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You remembered the tarot reads - there should be an empty room. And if you operated the 'unseen mechanism', you wouldn't attract any unwanted attention, right?
You scanned the warehouse. Stacks of plastic pods of very different sizes, each resembling a sarcophagus much like yours, filled the space. They were all anchored to a central beam, and your basic Tech-Priest knowledge kicked in - this had to be part of the mechanism you noticed earlier. A massive lever jutted out from the side, clearly linked to the anchoring system. With a decisive pull, the warehouse hissed as the pods depressurized. You darted behind a mountain of crates, seeking refuge and a better vantage point.
Across the vast space, an office with large glass windows nestled within the warehouse caught your eye. Stacks of paperwork piled up in it promised valuable intel. It was empty too. Perfect. Slinking through the shadows, you inched closer, your heart pounding a frantically. Suddenly, a clear, tomboyish voice sliced through the tense silence.
"A little further, Pachita! Now to the right!"
A flicker of movement snagged your attention. A shimmering tear in reality, veiled by heat distortion, sliced through the air. It screamed like a thousand birdsong chirps as it zipped toward a the group of montruous humans. Their emaciated figures stood transfixed.
"Pachita, now! GO!" the voice commanded with urgency.
The tear erupted in a blinding flash, sending the mutants flying like ragdolls. Your mind reeled. A fucking witch? You crouched low, seeking cover. At the warehouse entrance, you saw it. A super stacked young woman in a revealing black party dress, wreathed in electricity crackling around her convulsing body, her eyes white and glowing with unholy power. The voice was coming from beside her, but you couldn't get an angle to see who it was.
You dove deeper into the warehouse, adrenaline propelling you towards the office. Another shout, laced with urgency, sent another tear in reality screaming into existence. The warehouse shuddered with the force of the explosion, punctuated by the staccato of lasgun fire.
"PSYKER! PSYKERRR, SHE'S OUT!" A mutant's panicked bellow echoed through the warehouse.
"Hold tight!" The leader's voice boomed in defiance. "We almost there!"
Another explosion rocked the building, followed by another chorus of lasgun fire.
You finally slipped into the office, the din muffled by the thin walls. Rows of dusty files loomed before you. Bureaucratic nonsense: manifests, voidship clearances, technical jargon. Then, a glimmer of hope. A schedule with a map. Automated railcart schedules with a map of this very docking area. These could be your ticket out of here. Half were going into the docked voidship, the others... out of it, into logistics stations further ahead. A potential escape route.
