Quoted By:
The door clicks open, and you slide out into the darkness of night- insofar as that existed down here. Frozen shards of dirt gently crunch beneath your boots, and you begin making for the corner of the camp, beyond the small circle of light cast by the embers of the fire, and the interior lights of each truck.
“Going for a piss, Leb?” A voice softly calls, and you turn to look up at Erich, peering up from his position inside the triangle of vehicles.
“Yes.” You say, nodding. “I'll be back shortly.”
“Kay, be careful.”
You turn away again, checking your side for your laspistol as you make you way into the ring of darkness around the camp. The ground grows dimmer and dimmer as you walk, and you find yourself wishing that you owned a stablight. Navigating solely by your merely human night vision was a pain, although the light down here wasn't pitch black. If you squinted, you could see the faint outlines of trash and rubble around you well enough to walk without tripping. The ‘stars’ were dimmer tonight, and you wonder briefly if the sky beyond the hive was overcast or the new moon was approaching.
Stopping at the edge of the circle of light, you listen for a moment. The foundations were exceptionally quiet beyond the regular winds that rushed past, but if you just barely listened...
It was a sound like settling metal, a hiss of static and a sigh of regret. It came on the wind, and yet you felt it through the ground, in the soles of your shoes and your feet. Whatever it was, it spoke without words, like an old man in his final days struggling to move his lips. There was regret, mourning and shame, and it hung in the air like thick steam that you could feel yourself pushing through as you walked.
<span class="mu-i">"Tankborn..."</span> The voice came again, rushing like static. It issued from open pipes and from under overturned piles of scrap metal, echoing without truly rattling the metal. New words came with a renewed effort. <span class="mu-i">"Stand... speak..."</span>
You keep walking, acutely aware of the light of the camp shrinking away behind you. This was further than you had ever come before- almost as far as Cad had ever drawn you off the trail of buoys.
Yet you were getting close. To what, you weren't sure, and a part of you whispers fear. Yet, you couldn't help but be drawn forward, knowing that you should stand before what was calling to you. That it was mighty.
Good, perhaps not. But mighty.
Your feet stop, and you stare into complete blackness. There was nothing before you- at least, nothing that you could see.
<span class="mu-i">"Tankborn..."</span> The voice called again, repeating as if it's own words were echoing. Inhuman, but quiet, <span class="mu-i">old</span>. It did not bounce or issue from the ground this time, but it came from the air in front of you, gently buffeting you with the merest whisper. Whatever it was, you were standing before it.
>"I am here."
>"Who is this?"
>...perhaps you shouldn't be here.
<span class="mu-b">>Use the blowtorch as a light.</span>
>[Write-In]
