The deeper Sebastian ventured into the labyrinth of Outpost Rust, the worse he felt.
His physical synchronization was actively fighting the Void Toxicity, turning his internal biology into a brutal battlefield of conflicting source codes. He coughed into his hand.
When he pulled it away, his black leather glove was stained with a mixture of bright red blood and glowing green pixels.
"Perfect. Now I'm sweating RGB lighting," Sebastian grumbled, wiping his hand on his pants.
He navigated a narrow, trash choked alleyway illuminated only by the flickering pink glow of a broken neon sign overhead.
He had spent the last twenty minutes asking shady, back alley merchants for Server Filters. Most of them had just laughed in his face or pointed guns at him.
Server Filters were high end, premium contraband. They allowed players to safely digest foreign god cores without their brains melting out of their ears. They weren't sold next to the cheap health potions.
