The watch dictated 01:47:33 hrs. before the time accorded with Sor-Harach.

  Becker and Magic-Man cautiously moved through the byrinth of empty cubicles, dead instruments, and calcified corpses fused to the floor or the chairs.

  Not even the security droids survived the hermetical isotion, frozen in their final guard positions defending this lowermost level nevermore.

  Only a few pces were caked with dust so much it resembled grey velvet.

  A high cylindrical center stood proudly ahead, and at the bottom near the hardened door, a corpse so crusted it could have been a macabre marble artistic piece. In its hand it held on to a hilt with a little bit of the bde still on it.

  With the door's console turning on, the two entered clearing the room quickly before Magic-Man went to work.

  Becker: How long will the process take?

  Magic-Man: If the instructions are correct, about fifteen minutes.

  Touching the main terminal with the device, he waited for a moment for the system to boot, the green lights being their only source of light. At the very middle of the room was another cylindrical container with mechanisms slowly churning to life at the sudden jolt of electricity.

  Magic-Man: I'm not sure if ripping out cables will keep our objective intact.

  Becker: We may have to accept that if the gibface riot descends.

  Keeping guard over the entrance, Becker picked up on a few vibrations resonating from on high with faint pings masked by the clicks and prangs coming from Magic-Man typing away at the terminal.

  The elevator they rode was kept down due to the emergency button being engaged, while the others did not lit up.

  In the dead of air, Becker paid attention to whatever small whooshes flew by in the air.

  *Whoop*

  It was more pronounced than before, coming on from high presumably from a crack in the ventition.

  *Whoop*~

  If the grotesque horrors in the other levels were meant to be stay hidden, today might be the day all get revealed, even if the inheritos will not know what to do with it.

  Magic-Man: "Hai!" "Yatta!"

  Gushing out cold clouds of air, the cylindrical center parted in half. From the small crack Magic-Man observed the jumble of cables and tubing connected to a bright blue, metal sphere with protrusions from which the wiring connected to.

  *Whoop~*

  Becker: How much?

  Magic-Man: Almost done!

  Snapping on his rubber gloves, Magic-Man tightened them preparing a duffel bag to carry the loot.

  *Ping*

  Becker: Elevator inbound!

  Without waiting for the process to complete, Magic-Man disconnected the shell from its holding wherever possible, plucking away one cable, then several.

  Tensing himself up to avoid sprinting ahead, Becker's shoulders hardened with pain as the unreadable script above the elevators dialed down to their level.

  One more cable snapped off, and the shell was free to be shoved into the bag. With a small camera at the ready, Magic-Man snapped photos of what was on the main terminal before slipping it inside his coat.

  Magic-Man: Move! Head for the exit!

  And so he sprinted, like a wound-up spring released of its tension. They skimmed through the dry-rusted robots, past the high tech gear more fit for a cybernetic dungeon than legitimate research. They hopped over what cables were on the ground, long ago fused into mounds and barely illuminated by the torch lights. A few meters before they could make it out of the byrinth, the countdown slowed.

  Halting Magic-Man with a gesture, Becker turned around to indicate him into silence and to spread out before shutting his light off.

  As the room went back into darkness, their posture went prone behind what little cover there was.

  *Ping*

  A foul, hot steam emanated from the opening doors, and as the light inside shined brighter, the varied hides of the occupants were made visible: melty, scaled, wax-like.

  *Graww~*

  Criscrossing their shots, Becker and Magic-Man made sure none of the genetic failures could be more than bullet sponges down to the st bullet on their magazines.

  When the doors went fully ajar, the two closed the distance, reloading their weapons and keeping their weapons at the ready. On the fresh corpses the pair noticed burnt flesh, bckened net-patters, scorched boils, and shrapnel burned in their mutited forms. Pustunt fluid mingled with dark liquid rouge in a nauseating gruel.

  They were already walking dead, and the gunmen took them off of their pain.

  *Whoop~*

  Magic-Man: It's all coming to an end, at st.

  Becker: No time to get wankered over it.

  Once inside the other elevator, the stop was deactivated and both ascended, with the lights dimming and the car rocking every once in a while.

  Taking out a sheet, Magic-Man peeled a sticker off of it, and pced on the wall, the cartoon dog giving off its sly smile towards the two.

  Becker: You realize it's only us back on Earth that understand the reference?

  Magic-Man: *Mhhm*

  Becker: And this is all going to be buried?

  Magic-Man: ...*Mhhm*

  All the same, the sticker went up.

  Becker: What matters now is expediency. I suspect our ghastly hosts will not mind us exiting from the front.

  Magic-Man: You first, "bu-oy-o."

  *Crush*

  As the elevator made its stop, the pair found the area barely recognizable. Though the elevator section was rgely intact everything beyond the threshold was pounded and ripped asunder with barely enough room to run through. Obscuring much of the vision were the plumes of smoke from getinized fme sprayed over the rubble, the dust from pulverized wall kicked up the sky, and still visible ahead the other half of the structure.

  Running through the chaos of twisted metal and broken stone, occasionally climbing through the mounds of fractured architecture, the two stumbled upon or stepped over dirty, limbless corpses. Whatever their failed dispositions, for what brief moment they were passed over, they resembled humans - their broken forms, their ruptured appendages, their meat bits could not be distinguished anyway.

  Making it over to a colpsed sb, the pair banced themselves as they walked by. On one side were jagged lumps of rebar and boulders of debris. To their left was a peculiar scene - some sele'kwai were pocketed in by a small ke of fire and ruins too high to climb.

  A few desperate could not take it and ran straight into the inferno, their shadows melting away until they vanished. Others tried to pile on one another to climb onto the sb. Whenever their hands or protrusions reached close to the pair's feet, they stomped hard or quickly paused to fire upon them.

  *Whish*~

  Almost bolting it, Becker and Magic-Man threw themselves on the other side of the sb and onto the dirt. Pulling Magic-Man over, Becker pced him between himself and a nearby boulder.

  *CRACK*

  The projectile exploded mid-air, bringing down more chunks of the building down in a deafening crash. The shock wave sent the dirt below flying like mist, and as the air calmed down, the crashing bits of rock sounded off with more prominence.

  As the two men brought themselves back up, the muscles on their bodies felt so bnd, their minds so rocked, they would rather loaf around and recover their strength. They checked their earplugs to make sure they were still in pce, finding themselves pinching hard at the skin near the ears to get themselves back at the moment.

  Trudging towards the exit, Becker and Magic-Man checked their weapons as the dust settled down in the cooled air. No more screams or crackling of the fmes. Fidgeting inside the duffel bag, Magic-Man sighed heavily when he noticed that nothing was cracked.

  Once outside, the vista was bsted and the sky polluted from the bombardment. Taking out his binocurs, Becker observed further ahead. A few rge pops here and there, flickering balls of fme in mid-air, and lots of shadows moving hitherto.

  *Boom* *Boom* *Boom*

  The city continued to be pounded with no noticeable coordination with the timing nor any clear objective to destroy. Pn or no pn, the enemy would soon descend down. If God could see this pne, only He would know what were the intentions of the invading host.

  Pouring out from the rubble were all manners of walking dead. Wretches with torn limbs barely dangling from strips of skin, yabouts sobering from their jenkem by coughing out their lungs until blood spttered on their chests, walking pincushions with steel and wood pecking their sickly bodies. Those more conscious wasted no time to push down those they wanted to loot, and even the injured fought among each other for any piece of cloth they could substitute for a bandage.

  A dreadful sight it might be, but Becker and Magic-Man were in no mood to entertain this lot. As weak as their muscles may be, they mustered the strength to raise their weapons and carve a path through the streaming mass. Even the most zombified of the weak understood what the muzzle pointing at them meant, so they paused and let the others walk by. Those too far gone from the present were edged away by the muzzle, like a light tap from a stick to cattle.

  *Prick* *Prick*~

  The rain came down in a heavy fsh.

  When the two gunmen reached the riverbed, the escaping "residents" colpsed among each other as the mud sucked them in. Lifting their legs as if scaling a mountainside, the gunmen made their way onto the hillside road where some of the junkies watched the unfolding spectacle further down on what was left of the Wailing Husks.

  As they hiked it up, they washed their faces and gulped some of the rainwater, spitting out the foul grey matter that had made its way in their throats.

  It was their only reprieve in all of this.

  They trudged along, not bothering to take into account how long their trek was until they at st they found Sor-Harach armed with a rod.

  Holding his palm up, Becker indicated to him that they were friendly.

  Sor-Harach: Becker?!

  Magic-Man: Ah, the Jumping Squirrel! Nice to make your acquaintance at st.

  Sor-Harach: ..."Jumping" what?

  Magic-Man: You're the one always sneaking into our encampments pying with our stuff. You "be-re-i" lucky you're on our side.

  Through his mischievous grin, he continued to mumble off in his mother tongue, though the exhaustion and congested throat made his deep accent more unpronounceable.

  Becker: I told you it was his job to know about you.

  The watch dictated 00:38:33 hrs. before the time accorded with Sor-Harach.

  Off to the distance, the bombardment stopped, but there was to time to be spectators of what happens next.

  The group packed up and continued to ride hard and fast west-by-northwest. They went up and down the hills and through the mountains, green with grass and carpeted with thick heather.

  They negotiated their way through valleys of custrophobic crags emptying in forests of dry trees soaking up the heavy rain that tattered their branches and drowned their roots.

  They continued to ride well after nightfall until they reached another height engulfed with the low clouds whose water ceased hours ago. Their small campfire was the only warmth the three could use to dry up.

  And through the day, more flocks of birds flew south.

  Magic-Man *Magic-Man to Radical-X. Magic-Man to Radical-X. Is any outpost receiving? Over.*

  Radio: *Magic-Man? This is Observation Post Red Eyes. We were beginning to worry you were dead. Over*

  Near Magic-Man Becker wrote into a bnk page of a leather bound notebook.

  Magic-Man: *Inform Colonel Wilrd: Crystal Ball secured. Repeat: Crystal Ball secured. Also inform him that I bring two-plus along with me. Over.*

  Radio: *Identify the two individuals. Over.*

  Magic-Man passed the radio over to Becker.

  Becker: *Fernsby. Is that you? This is Colonel Becker. Good of you to stay alive so far. Over.*

  Fernsby: *C...Colonel?!...*

  The radio went silent.

  Fernsby: *We thought you left us for good.*

  Becker: *Listen, inform my brother that I have a soldier from your employers, and that I need to speak to him at first opportunity. Estimated arrival time will be sometime tomorrow before mid-day. No proper roads where we are. Over.*

  Fernsby: *Wilco.*

  Passing the radio over back to Magic-Man, he resumed to writing on his notebook. Magic-Man asked for any recent developments.

  Fernsby: *Orders are: Empty Landeska; All units to assemble for immediate evacuation; Radical-X will exit at the same time as leadership; Observation Posts to monitor enemy activity unless enemy presence too encroaching. I'm only gd we did not have to abandon you. Over.*

  Magic-Man: *What is the status in the securing of Ne-Gaski? Over.*

  Fernsby: *Captain Oxley and his squad were sent over to keep an eye on the detachment days ago. Radio silence, I'm afraid. Over.*