My brief stint as an investigator slowly spiraled away, to be replaced by something horror-adjacent. Even when life threw surprises at me, they were usually in the shape of people trying to punch or shoot me.

To hear some unknown lurking deeper within the belly of this industrial beast made me uneasy. Not because I was afraid of things that went bump in the night. I just didn't want to have my eyeballs explode out of my skull. Not unless I got some cool replacements.

"League confirmed our message. They aren't pressuring us to continue." Clara crossed her arms, while her eyes focused on the door to the factory interior.

Roxy shook her head. "We can't just leave, though. They know that, even if they don't say it."

It was in the nature of heroes to solve problems, after all. We were already here. Whatever had killed these people could be stopped. If… it was something we could punch or shoot, at least.

[There's a risk, as we don't know what we are dealing with. We need to confirm whether there are any survivors, however.]

The techie nodded. "I have been able to narrow down the possible cause of this form of death to several options. None is likely, given our geographical location and rarity of said potential culprits."

[Are we equipped to deal with any of them?]

"Hmm." She tilted her head to the side. "Oddly, yes. That isn't to say we aren't at great risk, Gunquake, but I believe we would be in a more precarious situation if this were an attack by armed criminals or mutants."

Not exactly as reassuring as I had hoped. This was odd. So far out of the ordinary that I could almost understand why we had been sent here. We had seen death. Dealt more of it than most in the city. Experienced what the strange wastelands had to offer. It wouldn't surprise me if Kingston had a better idea of what was actually here. Getting rid of his best assets on a whim would be incredibly incompetent.

"Am I the only one suffering here?" Roxy turned her glare toward us. She was trying to cover her nose, and her eyes were running.

"While my inability to taste assists in muting the smell, there is still an uncomfortable film… a thickness to the air here." Clara shrugged. "Also, with cybernetic eyes, I am unlikely to lose them if the enemy is using sonar or psychic attacks."

[I have a gas mask. The odor is unusual, however. Much worse than any normal dead body.]

From deep within the facility, another dull clattering sound interjected. It sounded like a broken pipe rolling down steps, or perhaps being thrown.

"Psychic," the super murmured. "Fantastic."

I glanced back at the corpses. With their clenched jaws and missing eyes, it was easy to imagine them trying to struggle through an intense noise or mental attack. No bleeding from the ears, though. Even with the obvious lack of eyeballs, there was something else about this that didn't sit right.

[None of them are armed. Remind me of the security in place here.]

"Wall mounted external turrets. Not dissimilar to our old ones, Gunquake. There should be a security room further in."

[So either they didn't see the threat approach, or it didn't come from outside.]

Clara furrowed her brow and looked over at the door we had left open. It hadn't helped with the ventilation, and the fading sunlight made it feel as if we had a time limit for this. "There should be several different lockdown procedures. None were activated."

[Interesting.]

"Tiring," Roxy corrected. "I'm checking the locker room."

I stood and gave her a nod. Gun-arm up, I moved behind her to offer support. A steel ball might not be enough for whatever problem lurked in the factory. It wasn't just the odd ways in which the workers had died that itched at the back of my brain. There was something else in the texture of the air here.

Magic? No, not quite. Whatever it was, I was growing more annoyed by the minute.

Clara was right about our being the right trio for the job. I had no mouth. She had false eyes. Roxy could be a lot more inventive with her powers than she even realized.

Roxy pushed the door open and stepped inside, fists at the ready. Three seconds of silence, and then she lowered them. Clara walked around the desk to rifle through the drawers as I stood behind the super.

A long room, the left and right walls lined with tall lockers, dark gray. Through the center of the room were flat benches, upon which another employee lay dead. Closed jaw and missing eyes.

"If only we were properly equipped," the techie said. "I have a device that could scan the bodies to determine internal injuries. I'm pretty sure it survived the fire."

Roxy was already pacing into the locker room, eyeing up the tall metal containers flanking either side as if a monster could leap out from them. She stopped by the body and glanced back at me. "This one bled from the back of his head. Looks like he cracked it, falling back onto the bench."

[This was a quick event, then.]

"We could look through each of these lockers for clues." The super gave the nearest one a gentle kick. "But I feel awkward fucking around when there's an unknown someone or something lurking around."

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I gave a vague grunt and let my lens take in the room.

We didn't even know the noise was an entity. Whatever had killed everyone here clearly wasn't human, but if that was the case... what was it doing here in this out of the way processing plant?

Other than two toilet doors, it didn't look like the locker room led anywhere else. Just a place for the workers to store personal items before they had to get suited up and enter the facility proper.

"Nothing much of note in here," Clara eventually said, shutting the last drawer. "Historical rotas that are too dense for me to assume there is any kind of hidden pattern. A file containing contact information, mostly industry associates. Random stationery." She leaned forward to inspect the mug on the desk. "Minor coffee spillage on the side closest to the outer walls."

[Jostled during their death throes? Or perhaps a shockwave.]

The techie furrowed her brow and looked around the room. "I would expect to see other signs of applied force if that were the case. Internal hemorrhaging. Debris. Bodies flung in a similar direction."

I nodded. We were getting closer to the truth, but the bigger mystery prevailed. There was only one thing for it. I turned back to Roxy, and the super had an odd smile on her face.

"Blocked my nose with dried lava," she exclaimed, her voice oddly muted due to the self-imposed affliction.

[Impressive. We're moving into the facility. It's likely everyone here was hit at once.]

She nodded and came out of the locker room. "Sure. If I lose my eyeballs, then you are buying me new ones."

[Can't you make new ones with lava?]

"Probably not. I'm… very reluctant to use my powers anywhere near my face." The super stepped over to the closed door. "With exceptions."

It was still remarkably impressive to me that she had pooled some into her lungs during the Chevalier fight and survived with little more than a dry cough at the end of it. I didn't really question exactly how her power worked. Her body had some way of being immune to the lava… although perhaps it wasn't technically lava, but some magical-adjacent substitute born of her ability.

Roxy pushed into the next room. Something of an airlock, or decontamination room. On the left were full-body radiation suits with gas masks. The right side had chemical showers. Since the facility's main function was burning hazardous waste, this made sense. Most of the racks where the suits hung were empty, since the workers would be inside. Two filled suits lay on the floor beside each other.

"Looks like they were just having a conversation or something." Roxy kneeled down and turned one over. "No eyes. Poor bastards."

[Although the suits didn't help, it might be a good idea for you two to wear one.]

The super gave us both a glance. "Maybe we'll find something that fits." She stood and went over to the racks.

Clara was busy frowning, and it wasn't about the prospect of getting suited up. She was looking directly at the bodies. I could tell why.

[Not enough mess for ruptured eyes.]

The techie nodded. "If they were ruptured by a shockwave, I would expect eye matter to be splattered across the clear shielding of the hood."

[Yet they weren't taken cleanly, either.]

Roxy passed over a suit to Clara, clearly unimpressed with the idea of pulling on one herself. "League better be paying us big time for this… or Kingston owes us a massive favor."

Mercenary work could often be varied and unusual. I wasn't sure that greater pay would be our reward for this little detour, but Kingston would want to keep us happy. It was a necessity, really. While he protected our existence in the city and wielded us like a sword, we could easily become double-edged. Knew too much. Were effective in solving problems. He needed to ensure he never became one.

Probably an awkward relationship if one of us got too big for our boots. Untenable.

Almost like the suit Clara was trying to fit in. "Do they really employ no small men?" she complained, the knees and sleeves of the dirty gray protective clothing baggy.

"Mine is uncomfortably well-fitting," Roxy added, looking a little crestfallen in her almost-flattering radiation suit.

The workforce here was all human male. Not entirely uncommon for this type of job to lean that way, but the lockers didn't even have a female bathroom. Even in the dirtiest and most crime-ridden areas of the city where I'd had the displeasure of murdering targets, there was always some degree of diversity.

[Did you get the details of the owner of this place?]

Clara nodded, her green eyes illuminating the interior of the hood. "Ownership changed two years ago after the founder passed away. Rights were sold to a company called… L Ment Disposals."

[Any change in employment activity after the changeover?]

She frowned and looked to the side for a moment, going through information in her version of the STAR. "First six months had a comparatively high turnover, although that in itself isn't unusual with a change in management."

Roxy crossed her arms, her fiery glare over at the thick door that would take us into the facility. "In this sort of factory, though? I can't imagine the workday changing much no matter who was in charge."

I was narrowing down the possibilities and not liking what was being left on my plate.

[Regardless. The sooner we find answers, the sooner we can be home. Or back at the hotel.]

"Joy," the super said, and rolled her eyes. She agreed, however, as she went up to the thick door leading into the facility. With a sigh through the filters on the suit mask, she pushed on through.

My V-Force drive hummed into life instinctively, but after she had a good look at the corridor beyond, she raised her gloved hand and gestured for us to follow.

The floor beyond was metal plating, and dirt and grime filled every groove and indentation throughout. Rather than open to the factory floor, this was instead a chamber with a raised ceiling and several smaller adjacent walls. Straight ahead was a wide blast door with a keypad to open it.

Clara awkwardly clopped in her loose boots over beside me. "That should be open, Gunquake. If not in lockdown, then the only time it is closed is overnight."

[Since there are no sounds of passive machinery, it is like they closed early.]

There was only one dead body in this wide hallway. A suited body lay face-first against a door as if he had been killed partway before trying to reach for the handle. Even the lighting here was grimy and dull. Cleaning and regular maintenance were clearly lacking.

Roxy stepped over to the body and raised a finger to the faded sign over the door.

Security.

She tried the handle. "It's locked."

The groan of twisting metal came from beyond the blast door, slowly increasing in volume before something cracked. A crash vibrated for several seconds before the facility fell silent again.

[Get us into security. We'll check the cameras to see what's in there.]

The super picked up the dead body and chucked it to the side as respectfully as possible. She assumed a position to strike at the locked side with an open palm, but paused for a moment. As if she were considering how hard to strike the door. Too hard, and it might alert whatever we were sent here to stop. Not hard enough… and she'd be ruining her strength hero credentials.

It was only a momentary hesitation, and he hit it with precision. There was a metallic pop, and the door shook open a couple of inches as broken elements of the lock dropped to the floor.

I had my eyes on the other three closed doors, just in case, but they remained closed and quiet.

Roxy pushed the door open slightly. "One dead, seated. Clear."

The three of us slid in. It was a small room, with a chair and desk on one side in front of a collection of maybe two dozen monitors. They were all switched off at present. Clara approached the console and flipped a switch.

With a brief hiss, the monitors flickered into life. My insides tensed up as Roxy gasped.

Almost two dozen eyes stared back at us directly through the cameras.

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