The heavy blast door far above had completely sealed with a metallic thud, leaving the deep, unmapped drainage junction beneath the chemical chamber in a state of damp, suffocating isolation. Thick waves of green toxicity still rolled lazily along the ceiling grids, but the lower drainage floor remained cold, wet, and filled with the steady dripping of industrial runoff. In the dim perimeter glare, a group of figures wearing reinforced gas masks and non-encrypted tactical gear moved with practiced, silent efficiency through the shadows. Their dark coats dragged through the shallow puddles as they converged on a heap of shattered concrete tiles and torn polymer plates.
"Check the vitals immediately," the masked faction leader commanded, his voice muffled and deeply distorted by the mecha
