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DATA LOSS // LOG 06: The Cost of Living
I’m lying in the radioactive dirt, my skull splitting open from the crystal feedback, and my maximum Integrity has just withered down to a fragile d4. I can barely remember my own name, let alone how to play nice. Grafton stands over me, hand resting casually on his pistol, waiting to see if I’m worth the investment of his medical kit.
I look at my inventory. I've got one pristine, glowing green SOUL chip tucked into my clone coveralls—the life essence of the corrupted worker I put down in the Outskirts. In this corporate hellhole, a SOUL chip is the ultimate currency. Trading it away hurts, but you can’t buy anything when you're dead.
ROOM 1: THE SUBSURFACE JUNCTION (CONCLUDED)
"Alright, Grafton," I rasp, coughing up a bit of synthetic fluid. I reach into my pocket, pull out the glowing wafer, and let the green light catch his filtration mask. "One fresh SOUL chip. It’s clean, uncorrupted. It’s yours for the medical pack."
Grafton’s eyes lock onto the chip. He lowers his pistol a fraction of an inch, clearly appraising the value. He’s a weary salvager, but he isn't entirely heartless—or maybe he just knows a good deal when he sees one. He reaches into his tactical vest, pulls out a pressurized medical cylinder marked Medic8, and tosses it onto the ground next to me, snatching the SOUL chip out of my hand in a seamless trade.
DRM LOGISTIC PROTOCOL // USE ITEM: MEDIC8
Injecting neural stabilizers and cellular regeneration nanites. Resetting organic baseline.
I slam the cylinder directly into my mangled thigh. The machine chaps and hisses, pumping ice-cold synthetic fluid through my veins. The effect is instantaneous. The ragged flesh on my leg knits back together with a sickening crunch of rapid cellular growth. The blinding white pain fades into a dull, manageable ache.
I stand up on two good legs. I am no longer injured or hindered. My body is completely repaired, though my mind still carries the deep, permanent scars of that crystal discharge.
Janse is no longer hindered by injuries! However, our Arcwire Tool is still broken from the electrical blowout. Before Grafton leaves, I'm going to use my remaining item—the canister of Repair Gel—to fix the tool while I have a moment of relative safety.
Item Used: Repair Gel. Arcwire Tool status restored to OPERATIONAL.
I crack open the can of corporate Repair Gel and smear the gray, self-assembling compound over the scorched casing of my Arcwire Tool. The gel hums, sealing the melted circuits and rebuilding the internal emitter. The small diagnostic light flips from a blinking warning red back to a steady, functional green. We are officially back in business.
THE LOWER SHAFTS
"Pleasure doing business with you, clone," Grafton grunts, pocketing my chip and turning back toward the dark upper transit tunnels. "Keep your distance from the lower shafts if you value whatever mind you have left. Something down there is waking up."
I ignore his advice and push deeper into the mining network, my operational Arcwire Tool gripped tightly in one hand. The narrow, reinforced tunnel slopes drastically downward, leading to a massive subterranean cavern. The air grows incredibly heavy, vibrating with a deep, deafening mechanical roar.
I peek around a rusted structural pillar and spot the source of the noise: an Industrial Mech. It's a crazed, walking bulldozer, an automated mining machine that has completely lost its programming. Its massive hydraulic shovel arms are repeatedly smashing into the support beams of the cavern ceiling, causing heavy rockfalls and threatening to cave the entire sector in on top of us.
Behind the rogue machine, I can see a heavily reinforced door leading to the Labs Elevator, but to reach it, I have to get past this multi-ton rampaging engine of destruction.
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