eyes darted to the equipment on top of the fabrication table.


    "The guards are following me wherever I go. I am now the CBD Weapon''s inventor. So, Chester is providing me with two SHF bodyguards. For my safety, of course."


    "Yeah. I see them. Anyone can notice them. They are the opposite of covert. Those guys," Damian chuckled. "Who wears a long tux? They are hiding their weapons under them."


    Damian had sharp eyes as always. He observed like an eagle hunting for prey and anticipating iing danger that he harnessed as a soldier.


    "You can take my equipment to my room when I am out. It''s the only way, Damian. You take the equipment to the council and let me install it. I need to see the operation first for safety precautions," Lance requested.


    "Ok. We will get it this afternoon. That''s why I am here, kid. To coordinate things with you and see how are doing. What we didst week was rocking the news. You are a star now, hero!" Damian mocked. Lance onlyughed at it. He anticipated that Damian would joke on his newly hailed title by the Media.


    "Damian, I saw a woman. She''s with the Lost Engineers."


    "What? When?"


    "Last night. They are watching me. They wanted the generator, too. But they had to wait for my next assembly."


    "You can''t. We cannot procureponents here." Damian sneered. "They got to be kidding. Why not procure the materials themselves, and assemble the generator themselves? They are the Lost Engineers for Science''s sake!"


    "It''s true. I have been wondering, too. Nevertheless, I''ll have to find a way. If we want to make allies with them, then I have to fulfill their request. She said that the generator can regenerate Project Nightfall." Lance said.


    "Nightfall. So, ''the bomb nt'' she used was the project nightfall?" The ex-soldier asked.


    "Yes, but she confirmed that the project can discredit Menks'' MAF. Need something?" Lance opened his fridge. He found a sandwich that he bought yesterday from the store. It was ced inside a hard stic transparent casing, the dressing and the green leaf cabbage protruding from the sides of the bread.


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    "No, I am fine. I had a steak on my way here." Damian smirked.


    "Fabulous, steak!" Lance said as he ced the sandwich in the microwave oven. He turned the equipment and it warbled, heating his chilled sandwich. When he was amoner, he only had breakfast stored in cans, containing processed food of 20% pure meat. All other ingredients were obscured from the public.


    "How much are they paying for this?" Damian said, looking upon the fancy-designed ceiling of his living room. A small chandelier hung at the center of the room.


    "Decent pay, Damian. I am in the bracket of high-ssers now, but way lower than the upper echelons."


    "Well, look at you. Doing good. Just make sure that we are still right on track, kid. Don''t lose yourself from all this, and take down the Corporation as soon as possible. Jefferson is getting desperate. I hate it when he is like that. He''s making rash decisions again, costing the lives of ourrades."


    Damian was right. Having the luxuries in life, Lance feltfortable momentarily. They were paying him goodpensation, and such would elevate him from the diforts of being a Commoner. He forgot the smell of the scraps any longer. Even though, hisfortable living never intervened in his vengeance.


    Project Nightfall was the answer to the fall of the Corporation. With it, Lance would rise gradually until he became an Industrialist rank. If it happened, it would garner him proper control over departments and influence the citizens. But achieving such ambition would entail a lot of sacrifice. He would probably lose himself. How many years could he reach such a rank?


    "You worry too much, Damian. I am getting there. Where are we with the Zelkian? I need to inform Jonaz about this. We don''t need another enemy, do we? We need to maintain good rapport with Jonaz by delivering Zelkian."


    Damian smiled. With Lance''s businesses, Damian could earn as well.


    "Yeah. We are good to go. Twenty Zelkians after two days. We can deliver."


    "Lets." Lance poured himself water. His throat dried up from the talking and the sandwich that he just gobbled up. Damian stood up from thefort of the cushion chair. He smiled at the chair. He never had suchfort before. He had a mat that he used for sleeping against cold moist concrete.


    "Why is so dark in here?" Damian said, trying to pierce his vision through the tinted windows.


    "Don''t strain yourself, friend. Here," Lance pressed a button on the side of the wall and the tinted windows became clear. Faint morning light suddenly invades the room.


    "What the¡­? You''re not serious. Automatic windows. This is high-level shit, right here, kid." Damian venerated with his hands training on the surface of the windows. Even up to this point, Lance still enjoyed the picturesque scenery that his windows could offer.


    Damian stood in front of the windows and had a sudden change of demeanor. His face loosened, and his smile had vanished.


    "We need to move fast, Lance. The SHF is now hunting the Outsiders." Damian said tly, "I have heard talks from the western regions. The illegal trade stops there. There wille a time that it will affect the Truthseeker''s trade ie."


    "You are calling ourselves Truthseekers, now?" Lance said.


    "We are from the very start. Jefferson authored the name. He''s kind of going through the motion when he made that." Damian smiled.


    "I am moving fast." He gobbled a bite from the sandwich. "But we need a lot of resources when the timees. We need an army. We need to demobilize the CBD''s strength first. But by doing that, we need a lot of resources. A lot of money in our pockets to provide the needed weapons." Lance frantically said.


    "How? We can''t even scratch the surface."


    "No. We are making an impact, Damian. The circle just doesn''t want to let the citizens know that they are affected by the rebel attacks. But I know that our attacks weakened the city''s financial reserves. They are diverting budgets to the CBD to strengthen the army."


    "This is going to be war, kid. And you y an important role here. You are the center of everything. Your sess is our sess."


    "Not only that, my need to elevate to the topmost rank is to gain leverage inside the Corporation. It''s another story. Somehow, the fall of the Government does not mean that the Corporation will fall too. As Menks controlled the Corporation, he could still manipte everything. So, I need to take down Menks."

 Chapter 118 First Day SHF

    Even though the rebels coped with their challenges in terms of financial reserves, using perpetuating energy sources such as the Ultragenerator would greatly eliminate the need for Diesel to power up the prison facility. Therefore, eliminating unnecessary costs.


    As Leric told Lance during the attack in the tunnels, the SHF group found remnants of food and clothing left as the rebels fled. Thus, the rebels were still recuperating with clothing and food supplies which entails the utmost financial need for such provisions.


    "Going back to the mystery woman. Is she gonna meet you again?" Damian asked.


    "I don''t know. She said they were spying on me. She said she would help me. But they need me to build a stronger Ultragenerator. If it happens, she will show me the Lost Engineers," Lance said.


    "They better be allies. We can''t afford another enemy, kid." Damian''s voice had emotional sentiments. He had been fighting a war that would only cost their deaths, the deaths ofrades and friends.


    "Yeah. I know they are. They wanted to take down the Corporation too. But they need an ally inside the city. So, they need me."


    "Seems that you are in great demand nowadays, kid," Damian smirked. "Jefferson needs information too. Now, that you are with the CBD, he wanted to know where the other Tinman production is being held."


    For years, the rebels had been fighting the city''s defenses. Just recently, Lance knew that they had been fighting Jaqi''s father.


    "For now, I don''t know, Damian. Just give me time, and we will know. Jasper, include it in the list," Lance requested.


    Extracting information about CBD''s secrets could disclose his true intentions, and possibly be identified as one of the rebels. He should tread carefully on the type of information that he would leak. His movements should be ndestine from the wits of Chester Leric. If caught, his hard work and his intention to take down the Corporation would be wasted.


    "Yes, Master," Jasper responded.


    "Sometimes I forget that you have an AI in you," Damian said.


    "Well, he helped me make the Ultragenerator. Damian, I know that ourrades were still recovering from the attack, I will transfer your units and give this to the council."


    "Really?" Damian was ecstatic.


    Although Damian mostly was out of the rebel camps to do external biddings, trading with outsiders, and making some business negotiations sanctioned by the council, the ex-soldier had the softest heart for his fellow rebels, especially the women and children. He did not want to reveal such sentiment, but Lance noticed it.


    "ept 3000 units from me," Lance said as he typed in his hologram.


    For three thousand units, it could buy almost a thousand pieces of cheap clothing in every Commoner''s market. A piece would cost around three to four units. He hoped that the rebels would be happy for it.


    The rebels had grown into a functionalmunity, and the council had been building businesses and other ie-generating activities to support the cause. Eventually, providing the necessities for the members. On the other hand, the members provide services within the rebel ranks, cooking, tending the livestock, serving the guards with food, tending the sick, and performing specific work in the businesses.


    Even though, looking at them enjoying simple living almost below the poverty line, Lance witnessed happiness and contentment. It was rare to watch.


    ***


    SteamHaven Weapons Facilityn/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    ----------------------------------------------------


    The first day he entered the weapons facility gave him a sense of uneasiness. As Leric had pointed out being a Weapons inventor held a vital position in their department. Grasping such importance had provided Lance difort ever since. Now, the day hade to activate him. A lot of things bothering his mind, one of which was to spy on CBD as Damian had pointed out recently, and gather as much information as he could.


    The other was that he knew the controls were more stringent than other industries. The guards were doubled and carried intimidating weaponry, and the people working inside were seemingly ves. Although they wore clean uniforms simr to other industries, however, they worked diligently not because they were motivated, but because of immense fear. Lance knew about the confidentiality agreement between the CBD and the people working under them. Hence, these people were also monitored by the CBD for any risky activities that might divulge confidential information.


    Lance nced below them through a transparent ss. It was the viewing deck where somebody told Lance to wait for Chester Leric''s Executive Assistant. The room held an aromatic smell that pierced his nostrils. It was elegant.


    asional nts could be seen in corners of the waiting room, the expensive kind. Because of their heights and the size of their leaves, with colorful streaks along the wide leaves, vibrant to the eyes. Lance had no idea what those nts were called. He was never a lover of those greens.


    "Hi," A male voice loomed from behind right after the sound of the door creaking. His metallic-sole shoes nked against the shiny marble floors.


    ''Don''t degrade yourself, you are the savior of Steelpoint,'' Lance convinced himself.


    "Hey," Lance responded, trying not to reveal a shaking voice. Inwardly, he had been shaking since he entered the building. He could not exin it, however, at the back of his head, something told him that what he would do would pose high risk of exposure.


    "I am Chang, Executive Assistant of Mister Leric, weapons division," he said as he extended a hand. He had well-trimmed hair, a polished face, a proper corporate suit, and an authentic smile. What stood out from his facial features was his eyes. They had sharp edges like they were stretched toward his temples, and they seemed to grow smaller as he struck a smile.


    "Hi Chang," Lance epted the handshake, soft hands but strong.


    "Wee to the bombs manufacturing division," Chang said. "Let me show you around and know your team that will produce the poison bombs. Do you have an official name for it?" Chang asked.


    "Not really. I had not named it yet. But I assume that CBD will give a name for it."


    "Actually, theb guys are calling it PB 10."


    "PB 10?"


    "Yes. PB stands for Poison bombs, and ten signifies the number of trials that they are making toe up with a bomb like this. With the same objective, to poison the monsters. The RND had been cracking their heads for this, now that you discovered it, you have the right for its production." He had a friendly voice.


    One thing was sure for the neer, the CBD guys liked to have acronyms on things. He thought that he would be calling his invention PB 10 now for industrial understanding.


    "Good. It''s easier, I think." Lance smirked.


    "Now, I will take you to the production floor. I will briefly show you the other bomb-making lines."


    Chang brought him to different sections of the building. The Executive assistant took him to a room full of monitors on walls, AI voice conversing with the operators. The operators squinted so quickly but never cared for him even though the Executive Assistant had introduced the new Weapon''s inventor.


    ''Surveince room,'' He thought.


    They proceeded to the production floors using the elevator. Chang introduced him to the Supervisors, Electrical Tiers, of other lines and the superintendents, Mechanic Tiers, who were specialists in their fields. Some workers looked at him indifferently while some others said thanks to him as he passed by. At least one old man had sparked his positivity, delivered an authentic gratitude towards the hero.


    "Thank you for saving Steelpoint," he said with a friendly smile. The old man had white hairs, and a shaved beard. He seemed too old to work. Understanding the economy, it''s better to work even at old age just to survive.


    Hearing the gratitude of some workers melted his heart. He finally got to say that his invention had real impact to the citizens as he experienced it firsthand.


    However, most of them had struck deathly stares, like he was walking among them as one of the new Jail guards.


    Chang was rather indifferent as he passed by as if he was used to the scene. Somehow, the workforceprised of disgruntled employees, looking for an opportunity to spark a hunger strike against their employer. However, they would be barking against the most influential and powerful department of the Government, the CBD.


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    About four production lines were making four different bombs. Each line consisted of arge room with an estimated area of 1000 square meters. There were no dpidations in the equipment they used, they were taken care of. The lines had different smellpared to the factory in some industry. A metallic and sharp smell had filled the air. Probably, the explosive powder inside the lines that the machines would incorporate inside the bombs.


    Four different bombs were produced; electric stun bombs, Molotov bombs, shock bombs, and grenades. Producing stronger bombs, such as C4, was restricted during this age. Even the CBD could not make one.


    Finally, he arrived at the PB 10 production floor, and a familiar face greeted him.


    It was negan.

 Chapter 119 Behind Enemy Lines

    negan seemed to be devoid of the devious intent of vengeance that Lance orchestrated since the RoFlo production. Of course, as the Law dictated, there should be a TOR on every production floor. Apparently, negan was assigned to SteamHaven for a reason. Lance hated the way negan looked; his well-trimmed and gelled hair, his ssy face skin, almost perfect to look at. The very detail of a high-sser was portrayed in the guy in front of him.


    "Lance Berkley, it''s so nice to see you," negan said, wearing his devious grin that Lance wanted to punch his face.


    "negan. d that you are assigned as my TOR," Lance said. Sounding as if he had the upper hand, and worked hard to suppress his gutful hate towards the guy.


    "I am going to enjoy working with you, Mister Berkley." negan mocked.


    "Me too. I mean, Mister Leric had vested me the authority to oversee his weapons division, with the help of Doctor Zee of course."


    "Look at you. You are climbing up the ranks. And Doctor Zee behind your back, you can be the most powerful Mechanic Tier in the City."


    "Well, I am the most powerful Mechanic Tier in the City," Lance said.


    Chang stepped in, between them. "I see you already know each other."


    "From previous endeavors, Mister Chang," negan said and had his curt bow.


    Lance wondered how would negan pull the strings to be a TOR outside of AmdonCore. Usually, the TORs were assigned based on the regions or sectors. Somehow, negan had managed to haunt Lance in SteamHaven, a few sectors farther from his assigned sector.


    "What about AmdonCore?" Lance asked.


    "Well, my services are no longer required in AmdonCore, and my rtives in the Government helped me to find the most suitable job for me. And here I am. You''re in luck!"


    Lance''s production operations would be at great risk with negan on his wing. Although, negan would prove himself by a sessful production output, however, whatever mishaps that would happen, would be construed to Lance.


    Additional pressure built up upon his shoulders. When would this end? Lance thought.


    negan had a few small talks with Chang and thetter wouldugh from the former''s wits.


    "negan, as my TOR, what''s the progress now of our preparation," Lance interjected.


    Lance wanted to take revenge on negan. The tables had turned and Lance wouldn''t let negan be carefree and normal during the production of PB 10.


    "Oh," Chang smirked at Lance''s aggressiveness. "I see why Leric chose you as the Weapon''s inventor. You don''t like small talk. I like that."


    Lance only smiled at him.


    "Ok, I guess you are all set. Now that negan is also here taking care of the start-up. I guess you can manage on your own?" Chang said.


    "Of course, Mister Chang. I can find my way in the cafeteria or the bathrooms if I need them." Lance responded. Lance could not stand negan spilling false words to an innocent Executive Assistant. Although Chang had been polite ever since they met, it was apparent that the Executive Assistant was not the person to mess with. He could not exin why, but he could feel it. He could feel his stares and the way he moved and spoke, all with wisdom and efficiency, which would construe him as dangerous. Find exclusive stories on empiren/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    ''They cannot be trusted,'' Lance deduced.


    Mister Chang walked away after a curt bow. negan seemed to be polite as well in front of Chang. However, Lance knew that it was all a ploy to get back on him. The thrill crawled on Lance''s skin, thinking about the possibilities that negan could manufacture for his failure.


    "Mister Lance, we are on time with the preparations. The people here are motivated to continue with the project."


    ''Motivated? Could he not see that the people are working here under the barrel of a gun,'' Lance said.


    A few armed guards watched from above them through a deck walkway, hovering above like drones and identifying potential risks. As if they were going to gun down an erring employee.


    "Yes. negan, I need to work this out smoothly, without any predicaments. I expect that a man of your caliber can make this important project a sess. I mean we are under a microscope here. What we are going to manufacture is the most important weapon that the CBD has ever seen."


    negan stepped on, his face turned sour. And a vengeful look stered on his expression.


    ''Now the fun begins,'' Lance thought.


    "Listen here punk. I am not gonna be your ve. I can work on my own even without your assistance. So, let me be the one calling the shots." negan stepped closer to Lance''s face. He was an inch taller than Lance and had a wider body. Despite the intimidation, Lance did not back down.


    The way he spoke scared Lance. Momentarily, Lance forgot that he was more dangerous than negan. He held one of the important positions in CBD, and then he was considered a rebel spy. If he wanted negan killed, Jefferson and his band of assassins would not hesitate. But Lance was not the kind of guy who kills. He wanted to win through his wits and morals.


    "I know that negan. Since you are my TOR, I believe we y on the same objective. If you seed, I will seed as well. We are supposedly on the same page on this." Lance stared at negan without fear. He had been fearful all his life, especially in his endeavors outside the wall. Death almost caught up to him countless times, and yet he was able to escape. And a shmuck like negan should not be in addition to his demons that would haunt him in his sleep. No. He convinced himself that he had the upper hand.


    "Ok, genius. What are we going to do next." negan was testing Lance.


    "Check on the equipment instation first and the calibrations. I will check on the nt nursery," Lance said.


    "Ok, boss!" negan said sarcastically.


    As Lance ambled inside the nt nursery, an adjacent room of his production floor held the invitro propagated Aiveez nts.


    One man in a whiteboratoryb gown was tending to the adult nt harvests. Upon his arrival inside the nt nursery, the aromatic smell of the nt soothed his stress. It rinsed off the pressure that he felt since he met with negan. He released a deep sigh.


    "Hi," Lance said.


    Startled, the man greeted him back. "Hello, Mister Berkley. I am Alexander. I am your assistant nt tender for your nursery."


    Lance shook his hand. Luke guessed that this employee had a better in building rapport than the previous guys on the production floor. Alexander had no hint of derision.


    "I am now beginning to extract the nectar from the adult nts and we can begin manufacturing this afternoon," Alexander said, cing the Aiveez stalks in a squeezer machine. With one press of the button, pure nectar would be collected in a chamber, separated from other unwanted organic matter.


    "Alexander, would you care to tell me how are you here in SteamHaven?" Lance asked. He felt inside the nursery room and feltfortable talking with Alexander.


    "I guess you are just starting here in CBD?"


    "Yes, I am. This is my first day actually," Lance said.


    "Oh really. So, you did not know about the executions?" Alexander said.


    "Executions?" Lance asked.


    "Yes. If you don''tply. Or you have series of infractions despite the warnings from the management, you will be executed. They can''t afford to have someone running on the outside with confidential information. The rebels can use that information against the government."


    Lance heard about the executions from his father and Alexandar had confirmed the rumors to be true. CBD manufacturing industries had no problem recing dead employees, the city had a increasing unemployment rate. People would love to work in a factory under CBD because of the better pay offerings. However, these people don''t know that they can never get out, until their deathbed.


    "So, it''s true then. The rumors." Lance said.


    "Yes. It''s not a secret. But the CBD is a powerful department. They can do what they want without being sanctioned. It is sad to say but this is the world we are living in. And there is nothing we can do about it. A savior won''t being to free us from these shackles."


    Lance would say positive affirmations to Alexander but he rather stayed silent. He did not want to raise suspicion of anyone working under the CBD. The news had sparked a me of motivation inside of him that he would aggressively collect usable information for the rebels. It supported Lance''s theory that the Government, along with the CBD, had been killing Commoners to at least control the growing poption.


    "If you are saying that, then we are prisoners of CBD now."


    "No, Mister Berkley. We are the prisoners and you are our jail guard." Alexander said it as if he feared nothing, even death.

 Chapter 120 Friends and Trust

    Surprisingly, negan had conducted his responsibilities just as a TOR would do on the first day of production. He prepared the men, spearheaded workflow arrangements, plotted manpower schedules, and checked raw material inventories. He was actually skillful.


    However, Lance knew that negan was ying a game. And he should outwit negan to prevent a fatal fall. Lance promised himself that if ever negan would do ndestine sabotage like before, he would punch him in the face this time.


    As soon as he arrived at his condominium, he found his fabrication table was empty. Damian sessfully hauled the Ultragenerator to the rebel camp.


    All he needed to do was escape from his bodyguard''s watch. His vision trained outside through his transparent wall. His fear of being caught by the Abominated humans still lingered. There was no news on the whereabouts of those creatures. The thought of it worried him.


    Even so, he had to travel to the rebel camp as soon as possible to activate the Ultragenerator.


    A knock startled him once again.


    He answered the door and found Damian outside.


    "Perfect!"


    "Ready for a ride tomorrow?" Damian said.


    ***


    Early morning.


    It felt strange wearing the gas mask again. A diforting feeling crept on his face. His nose had difficulty breathing, or maybe the pressure that yed mind tricks on him, triggered his effortful breaths. He shoved the feeling. Such weakness in the mind should not be entertained.


    Damian drove the jeep smoothly. The dusk of dawn and the crisp of cold windshed on their vehicle, creating clusters of fog on their windshield.


    They managed to escape from the unrelenting eyes of his bodyguards. They outran them and used sudden corners that masked their location.


    "Damian, I heard that the SHF are now hunting the outsiders. Have you heard some news?"


    "Yes. I have heard from Jefferson. He restricted him from going further away from the base to trade. The ns are now in hiding. They can''t make it through the Demetrian Season."


    "It''s a strategy, Damian. It''s Leric. He''s desperate. I don''t know why. But I think they are looking for something."


    "Could it be Menks?" Damian asked.


    "There''s a possibility. I have heard also that Menks and the Corporation is secretly manufacturing a weapon of mass destruction."


    "That''s what Jefferson is asking of you. The location of that weapon."


    "I don''t know how but I will get it in time, Damian."


    "We don''t have that much time, kid. Remember that."


    After a few hours, they arrived at the prison. The fog still crept through the woods that embraced the external fences of the prison. The facility was well hidden.


    The dark overcast had a more pronounced hue, Lance had only a slight inclination that such color also would depict an iing danger ¨C Demetrian season.


    The beaten barbed wire fence still proved its stability. Two rebel guards opened the gates for them. After the barbed interlink fence, sprawled a barrennd. Dead abominated dogs were collected by some of the rebel guards and piled in locations. They burned them. Readtest stories on empire


    "They can smell us. They are aggressive now, sniffing and attacking without fear."


    "Howe they passed the barbed fence?" Lance asked.


    "Through a gap. Ourrades are fixing it right now."


    They disembarked their vehicle after they parked in front of the prison''s fa?ade. The whitewashed structure still stood with utmost integrity. Tworge metallic doors opened before them. The way it was opened, the screeching metallic hinges on the sides gave Lance gooseflesh.


    "Let''s proceed in the office. They have a council meeting now. Maybe you have something to report to Jefferson?" Damian said.


    "No. Let them be. I am just here to operate the Ultragenerator. This is way more important than facing the council."


    Lance felt further pressure on his shoulders upon facing the Council. He knew that the rebel faction was now pressed with challenges on a daily basis.


    They passed on halls with prison cells on the sides. The prison cells were converted to rooms. Family members had slept on the floors, finding ways to make the best of a ten to fifteen-square-meter prison cell.


    However, the prison facility seemed to be vast enough to amodate the rebel members and even evacuees of the attacked survivors.


    "They need weapons," Lance said.


    "Weapons?"n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    "Yes. You need poison bombs and armaments. You need high-caliber weapons that can kill level-3 Abominants. Serious firepower."


    "How can you manage that?"


    "I can design. But you should help me build them. There are many applications for the Aiveez nectar. We can use it as bullets in your weapons. We can even modify weapons, better thansers."


    "Really, how can youe up with that with your hectic schedule."


    "I will train the members to be scientists. To be like me. To navigate on fabrication tables and read schematics. I can do that. But I need volunteers."


    "I can give you volunteers."


    "We need to prepare for the Demetrian Season. And of course, the SHF raids. I will raise money for the resource procurement. Help me with my businesses."


    "Don''t worry about that," Damian said and waved to Joe and George in the cafeteria having their breakfast. At first sight of the kid, the two ceased from eating and darted to him. Their faces were stered with tion.


    "Boss!" It was Joe who shouted, and everyone in the cafeteria nced in their direction. "Have some bite!"


    Seeing the two of them had somehow made Lance rx. For all his introverted life and living alone, he considered them his friends. Trust for Lance was one of the scarce resources of this age, somehow the two had proven to be authentic. And Lance trusted them.


    "Nope, thanks. I am going to operate the Ultragenerator now."


    "I heard boss that you are hailed as the Savior of Steelpoint back in the city. You are all over the news." Joe said.


    Lance only nodded at that. Seemed the rebel members were also convinced of his worth. The news somehow had reached the Outsiders. Without the luxuries of Television, the traders talk and let the word flow from tongue to tongue and from ce to ce.


    After the Cafeteria, they went to a utility room where grime and moss had invaded. Cobwebs also crept on the corners of the room, somehow, it surprised Lance that the lights were still functioning despite the dpidations.


    Moreover, the AC in the facility had obvious inconsistency. Sometimes, he went inside rooms that would crisp his fingernails, while other sections of the facility such as the utility room felt ufortably warm.


    ''The vents,'' He thought, craning his neck towards the overheadwork of installed vents. Sweat loomed on his forehead and under his shirt. Nevertheless, he continued with work.


    His Ultragenerator sat near the fuse box and electrical panel boards. Damian, Joe, and George were behind him.


    "Now, let''s see if this works," Lance said.

 Chapter 121 Function of Ultragenerator

    Lance found a beaten, rust-filled turbine just beside the diesel-operated generator. It''s a Lithocore Turbine, 2nd generation. It must have been almost a decade since the said turbine had not tasted electrical currents. Lithocore Turbines were designed to bepatible with perpetuating power sources. Rare-level metal casings, masterwork bearings, and rotating parts, with installed frequency drivers would be able to control the turbine rotations.


    Lance took some tools and opened the casing. Unscrewing the screws annoyed him. Seeing Lance had difficulty battling the rusty screws, Joe and George helped him. They like to help him in any way they can. They felt Lance had been doing dangerous jobs, a little help at least wouldpensate for his hard work.


    After a few sweating moments, they sessfully took out the casing. Lance turned the turbine fins with his bare hands. They won''t budge. George helped, it squeaked and turned a little.


    Read new chapters at empire


    "That''s not good," Lance said after a great sigh. "We need to lubricate it. Let''s hope the shaft is still intact."


    Joe managed to spray engine oil on the rotating parts. The oil boiled upon in contact with rust. It was working. After a few minutes of application and manual turning, the shafting smoothened and the des turned easily.


    "That''s a good sign. I need to check on the controls first before we try it with energy," Lance said, unscrewing again an overhead cover that housed the electrical wirings.


    "Let''s just hope that there are no burnedponents." The mostmonponents that would deteriorate and be burned are the capacitors.


    "If there is, it won''t work?" George asked.


    "Yeah," Lance checked theponents one by one. He blew dust off that umted inside the control box, and cleaned the contacts with a cloth. "I guess, this would work."


    Damian helped with the wire connections from the Ultragenerator to the turbine, dismantling the connections from the Diesel-powered generator.


    Lance checked the connections so intricately. One wrong move would explode the Ultragenerator into a kic bomb.


    "You know that this will blow right?" Lance said and his threerades started to retreat farther from the generator.


    "Be careful, kid," Damian said.


    "Don''t worry, I will triple-check it," Lance said.


    Probable misconnections could be interchanging in wire prities which he verified first. The connections were correct. Then, he used some tools to check onponent contacts, they were also good. One loose contact and the surge of energy would escape the circuitries, causing staticbustible heat, and burning adjacent wires.


    All boxes checked out.


    "Ok, it''s time."


    The Diesel power generator was now turned off and the whole facility fell silent. The natural light from the external grounds sheepishly pierced through translucent ss fixtures right below the high ceiling. They heard the minuteints from the rebel members, echoing inside the utility room.


    "Don''t worry, kid. They know that you are here to change power," George said.


    He grazed his fingers on the lever switch. If he pulled it, the Ultragenerator would charge and would deliver energy toward the Lithocore Turbine. He felt his fingertips growing cold against the metallic surface of the lever. He felt his heart rate increased, loud thumps against his sternum. After Lance checked the fuse box and the breaker, he pulled the lever.


    The Ultragenerator hummed, and the bluish LED lights inside the equipment turned on. These were indicators that the equipment was functioning to its optimal efficiency. He heard the current energizing the infused electromaic battery, and a warbling sound emerged inside the energy elerator.


    ''So far, so good,'' Lance said.


    Rebel members slowly entered the utility room. Lance wanted them to go away for safety purposes but he was certain that an explosion would not ensue. The billow of murmurs echoed inside the room, overpowering the humming of the equipment.


    Jefferson appeared among the crowd, stepping close behind Lance.


    Lance ced his palm towards the vibrating equipment, and there were no sudden high peaks of noise and movement. He closed his eyes as if he felt theponents inside attuned with each other, working with one objective which was to produce enough energy to power the turbines, eventually generating power for the facility. He imagined like a song inside his mind, the energy particles moving in unison, glowing effectively.


    Then the lights turned on after the turbine purred, rotating parts squeaked for a few rotations, somehow smoothed after a few moments.


    The ps and the cheers came like a tidal wave inside the room. Lance faced the rebels and smiled at them, somewhat regaling the sight of happy faces because of his work. This was what drove him to motivation. The injustice that ruled the streets of the city.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Jefferson tapped him on the shoulder.


    It was a sess.


    After a while, Jefferson took him to the council members, circled on a round table. They seemed to be stressed out with the exodus they had for a week ago. They should be, with the financial reserves at the brink of exhaustion, and the dangers that lingered outside the facility and the iing Demetrian season. The season of famine.


    "Good job on the Ultragenerator Lance. We share the same gratitude across all the members of this faction," the councilwoman said.


    Lance smiled at her.


    "My pleasure, council," Lance said. "I believe I have matters to discuss."


    "You may, please," Jefferson said.


    "I believe that you need weapons. Poison-filled."


    "Yes, we need weapons. But poison-filled?" Jefferson asked.


    "I will invent guns, knives, armor, that could give us a chance against the Abominants. Come Demetrian season, we can defend ourselves, hell, we can even hunt them."


    "Why hunt if we can hide?" the older councilman said.


    "We will hunt because the trade market will stop, and the food supply will be scarce. With our weapons, we can battle the Abominants and protect caravans."


    "What''s the catch, Lance?" Jefferson asked.


    "Help me procure the material. I can make the designs and fabricate them."


    "We can''t make it in time, Lance. Demetrian season is fast approaching," the councilwoman said.


    "No need to worry, council. I will train your men here to fabricate. I will mold scientists here in this faction. Not only that we can stand a better chance against the Abominants, but also against the Government."


    "That''s incurring costs, Lance. We can''t afford manufacturing weapons here," the treasurer said.


    "Let me worry about the finances. I can raise them and I can allocate money for it."


    Lance thought about a new age. He just doesn''t want to live behind the walls and hisrades recoiled in fear during the season. It was high time to build armaments that could spark wars and fear in the Government.


    "How can you do that?"


    "I earn in patenting inventions. I can raise money for the patent. We can supply me with the needed raw materials through your dummy and legitimate trade sources, such as Damian. He has a trade license, I believe. With it, you can overprice me."


    "Can you do that? It''s a risk for audit," the treasurer said. Seemingly, this councilman had in-depth knowledge of financial audits and financial scamming. What Lance would do was financial scamming. He thought about the infinite resources allocated to CBD, especially in the weapons division. Hence, overpricing raw materials would not spark suspicion.


    "Yes, no worries. Let me handle the procurement department."


    Lance went back to the city with Damian as his driver. They went inside the western wall tunnels, essing the underground of the Western sectors. Luckily, the SHF had not found the western tunnels yet. He knew that the Special Homnd Forces were still investigating thergework of tunnels in the south. Moreover, the majority of SHF operatives had been deployed outside the walls to hunt down Outsiders.


    He went straight to the office to avoid suspicion from his bodyguards who waited impatiently in his condominium. On his viewing deck, he could see the progress of the poison bombs manufactured by the assigned line. The workers were diligent and hard-working, except for one thorn among the flower ¨C negan.


    negan stood in front of the array of busy working and functioning equipment on the production floor. He scolded people, shouted at them like ves, and pped a few heads. The workers had no chance of fighting back for they feared their lives would be at stake.


    Like sponges absorbing the bitter treatment from negan, the employees had kept their cool. Upon witnessing a disy of injustice, it boiled Lance''s blood, raging hate inside of him. He stormed outside his office and into the production floor, with heavy steps and clenched fists.


    He pressed the elevator button so eagerly that the button would plunge inside the casing.


    As soon as the elevator doors opened, Lance ambled strongly, with long strides towards the fuming TOR.


    "negan! What are you doing," Lance screamed. Out of rational thinking, Lance could be kicked out due to an immoral corporate attitude. But he could not stand the workers to be treated as ves. No.


    negan turned to nce at the raging bull that wasing from him. Lance could feel the heat converging into his brain, and umting on his fist.


    "Lance, what are you doing here?" startled, negan responded. His steps slowly retreated from the iing barrage.

 Chapter 122 No Budget Constraint Here

    negan looked tougher and bigger than Lance. But they had the same height. However, the high-ssers had not been exposed to difort and danger while Lance experienced them every day. The closer his steps to the unjustly TOR, his rage subsided. Pity overcame him. However, something told him that he should be feared rather than loved by the people.


    He disregarded the people around him. He heard only the noise that came from the equipment had ceased and silence filled the air, and only his boots against the marble floor were perceptible.


    negan was a bully. He initiated fear toward Lance ever since they met but now, Lance wore the face of a killer. negan could not hurt him, Lance had been facing monsters outside the wall. What more than a spoiled brat, ss, and soft-skinned dude would do?


    "Why are you treating them as ves?!" Lance shouted, his eyebrows furrowed.


    negan chose to retreat his steps, recoiling from the unceasing attacker. Lance persisted in his aggressive demeanor.


    As he got closer, he extended his arm and sped negan by his shirt, squeezing it hard, semi-lifting thetter to his heels. The employees remained silent but he knew they were praising a spectacle. They wanted Lance to punch him in the face, without regard for the consequences.


    "This is a vition of the code, Lance!" negan screamed, trying to unsp Lance''s fists.


    "You are a menace, negan. You don''t do things right. You are lucky that you have powerful parents who still give you positions in the factories. Without them, you are an insolent fool!"


    Surprisingly, the flow of words seemed to match his anger. It was not scripted but his fearsome gesture somehow had a mind on its own, controlling his being.


    "What are you going to do? Are you going to hurt me? You can''t do anything, or else you''ll regret it," negan squirmed.


    With immense force, Lance swung a fist to negan''s cheek. His knuckles ached against thetter''s jaw. negan fell coldly, his eyes closed andy on the floor motionless.


    And the hurt in Lance''s wrist loomed after a few moments, his knuckles seemed fractured. The cheers from the crowd grew. He was on a winning streak, he received gratitude from the rebels this early morning, and another round of apuse from the employees.


    Regret flooded his thoughts upon looking at a knocked-down brat. Others helped him while neganid t. Despite his motionless body, negan released soft groans.


    "Mister Berkley, what''s themotion!" It was Chang, his voice raised, storming towards them.


    "Mister Chang, I can''t stand him unjustly bossing and shouting at people around here," Lance exined. "He is degrading the essence of workce professionalism."


    His pre-hiring orientations paid off.


    Chang hovered over the unconscious TOR on the floor. He bent down and inspected the victim''s chest slowly going down and up. Luckily, he was breathing.


    "Wow!" Chang whispered to Lance, "That annoying brat, he deserved it. But, in my position, you will answer to your actions, Mister Berkley. I suggest you report this to Mister Leric."


    It felt good. He felt the smiles and the ease of the employees in the production line with negan lying on the floor. Some even tapped my shoulder. He was not sure though if it was a tap because of admiration or a sign of good luck, because Lance had to deal with the consequences. Or worse, to be executed.


    "Everyone, forgive me for my rage. It was not the right thing to do. Please continue working. I will be just out a bit," Lance announced and everybody listened and remained only silent. There were curt nods and smiles toward him.


    neganid on a stretcher to the clinic. Lance went to his office and called Leric via Opt. Leric was rather silent, with only a few affirmations while Lance reported the incident tly.


    Lance took over negan''s ce and supervised the production floor. Without the condescendingmands of their TOR, the workers moved in unison with precision and efficiency.


    ***


    That night


    ***


    "Lance. I am surprised that you punched negan in the face," Leric said, puffing his cigar inside his office. Smoke wafted between them, Lance settled a chair across Leric.


    "He needed to learn to handle the employees, Mister Leric," Lance responded.


    "We are tight with our policies here in CBD manufacturing. We are dealing with deadly weapons, Lance. You know that right? Therefore, there are stringent measures that we put in ce in every aspect of the Department, risk assessment to the highest level. Now, what you are doing is considered a risk in your behavior," Leric said coldly.


    "I will face the consequences, Mister Leric," Lance responded. He was not sure if what he said was the right answer, or would lead him to his execution.


    "For a few days, you have shown rage. You have not proven your worth yet to us. Don''t let me regret my decision hiring you," Leric said.


    Lance only remained silent; such a haphazard answer could be detrimental to his position even further. He only looked the head of the Customs and Border Defence Department straight into his eyes.


    "Do you know negan''s parents hold positions in the Departments?"


    Lance shook his head.


    "His father holds the City Budget Treasury while his mother is in the Governing Laws Department under Legitive bodies."


    Lance had no idea about the hierarchies of positions in the Government. He never considered studying them. He only studied how to take them down. However, if the need arises for his scheme, he would consider it.


    "No, I did not, Mister Leric," Lance responded.


    "However, I can talk to negan. Make an exception out of this. Chang told me the situation also. negan is not the best of minds, he is not also the best at supervising. That''s why AmdonCore Sectors are throwing him out. His parents pulled some strings to be assigned here in CBD. I will talk to him and exin that I will let this go."


    "Excuse me, Mister Leric?"


    "Yes. I will let this go. You will not be sanctioned and won''t go to human resources. I like the fire in you, kid. That''s why I decided to get you first before the others are looking to hire you."n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Surprisingly, somehow his heroic deeds impacted all over the City. Obviously, Leric wanted control, and hiring Lance first among others gave him the advantage.


    "Continue with your loyalty, Lance. You will be awarded. Remember, you are earning this much to retain your status in life. In this age, it is all about money. If you don''t have it, you will suffer. So, do good in my department and you will find yourself elevated."


    "Thank you for letting this go, Mister Leric," Lance said. "Talking about elevation, can I patent the poison bombs? I wanted to augment my Scientist Rank."


    Leric pped. "See! That''s the fire I want from you. The aggressiveness. It shows strength, Lance¡­ I will coordinate with Zee about this and you can have your presentation this week or the next. The question is, are you ready?"


    "I am, Mister Leric."


    Leric had a mischievous smile that was hard to read. Lance felt like a small experimental pawn that Leric would mold. Find more to read at empire


    "Second order of business. I want to maintain the momentum. I want you to take advantage of the Aiveez nectar. We build weapons out of it. Think outside the box. Guns, rifles, using nectar bullets. I mean, the limit is only your imagination."


    ''Now, he''s talking.'' What Lance liked most about working was that he could create something out of it. And as with their agreement, Lance would keep patents of the weapons he designed. And with the resources from CBD, he would be unstoppable.


    "I will show you draft designs this week, Mister Leric. I would like to know the budget if I am going to build weapons."


    "Don''t worry about the budget, Lance. But If you really want to know. I will give an initial of two hundred thousand units to manufacture weapons. Then if it''s exhausted,e to me again with new designs and the new budget."


    "Mister Leric, if I will be aggressive and knowledgeable enough to make efficient weaponry for the CBD, I should be augmenting my Intelligence grade first. Not only I will garner further studies of Science, but I will also be able to ess High Tier Markets to procure materials for my prototypes. If we will do this covertly, then, it will not be obvious if I will be the one who''ll spearhead theponent procurement as well. I believe you have read my credentials as a scrapper. I am known by my clients as a good quality inspector when ites to the scrap materials with the fair price." Lance elucidated.


    "Yes. I have read them. And I appreciate that you are keen on the quality of materials. It''s hard toe by these days especially that the scrappers are being outrageous with their pricing."


    "Not me, Mister Leric¡­" Lance said. "So, I have a pending course with Doctor Adamson. Maybe I will just adjust my schedule to participate in the courses and increase my intelligence grade.


    Chester Leric approved. It also meant that the courses that he would enroll in would be shouldered by the CBD''s budget. Now, this made Lance excited.


    Leric seemed to have infinite budget resources except for the other departments.


    ''Be aggressive,'' Lance thought as he sauntered on the road walkways of Steamhaven. Two bodyguards were fifteen steps behind him. The distance uracy still surprised Lance.


    ''What about a rail gun, poison-infused beams.'' He felt tingling on his fingertips.

 Chapter 123 Beast Bane Railgun

    As soon as he entered the room, Lance darted towards his fabrication table. He opened the schematic diagram and blueprint design maker in a touchpad right beside the controls of the fabrication table.


    ''Poison-Fused Rail Gun,'' He tried to think of a cool name.


    "Jasper, I am making a rail gun. We don''t have rail guns in our Government Arsenal."


    "I won''t say brilliant, Master." His AI responded. "It''s impractical. You need a certain size that can amodate therge energyponents to produce the beams."


    "That''s what I am thinking about," Lance started to draft his rail gun design in the touchpad. "I can do this in my free time."


    "Master, your only free time is your sleep time. You have a day job, then you have courses in the evening with Adamson, then you are designing weapons."


    "I can squeeze a little bit more, Jasper. If I won''t do this, then what good am I to Leric? He needs designs, so I will give it to him."


    "Remember, that you have a pending patent presentation this week, Master. You have to prepare for it."


    "I don''t need to prepare for it, Jasper. My poison bombs are a simple design with readily avableponents. There is no secret in that. And besides, I am patenting my invention on behalf of CBD''s name. So, the panelists would not be too hard for me."


    "Ok, Master¡­ What do you need from me?"


    "Possibleponents, maybe you can dig deep in your archives about high-powered beams that can incinerate?"


    "I do have industrial applications," Jasper said.


    "Hit me," Lancemanded.


    Jasper stayed silent for a few seconds.


    "Master, beam-producingponents are used in Metal smelting industries. They use these high-induced beams to melt metals and scraps in seconds."


    "Components, Jasper."


    "Ok. They call it the overhead Smelter. Showing youponents,"


    ----------------------------------------------------------


    [Overhead Smelter] ¨C Major Components


    [1] Adaptive Power Core ¨C Rare Level


    [2] Ion Repulsor Coil ¨C Masterworks Level


    [3] sma Arc Igniter ¨C Rare Level


    [4] Electromaic rings ¨C Umon Level


    [5] Quantum Flux Capacitors ¨C Masterworks Level


    [6] Magnocore Rails ¨C Rare Level


    ----------------------------------------------


    "Master, the possible cost of materials is around 25,000 units," Jasper reported.


    His n would work if the rebels could supply him with theponents from the scrap surviving cities. He was familiar with the otherponents and could be found in Bay City. However, scrapping in Bay City posed a high risk of Abominant threat. Although only 30% of the city was utilized by the hive, still Abominants were scattered around to form a defense for the queen.


    "No problem with the budget, Jasper. I have an allocation of 200,000 units," Lance boasted.


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    "You did well for yourself, Master," Jasper praised.


    "You can say that if that''s my money. Now, where can you give me sources of these materials here in Axe Central?"


    "Well, some of theseponents are manufactured here in SteamHaven. But for the others, you can find scraps from service robots. Third-generation-level household and Industrial grade. Some of it from the military-grade during the wars."


    "What do you mean by military grade?" Lance asked. Military-gradeponents had a level of umon to rare levels and had been disposed of in military bases outside the walls.


    "The Adaptive power core. You can scrap them fromser weapons Utility vehicles and Shielded Hummers."


    "Price difference?"


    "The Adaptive Power Core newly manufactured is priced at about 6000 units each. Refurbished and scrap Adaptive Power Cores can be priced within the range of 1500 to 2500 units."


    ''That''s half the original price,'' Lance realized a good business for the rebels. ''Damian knew the locations of the military business. He can scrap the cores.'' He thought.


    "Whatponents I can find in Bay City?" Lance asked.


    "Quantum Flux Capacitors," Jasper said.


    "How so?"


    "They are used in the power generators of Bay City, Master. They did not use perpetuating generators like in the walls that we used windmills and Lithocore turbines. The Quantum Flux Capacitors served as power capacitive banks to store and regte energies from the generators and distribute power to grids efficiently, without surges and wastage." Jasper elucidated.


    "What about the others?"


    "You can source them in high tier Scrapyards or in Higher ss Trade Markets," Jasper responded.


    "Ok, Jasper. I will be making five of them for CBD. Then I will make one for the rebels."


    "Five, Master? That many?"


    "Yes, Five. This is to flourish the rebel''s business to supply me theponents. It would give them ample ie to produce weapons on their own."


    Drafting the design was always easy. However, the challenge for the design was the internal workarounds, fitting all theponents in the casing. It took him tiresome hours with the digital drawings.


    For hours, he rested. As he woke up in the middle of dawn, he could not sleep back. His somnolence had escaped him. Thoughts drove rage against what Leric said, be aggressive with the inventions. Moreover, a disturbing need to augment one''s rank.


    "Jasper, can''t sleep. Show me currency status," Lance sat on the bed and groaned.


    He needed to know if the Zelkian trade business was sessfulst night. Damian took care of the business and Lance offered him additionalpensation to take care of such transactions with the Mafia.


    ------------------------------------------------------------


    [Name] Lance Berkley


    [Rank] Mechanic Tier 3


    [Currency] 21,000


    [Previous transactions]


    Donation to rebels ¨C -3000 units


    Zelkian Transaction ¨C +2400 unitsn/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    -----------------------------------------------------------


    By looking at his holographic profile, he then knew that the Zelkain transaction was sessful. He transferred an amount to Damian worth 750 units and Joe for 200 units.


    That made his total currency worth 20,050 units.


    With that amount of currency, he was rich.


    ''Ok, Damian. We will start trading parts.'' Lance thought, thinking about Damian and his band of misfits.


    However, he needed Leric''s approval first for the designs before he could procure the materials.


    Early morning, Lance mustered the confidence and proceeded to Leric''s office. Leric was also on an early start of work, signing documents via hologram. The major roles of heads of departments if not only signing electronic documents, but also scolding subordinates.


    Leric would spend hours just reading documents, scanning them, and signing them. Lance was not sure of the extent of powers, Leric had, however, the former knew that his control extended beyond his department.


    Lance only hoped that Mister Leric would sign his railgun design.


    "Mister Leric, good morning. As you have said I need to be aggressive in inventing weapons. Here it is," Lance handed his Digital Tablet to Leric.


    "Hmm¡­" Leric scanned the digital blueprints. "This is actually great. Full vehicle mount?"


    "Yes, Miste Leric. Heavy weapons category."


    "Railgun huh? This is new. This is groundbreaking if you can pull this off. How much do you think is the budget for this?"


    "Around 80,000 to 100,000 units," Lance responded.


    "Hmm¡­ If you carry on this momentum, I will promote you to Weapons Design Supervisor. And an increasedpensation of course."

 Chapter 124 Electrical Tier 1 Promotion

    "That''s good to hear, Mister Leric. I am looking forward to climbing thedder and giving great service to the Government, especially to the CBD."


    Leric sometimes had stares that were not condescending but inspecting. Probably, he had been inspecting Lance''smitment to the Government and to the cause. "What motivates working under me?" Leric prone.


    Now, this question was a test of Lance''s loyalty. Lance anticipated it though.


    "You hate the Abominants as much as I do. That''s why I am looking to great lengths to eradicate these monsters that threaten our existence in this world. We are the residents of this and they are not going to seed inpletely eradicating us. I will work on that endeavor and I know we will seed."


    Leric held the kind of stare that would intimidate someone who would lie. However, Lance was telling the truth, although only portions of the truth. Still, though, they weren''t lies.


    "Hmm¡­ You are something, Lance. I can see why Jaqi is so fond of you¡­Well, on other matters, I scheduled a defense presentation for your patent this afternoon. Think you can handle it? Or should I just reschedule?"


    "That''s great, Mister Leric. I am prepared to defend my project."


    ***


    ''That sounds good,'' Lance thought about it. After Leric''s meeting, he went downstairs on the production floor. negan was absent and he took over. The production of his PB 10, its official name, was driven within schedule.


    After the lunch break, Lance went to the Science Awards Committee or the SAC and presented his PB 10 project. He was confident because themittee knew that what he would present was under the ownership of CBD.


    As expected, Jaqi was there, and two others, Doctor Zee and Doctor Cultz. Surprisingly, Chester Leric sat in a corner behind Lance as a spectator. Lance stood in front of the clearing where the panelists encircled. It was the setup, however, the atmosphere was different. Probably because of Mister Leric''s presence.


    Jaqi threw the first questions after Lance''s brief project introduction. They had no bad blood with each other, however, as themitteepelled Jaqi to maintain a professional distance from Lance.


    "Mister Berkley, as the founder of the Committee on Illegal Scrap Use, I questioned the procurement of the Aiveez nt. I have reviewed my mother''s database about the origin of the nt, however, she said that it''s been gically engineered for decades, spearheaded by Terrabitha City of the South. How did you manage to acquire such a nt? Does this mean that you went outside the wall and acquired adult nts to propagate?"


    The question caught Lance off guard. His confidence seemed to fade inside him, invaded by cold sweat and difort. It''s hard to lie if one is not used to lying. And Lance had been always truthful. Only to the point of not telling the whole truth, and only the portions of truth were revealed in terms of his identity and his membership in the rebels. However, in this case, he should lie.


    "I haven''t studied about the Aiveez nts being poison to the Abominated creatures. Someone shared it with me and I collected them in the barren of Commoner''s sectors. At first, the scent of the nt tinged my interest and I used it to give aroma to my cabin. You know if you are a scrapper, the scraps you collected will give a foul greasy odor that lingers in the air of your room. The Aiveez nt solved the predicament for me. Then, I observed that I did not have the nuisance of Abominated rats ever since. That''s when I studied about the nt and it worked."


    He knew that Jaqi could only suspect the origin without evidence that Aiveez came from outside the walls. Hence, Jaqi did not pursue further questioning Lance about the source of the nt.


    During the deliberation stage, there were only simple and few questions being thrown at Lance. Chester Leric kept silent behind the shadows that were made from the statues inside the room.


    Even though Leric uttered no word, his presence helped him ease the presentation.


    The presentation only took one hour to wrap up things. Lance''s previous project presentation would take about three to four hours.


    "First of all," Doctor Zee said, "on behalf of the Committee, we would like to thank Mister Leric for his attendance and his support for the cause of Safety within the walls of Axe Central City. Secondly, I would like also to extend my gratitude to the savior of Steelpoint. Mister Berkley, as usual, had given us a seamless presentation and answered all our questions so confidently. It only means that Mister Berkley is a dedicated Scientist who is ideal of such a concept. All Scientists should ponder the drive of Mister Berkley, rising so fast at a young age. It has been obvious that this project is approved by the members of the Committee and will proceed to Patent rmendations."


    Soft ps loomed inside the room.


    "Therefore," Zee continued, "We offer Mister Berkley the chance to promote his ranking from Mechanic Tier 3 to Electrical Tier 1."


    Lance had ceased from sweating and released a deep sigh of relief. He thought that he had been holding his breath for a long time.


    "Of course, as GLD administrative orders regarding Scientist Rankings, Mister Berkley is also offered a 20,000 units reward for his hard work in his invention."


    Mister Berkley bowed and thanked the Committee. Lance nced behind him to look for Chester Leric, but he was not there anymore.


    After his presentation he wanted to grasp a moment with Jaqi, however, there were project presenters who were waiting for their turns outside the hall. So, Lance exited the defense room and regaled his sess.


    ***N?v(el)B\\jnn


    In his Condominium


    ***


    -------------------------------------------------


    [Currency] 41,000 units


    [Current Transaction] SAC reward of 20,000 units


    [Rank] Electrical Tier 1 ¨C pending application


    -------------------------------------------------


    The next day, he went to the Science Aspirants Registrations Service (SARS) to register his pending application for Electrical Tier 1. As usual, the hall heaved with the guffaws of Science Aspirants. But it was different now. Young Scientists came to him for electronic autographs of his photo that was being circted by the Media. Below his photo held the title of the article, Savior of Steelpoint.


    Amotion had sparked a little, turning the heads of the high-ss Scientists who shared the same hall. They seemed not to care about the famous young Scientist. Lance never liked the spotlight, but the people had been talking. His fame soared high since the attack. People panicked during that time, creating a spike of unrest in the rest of the sectors within Axe Central City. And Lance''s poison bombs or the PB 10 contributed to their sess in defending it.


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    "Assessor Mari, I am here to process my promotion. Here are my credentials," Lance said as he approached Mari''s desk after a slight gathering of fans around him.


    "Wow! You are something, kid. What is it now?" Mari seemed not to care about the fame Lance had garnered.


    "Electrical Tier 1 and the perks registration,"


    "What? For about five months, you managed to achieve that high? You should be in the world records now!"


    Mari gathered his credentials and scrutinized them. Afterward, Mari gave Lance the perks of being an Electrical Tier 1. The list tinged another business interest.


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