January 28th
1 PM
A Ruined Hospital
Saudi Arabia Outskirts
A designer boot lashed out, smashing into the side of the decrepit vending machine. With a mechanical whine and a wheeze, a colorful styrofoam container clattered into its tray, where a waiting set of painted nails greedily swiped it up, holding it into the green-tinted light as it filtered through the crystals that covered the building.
Shrimp flavor.
Damn.
Four days, she thought.
It's been four days, and still nothing.
It was all because of that damn woman.
As soon as she'd gotten a glimpse of Vulyn in the Medius grasp, she'd headed for the closest medical facility she could find... and concealed the Medius as best as she could, hidden beneath a series of camouflaged tarps that would only conceal it from the most thickheaded of raiders. The Raubtier was as good as lost, and she wasn't daring to venture back to see what had happened to Zan-El, or that accursed dragon-looking thing that had shown up.
She gave the machine another well-placed whack, causing it to shudder and deposit something else. This time, a can of soda rattled into the receptacle, and she quickly pulled the tab, throwing it back in a grateful swig.
Well, she thought... At least the equipment worked.
Downing the entire rest of the drink in one go, she crumpled it in her hand, and looked down the hall at the one remaining room, where they'd gathered everything they could. Time to see if she could get past... "Security."
She strode off toward the source of the light, letting the can rattle to the floor behind her as she did.
In the distance, unawares to the woman, a machine hovered.
It was no fighter jet, nor was it the sleek form of an Opus. No, it more closely resembled... a dragonfly almost, wings beating against the air as its camera eyes clicked together, surveying the surroundings. The DEC corrosion of the landscape caused it little difficulty, and while it was no Cornix, it hailed from an entirely different line of engineering that was more... practical, as it were.
The photograph of Eris it had just captured was run through databases... and returned an affirmative result. The Directory were in luck, it seemed.
The Tsentr Project would soon be back on tis feet.
1 PM
A Ruined Hospital
Saudi Arabia Outskirts
A designer boot lashed out, smashing into the side of the decrepit vending machine. With a mechanical whine and a wheeze, a colorful styrofoam container clattered into its tray, where a waiting set of painted nails greedily swiped it up, holding it into the green-tinted light as it filtered through the crystals that covered the building.
Shrimp flavor.
Damn.
Four days, she thought.
It's been four days, and still nothing.
It was all because of that damn woman.
As soon as she'd gotten a glimpse of Vulyn in the Medius grasp, she'd headed for the closest medical facility she could find... and concealed the Medius as best as she could, hidden beneath a series of camouflaged tarps that would only conceal it from the most thickheaded of raiders. The Raubtier was as good as lost, and she wasn't daring to venture back to see what had happened to Zan-El, or that accursed dragon-looking thing that had shown up.
She gave the machine another well-placed whack, causing it to shudder and deposit something else. This time, a can of soda rattled into the receptacle, and she quickly pulled the tab, throwing it back in a grateful swig.
Well, she thought... At least the equipment worked.
Downing the entire rest of the drink in one go, she crumpled it in her hand, and looked down the hall at the one remaining room, where they'd gathered everything they could. Time to see if she could get past... "Security."
She strode off toward the source of the light, letting the can rattle to the floor behind her as she did.
In the distance, unawares to the woman, a machine hovered.
It was no fighter jet, nor was it the sleek form of an Opus. No, it more closely resembled... a dragonfly almost, wings beating against the air as its camera eyes clicked together, surveying the surroundings. The DEC corrosion of the landscape caused it little difficulty, and while it was no Cornix, it hailed from an entirely different line of engineering that was more... practical, as it were.
The photograph of Eris it had just captured was run through databases... and returned an affirmative result. The Directory were in luck, it seemed.
The Tsentr Project would soon be back on tis feet.