Lux Locus: Fractured Family

Zenith rushed through the maze-like structure of the massive factory, often finding himself in rooms completely alien to him which housed power converters several meters high, or others where a platform covering a massive gap to an assembly line below stood.

"I can't find my way around this place, even with this blasted map!" Zenith slapped his arm during his complaint. "Well, the best thing to do is to try and go in the direction you need to and hope the paths you take lead you there."

The prosecutor continued onward, still not finding any cultists during his trip, but did end up in a massive area scorching with heat. He had stumbled into a 'lava pit' where molten metal was kept in massive pools below a grated floor. Giant, super heated mixing paddles moved around on a path connected to a thin conveyor far above the pools. They were ensuring that the metal would not cool for a second until transported to a container.

Several giant, interconnected cylinders jutted halfway through the grated floor. Some were tasked with sucking up the molten metal and distribute them through pipes that could easily suck up Zenith and then some. Others were tasked with letting new molten slag through it and into the pool below, letting the bright light splash against more of itself. All the fumes, gases, and superheated air were being vented via the very loud ventilation system working at full capacity in the walls.

Zenith groaned. "Had I still lungs they would be cooking right now." He looked around, taking in the fumes and his surroundings. "Although I shouldn't be surprised by the presence of this pit considering I am in one of the forgeworks branches."

He lifted the hatch of his 'face' and pulled out three filled vials, performing the same actions as always, but his dance was interrupted by two giant puwandese ripping metal doors from an open floor above off their hinges. These aliens were an extremely pale white and with faces apparently devoid of skin. They were bloated and heavy, yet seemed all the stronger for it.

"Yeh thenk thehs is theh vehicle holdehr?" one wondered.

His companion punched him in the head. "'Course it isn't! Theys not made yet. Still hot slag. See?" he pointed downwards.

"All oy see is sem gump hume...S'he one of ehrs?"

The second puwandese scratched his head, taking a moment to evaluate Zenith's attire. This let the prosecutor empty the contents of his vial on the grated floor in a very specific pattern.

"He's neht one of da Fat 'Un's gumps."

He raised an oompher up high while his companion took out a massive sledgehammer made from junk lying around. The oompher let loose a volley of bullets that bounced off Zenith's metal body or went around him.

"Damnable things. I didn't think any of the blue aliens of the fat god would be ignoring fighting." He was taken out of his thoughts by a bullet hitting him in the neck. "If I stay here for much longer like an idiot, I'll be killed. And yet..."

The wielder of the hammer jumped down, the height being several dozen meters in the air. His landing brought about a resounding crack of bones that made Zenith cringe internally, and yet, the puwandese did not care. His sights were set on killing Zenith.

"Oy'm gonna kill yeh 'n den oy's gonna kill yeh again!" he declared.

The prosecutor shook his head at the nonsensical proclamation and hurried away from the bullets and the charging puwandese. Had they any observational skills, they would've seen what Zenith had done to the floor after jumping down. The puwandese with sledgehammer in hand broke the grates eaten away by the toxic and corrosive substance and plummeted not-so-silently to the pool of molten slag.

"Ey! Theht's cheaten!" the remaining puwandese bellowed.

There was no time for thought when the ai tasked with maintaining the pool of molten slag let scream its warning sirens, and the pool saw its contents bounce and wave.

"Warning! Contaminants detected in basin. Organic and impure metal compounds. Please evacuate the area while the metal is remixed and filtered to remove contaminants."

The many platforms and connectors to the pipes, containers, and mechanisms linked to the pools detached and slowly raised into the air, raising some red flags for outsiders. Zenith heeded the request and ran towards an exit further away. From where he was standing, it appeared to be a large room with another industrial lift in it, and he indeed need to get to a lower floor. The prosecutor found himself under fire by the pale barbarian whilst trying to flee.

"First yeh cheet, thehn yeh troy teh run aweh?!" the puwandese shouted. "YEH'RE NEHT GONNA GET AWEH THEHT EASILEH!"

The prosecutor dumped more of the corrosive fluids onto the floor as he rushed along and was being shot at, eventually reaching solid ground and rolling into the open chamber of the elevator. The thick, metal security were starting to close from top-to-bottom slowly, letting a few more bullets pass through the closing gap. The man punched the buttons to go down, and luckily, or rather, thanks to the old designers, the elevator immediately closed its reinforced shutters and rushed downwards with astonishing speed.

Zenith checked his body, noticing a few holes and chipped pieces of metal. "Nothing too severe, thankfully." He picked out some large bullet shrapnel and threw them away. "Looks like I'm going to reach the same floor as the depot." He scratched his head. "So it was moved, then? Stupid, unreliable, outdated..."

The elevator stopped with a 'thunk', throwing the man off-balance and open to the massive storage chambers open. Multiple drones hung from their dedicated path on the ceiling and the walls, some having giant cargo containers in hand. The first chamber Zenith had been lead to was just an assembly of containers, boxes, and bags, all ready to be labeled and shipped off or waiting for their tagging. The many beams of light above barely illuminated the gray walls and floor, but were blindingly bright enough that even the lack of light refraction didn't let the immense depot turn to partial darkness. The next chamber, several minutes away by running, held what Zenith came for.

"Prosecutor Canka?" a voice called out from afar.

"Yes," he answered.

The prosecutor hurried over to the source of the voice, seeing a good hundred-or-so of his regimentaries and local law enforcers. Several of them had been laid next to the massive walls separating the two sections of the depot, many gravely wounded and moaning in agony. Others were currently preoccupied with trying to activate the many hellbenders waiting to be used.

"We made it through with the law enforcement," Zenith's regimentary stated. "The cultists have been breaking through the debris and what little defenses we put up," he explained.

An enforcer stepped forward. "There are also oni in the factory," she added. "There are reinforcements pushing them from the back, however."

"So they're being funneled this way."

"Yes. I believe we can stop them if we could get those damnable vehicles to start, if only for the turrets." She scratched the back of her head. "We have enough ammo around here to fully supply them, though."

Zenith focused his sight upon the vehicles. "and what is wrong with them?"

"The hatches refuse to open. These turrets are quite strange, compared to the ones we're used to."

Zenith was perplexed. "Aren't these the same models?"

The enforcer shrugged. "Seems they were updated with more secure hatches."

"Then get a welder and cut through the latches. We don't have much time!" the prosecutor shouted. "The cultists and demons will be here soon, so get the wounded into empty containers with the field medics to protect them from stray fire."

"But won't they attack the vehicles as well?" the regimentary asked.

"Of course not. They came here FOR the vehicles. Without them this whole endeavor will have been pointless, and we'll be able to pick them off one-by-one." Zenith walked in a circle, formulating a plan in his head. "Since we're outnumbered but they have to go through a chokepoint--"

"A chokepoint big enough for a tank to go through and rotate its turret fully," the regimentary interjected.

Zenith ignored the passive-aggressive comment. "We'll need to place traps, create firing towers out of what we can find here." He turned and pointed to the elevator he came on. "And deactivate that elevator. I saw multiple doors on my way down, and we don't know if they'll try to flank us from there."

The enforcer nodded. "We won't be able to last long if they use that."

The regimentary pointed to his comrades. "I need our demolitions team to chop that elevator down."

Three stood up immediately, saluted, then rushed off, two of them wearing large, black backpacks filled with various explosives deforming the rough fabric into strange shapes.

"Additionally, are there any of you here that can you use magic?"

The regimentary shook his head. "The most prominent amongst both parties were wounded. All that's left are the rookies."

One of said rookies timidly raised his hand. "W-well, I can still create a short burst of mana that acts like a beam of plasma."

Zenith nodded. "Then you'll be on the first line of defense when the cultists and demons come rushing through."

"R...right."

"Let's get to work, soldiers! NOW!" he bellowed. "Find any explosives we can use as trip-bombs. Others like trip-wire darts! Come on! Let's go!"