Chapter 96: The Camp
The crew quickly fell into formation, following Ignis.
Moiré remained on high alert, drifting silently on the flank like a ghost, her sensory suite wide open, sweeping every corner.
Rebecca and Pilar had holstered their heavy weapons, but their hands hovered near their sidearms, ready for anything.
Sasha and Kiwi continuously monitored the electromagnetic spectrum. Their neural interfaces were running hot, trying to parse the network architecture and data protocols of this alien world.
But the feedback was a wall of unrecognizable code and intense background static—an impenetrable barrier of noise that blocked any deep intrusion.
They passed through a wide corridor. Spherical lumens embedded in the rock walls cast a stable, cold white light, illuminating the passage as bright as day without a flicker.
At the end of the corridor, the light changed, shifting from the artificial cold-white to a natural, somewhat jaundiced daylight.
When they finally emerged from the tunnel at the cavern's mouth, the sight before them struck Maine's crew—veterans of Night City's neon chaos and vertical sprawl—with a profound, heavy awe.
The cavern opened into a depression within a massive valley. Spread out before them was a nascent encampment.
The architectural style mirrored the cavern's interior: brutalist, extreme functionalism.
Towering watchtowers stood like steel giants on the perimeter. Mounted atop them were strange, archaic defense weapons with polygonal barrels and complex energy-focusing arrays. Thick power conduits snaked up the towers, pulsing with an ominous, lava-like dark red light in the thin air.
Massive vehicles, resembling mobile factories or fortresses, were parked at the edge of the clearing. Their armor was thick, their exposed exhaust pipes emitting a low, constant rumble, like the breathing of sleeping beasts.
The entire camp was shrouded in an orderly, yet bone-chillingly cold, atmosphere.
But what unsettled them most were the "residents."
Most wore red robes similar to Ignis's, in varying shades. Their bodies were heavily replaced with metal.
Some had only limbs replaced, but many were extensively modified, their chests encased in heavy plating, their heads covered by various metal masks or hoods, revealing only glowing optical lenses.
Their movements were precise and efficient, but lacked the natural fluidity of humans. Their communication was brief—bursts of static-laced binary or low, guttural commands. The camp permeated with an inhuman, cold sense of order.
"There are... so many of them..." Rebecca whispered, instinctively edging closer to Dorio. A flicker of fear passed through her green cyber-eye.
These red-robed metal men felt more terrifying than any ganger in Night City—a primal revulsion born of the sheer difference in life-form.
Pilar shrank back, whispering, "Feels like we fell into a robot nest... Are they... still human?"
Falco silently observed the camp's layout and the patterns of movement, trying to discern the organization's operational model.
Sasha and Kiwi showed great interest in the tech, but were equally wary. The tech-tree here was clearly divergent from anything they knew.
Ignis seemed accustomed to their reactions. She didn't stop, leading them straight to a row of isolated, prefabricated metal barracks on the camp's edge.
She stopped and turned to face them.
Her synthesized, soft voice spoke again, but the content was undeniably severe.
"This will be your residence for the next three days." She gestured with a metal arm. Her movement was precise, without wasted motion.
She paused, her optical sensors seeming to scan each of their faces to ensure reception.
Then she continued, the warning in her tone explicit. "I must remind you again: this planet is designated a 'Death World.'
"The environment outside the perimeter is extremely hostile, far exceeding your standard parameters.
"Furthermore, the vast wastes may harbor unrecorded dangers."
Her voice was steady but heavy. "Therefore, you must remain within the designated safe zone of the camp.
"Do not attempt to venture into the desert out of curiosity. Do not touch or probe any equipment or devices you do not understand."
She emphasized finally, "This is for your own safety, and to maintain the order and stability of this place, which cannot be disrupted."
With a slight nod, she turned and left with her servo-skull, leaving Maine's crew standing before the tents, looking at each other.
The massive metal cavern, the eerie red-robed cyborgs, the "Death World," Joric's vague "experiment"... the flood of information was overwhelming for minds just recovering from trans-dimensional travel.
"Boss... what exactly are we right now?" Rebecca looked at Maine, confusion written on her face.
Maine watched Ignis leave, looked around the cold, alien camp, and sighed heavily. He shook his head, his rugged face grim.
"I don't know, Rebecca," he answered honestly. "But the Boss said three days. For three days, we stay alive, and... we don't make trouble."
He pushed open the door to the barracks. Inside were simple but adequate facilities. "Get inside. Rest up. Check gear. Falco, log environmental data. Sasha, Kiwi, try to set up an internal comms-net, see if you can find any holes in their local network, but be careful. Do not get caught."
The crew filed into the barracks, temporarily shutting out the confusion and fear. But they all knew: these three days would not be easy.
On this strange "Death World," they had to face potential environmental threats and adapt to a world of metal, gears, and cold logic utterly unlike Night City.
And Joric's true intent remained a fog over their hearts.
(Author's Note: Three chapters to start. I'll grab dinner, should be 15 updates today.)
(End of Chapter)