Salvage Station: Poltergeist (Escape from Club Apophis, 47)

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STORYLINE:  The Safe Zone held its breath differently than the rest of the sewer labyrinth.

The air here carried no scent of rot or rust. It was simply absent, as if this pocket of stone existed slightly outside the world's normal processes. Sound moved with a sluggish hesitation. Ghost's own footsteps arrived a half-second late, leaving the cavern to decide whether to acknowledge his presence at all.

The 1929 Ford Coupe sat anchored in the center of the rock shelf. It was still smoking. 130 years had passed, and the vehicle had not yet finished crashing.

As Ghost explored the car’s mysterious Entropy Engine, his wrench shifted position whenever he turned his back. The antique radio clicked and hissed without a power source. Condensation dripped from the ceiling in tight, rhythmic patterns that sounded entirely too deliberate. The car's rounded headlights pulsed a sickly yellow, twice, then died.

Ghost registered every anomaly. He forced his hands to keep moving anyway. Distraction meant death. He had to stay focused on the immediate task: salvaging enough cursed energy to construct a bomb and rescue his pack.

What troubled him most was not the poltergeist. It was the vehicle's engine block. He had never seen technology like this. A few scattered fragments looked familiar. He could puzzle out others through context, but the liquid core remained completely baffling. This was not electricity. This was something engineered decades ahead of its time.

Driven by sheer frustration, he wiped grease from his gloves, climbed into the front cabin, and stared at the reclined, mummified nun. Leathered skin clung to her skull beneath the tattered black habit. He checked the glowing blue display on his wrist-mount, calculating his shrinking window of time.

He looked back at the driver's seat.

The nun's head was now pointed directly at him.

Ghost scrambled backward out of the vehicle. His heavy boots hit the mud with a wet slap.

The dashboard radio flared to life. Static hissed, sharp and biting. It grew louder by the second until a woman's whispered voice bled through the noise.

"Stop."

"Stop."

"Stop."

He paced the length of the rusted chassis, checking the countdown on his glove again.

"Stop."

"Stop."

"Stop."

Ghost slammed his heavy iron wrench down on the hood’s frame. A sharp clang echoed through the cavern. He aggressively tapped a command into his haloglove, projecting a single, blinding blue word into the dark.

SILENCE.

The static cut out instantly.

He turned back to the exposed machinery and carefully gripped a thick, braided wire.

His wrench lifted, then flew past his ear. The iron caught the edge of his collar and missed his temple by a fraction of an inch. His datapad lifted off a nearby supply crate, spinning in the dead air. The headlights flickered in a rapid, erratic strobe. Both car doors slammed open and shut in a violent, deafening mechanical frenzy.

Ghost marched to the rear trunk. He grabbed a thick canvas blanket, dragged it to the driver's side, and threw it completely over the mummy's head.

He did not expect that to work, but the frantic rattling stopped immediately.

He walked back to the front grille and leaned deep over the engine block.

The heavy steel hood slammed shut with the force of a guillotine. If his reflexes had been a fraction of a second slower, the metal would have crushed both his hands into paste.

He gripped the rusted lip and tried to force the hood back up. It remained locked tight, resisting his leverage entirely. He braced his shoulder underneath and shoved upward. Nothing moved.

Ghost let out a long, ragged breath. Defeated by the broken physics of the cavern, he collapsed into the backseat, and stared out the shattered window at the rushing black sewer water. He could feel every precious, unavailable minute slipping away into the current.

His gaze drifted back to the front seat, fixing on the blanket-covered silhouette.

The blanket-covered nun’s head was still turned his direction.

He reached forward and yanked the canvas away.

He quickly tapped a message into his haloglove. Glowing neon text projected onto the humid air.

I AM GHOST. I AM MUTE. BUSY. MUST RESCUE FRIENDS. NEED BOMB.

Absolute silence settled over the leather cabin. Then, a faint, garbled whisper emerged from the copper speaker mesh on the dashboard.

"Sophia. That was my name."

The static hissed. "I built this engine. Stop."

He tapped a single, demanding response.

WHY.

"Entropy Explosion. Time rift. …Or worse."

The sound of the rushing subterranean river mingled with the low electrical hum of the haloglove.

Ghost steadied his breathing and typed again.

HOW EXIST IN SAFE ZONE?

"I am not evil."

HELP ME.

Ghost manipulated his wrist-mount. He projected a saved image of his college friends, displaying Minjo, Plague, Echo, Lisa, Kyra, and Kyle huddled together in the dirt of The Pen. He typed below the image.

CAME TO RESCUE FRIEND. WAS KIDNAPPED.

He updated the projection, pulling up a stolen surveillance feed of Jihoon. The boy lay comatose in the center of the Museum of Catastrophes. Bright lines of violet Zone energy snaked into his pale flesh. His chest rose and fell in perfect synchronization with each cursed energy pulse.

The holographic light glitched, casting fragmented purple shadows across the ancient wooden dashboard and the hollow eye sockets of the nun.

"Recent?" the radio buzzed, the voice trembling with static emotion.

He tapped.

TODAY.

He watched the hologram, and tried to imagine Sophia’s point of view, watching the violet lines Entropy power pulsing into a young man’s chest. The rhythm of it. Her creation used for an evil purpose.

A single drop of condensation struck the metal roof of the car. Then another.

The headlights slowly dimmed to a dull, amber glow. The car’s Entropy Engine gave one final, ragged spurt, then went entirely cold.

Darkness swallowed the cavern. The only illumination came from the faint, passing trails of bioluminescent algae swirling in the distant water.

Ghost waited in the absolute dark. The roar of the rushing river sounded hollow in the engine's sudden absence.

Sophia did not speak.

Minutes ticked past.

With a soft rustle of dry fabric, the canvas blanket slowly slid from the mummy's shoulder. It pooled onto the rusted floorboards with a heavy thud.

The radio crackled. No voice followed.

He leaned forward, listening intently to the white noise. The static shifted, adopting the distinct, rhythmic cadence of human breathing

He understood, with sudden clarity, that the silence was not malfunction. It was grief.

He tapped his screen one last time, projecting a final plea into the blackness.

HELP ME SOPHIA. CEREMONY TOMORROW.

The metal frame shuddered. The engine hummed once. It was a low, resonant vibration, sounding exactly like a machine exhaling after holding its breath for nearly a century. The twin headlights flickered on, burning steady and brilliantly white, slicing through the cavern gloom.

With a sharp metallic click, the car hood popped open.

"Let us begin," the radio whispered.

...

On Him, Ghost:

Jumpsuit: Starlit Endeavor - Machina Jumpsuit Set [mesh](Salvage Station)(1985L)

Wristpad: Starlit Endeavor - Machina WristReader Wristpad[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Hair: Dura - B95-HAIR [mesh]

Headband: TRASH - Covenant Unrigged Headband [mesh]

Gloves: LANEVO - Silence Gloves, LegacyM, Fatpack [mesh]

Head: LeLUTKA - CAMDEN 4.0 [mesh](3990L)

Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:

Bootle: ISHIKU - La Mer Swing-Top Beer Bottle[mesh](Salvage Station)(480L)

Spooky Eyes: HAUNT - Little Void - Puddle[mesh](Salvage Station)(159L)

Radio: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina ChatterBox Radio[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Boombox: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina LoopCrate Boombox[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Datapad: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina OmniDeck Datapad[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Flask: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina Rations Flask[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Toolbox: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina Toolbox[mesh](Salvage Station)(650L)

Wrench: Starlit Endeavor -  Machina Wrench Gift[mesh](Salvage Station)(Gift)

Cannisters: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler II - Cannisters [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)

Oil: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler II - Oil[mesh](Salvage Station)(100L)

Radio: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler II - Radio [Dark][mesh](Salvage Station)(140L)

Corpse: ContraptioN - Wrapped Corpse [mesh]

Car: Dirty Rat - The Botched Job [mesh]

Setting: Dirty Rat - Sewer [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shots, hi-res, midday sky:

Engine Room: The Dokkaebi Guard (Escape from Club Apophis, 38)

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STORYLINE: Kyle Baek pressed his back against the cold, polished wall of the GIN AESTHETICA™ service corridor. He was breathing hard. The pristine, high-tech clinic was a labyrinth of sterile white lights and locked doors, and he was completely cut off from the rest of the team.

He slammed the sleek, handleless door panel with all his body weight. It didn't budge.

Kyle rolled his eyes and pitched his voice into a nasally, upbeat whine to imitate Plague. "Just in and out, guys. Steal tech. Grab samples. Easy.”

He kicked the base of the reinforced door.

A shadow peeled itself off the adjacent obsidian wall.

Kyle nearly swung his fist, but a leather-clad hand clamped hard over his mouth.

Hwan materialized before him. Green skin. Purple hair. Eyes burning amber in the dim corridor light. The full, true face of whatever the hell Hwan actually was.

Kyle stared at him for exactly one second.

"So that's what you look like," he said flatly. "I've seen worse." 

Hwan pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhh."

"I’m tired of people giving me shitty advice," Kyle muttered fiercely. He dropped his voice into an overly dramatic, gravelly whisper, throwing Hwan's exact mystical tone right back in his face. “Without something to love…” Kyle sneered. “Yeah, yeah. I don’t need something to love.” He shoved his arms into the heavy Enforcer coat. "I need something to break. Preferably a door."

Hwan smiled. "And yet... here you are."

He seemed to listen to something Kyle could not hear. Then his gold eyes moved to something behind Kyle. Every muscle in the Guardian's body locked rigid.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Kyle growled.

A slow, repeating clap echoed through the corridor.

The ambient temperature in the hallway plummeted, and the heavy scent of oriental spice and clove washed over them.

Kyle froze. He turned around slowly.

"Oh please... don't stop on my account." MasterGin loomed behind him in a sheer white tunic. The ancient vampire was fresh from berating Nurse Paine. His flawless face still held the sharp, ugly lines of his rage. But as he looked at Kyle, the anger melted into intense, predatory curiosity.

Hwan bowed instantly, locking his eyes on the floor.

Kyle stood stiff as stone in the oversized coat. His broad shoulders stretched the dark leather. His jaw was clenched tight.

"My, my... what a marvelous temper." MasterGin glided forward, tilting his head. He did not attack. Instead, he began to circle Kyle. His stilettos clicked a slow rhythm on the floor. He looked Kyle up and down, assessing his heavy musculature and the aggressive scowl permanently etched onto the boy's face. "All that noise, and not a drop of fear in it. How delightfully unrefined."

MasterGin leaned in close to Kyle’s neck and inhaled deeply.

"Mm... earth, smoke... iron," he purred. His long eyelashes lowered slyly as he glanced over at the trembling Guardian.

Kyle didn't move. His jaw tightened further.

"Naughty little Dokkaebi," the vampire scoffed. "Where have you been hiding this strapping specimen?"

Kyle bit the inside of his cheek to keep his mouth shut. The vampire had mistaken his stubborn human rage for a goblin spirit.

"Is he a reliable guard?" MasterGin asked. He traced a gold-tipped claw down the silver buttons of Kyle's stolen coat.

"Oh, yes, Master Ginerva," Hwan stammered quickly. "I have seen him endure a great deal of strife to achieve his mission."

Kyle's lip curled in disgust. He wanted to stomp on Hwan's foot.

"You will do beautifully." MasterGin smirked at the growing rage on Kyle's face. "My previous staff has proven tragically incompetent today. Follow me, Grumpy Dokkaebi. I have a special assignment for you. I require someone solid. Someone who does not bend. To protect my most precious asset."

MasterGin turned.

Hwan shot Kyle a desperate, pleading look. ‘Please play along.’

Kyle snarled silently. He adjusted the heavy collar of the coat and fell into step behind the vampire, who strutted forward as if walking a runway.

As they descended, the architecture mutated. Sterile white walls gave way to polished obsidian, and rich velvet drapery that had no business existing this far underground.

They emerged onto an ominous glass walkway suspended over an eerily glowing subterranean cavern.

Long gelatinous tendrils hung from the ceiling, pulsing with faint internal light. Kyle recognized them. He wished he didn’t.

Phosphorescent fungi rose like pillars from the cavern floor. Glowing moss draped from stalactites, too still, like it had decided not to breathe.

Kyle knew what this was. He remembered Hwan warning the team about this place.

They were not walking into the belly of the beast. They were already inside it.

This was MasterGin's private garden. His nursery for the things that turned people into something that no longer resembled people.

Kyle grabbed Hwan's sleeve. The heavy, gilded glass doors at the far end of the walkway hissed open. There was no time.

Hwan refused to move forward. He gave Kyle a steady, reassuring nod, almost satisfied, then executed a sharp Monstrum-style salute. "Master Ginerva, I leave him to you now."

MasterGin waved him off without bothering to look back. "Ta ta."

Hwan caught Kyle’s gaze one last time.

Kyle could have sworn that demon bastard just winked at him while disappearing in a soft, pink-tinted curl of smoke.

He stared at the empty space where the trickster had been standing.

A soft hydraulic hiss filled the silence. The glass walkway began retracting, pulling back toward the suite, section by section. It was retreating toward the suite’s balcony ledge, exposing the deadly drop to the garden far below. Bioluminescent spores drifted upward in slow, beautiful spirals through the widening gap.

Kyle stared down at the neon sludge. He remembered exactly what Hwan had said about the terrifying things that lived in it. His eyes tracked the retreating walkway, then at the growing chasm.

"Do catch up, Grumpy Dokkaebi," MasterGin called out without turning around. "I would hate to have to replace you so soon."

Kyle gritted his teeth. He took three quick steps backward, then launched himself into a running jump. He crashed heavily onto the remaining glass section. It shuddered under his weight.

Kyle could have sworn that he heard that vampire diva snicker.

They stepped off the walkway and onto the private balcony overlooking the garden. MasterGin pointed ahead and spoke quietly. "This is my future."

Inside the opulent, dimly lit bedchamber lay the exact reason he was here. Yoon Jihoon rested on a massive, velvet-draped bed. He looked like an object placed on display rather than a boy sleeping. One of his long silver locks had been haphazardly snipped off, the cut end ragged against the pillow.

The vampire turned to Kyle. His icy eyes found security guard in the dim light, catching him staring. "Will you protect him with your life?"

Kyle snapped his arm up into a crisp, flawless mimic of Hwan’s salute. "Yes Sir," he said, his deep voice rumbling with absolute certainty. "No one gets past me. You can rely on it."

"Oh, I know." MasterGin smiled. "See that you do." He turned and glided away. The heavy doors sealed shut behind him with a final, mechanical thud.

Kyle stood alone on the quiet, lavish balcony. The footsteps faded into absolute nothingness.

He slowly lowered his hand. He stepped up to the reinforced glass of the suite and placed his palm flat against the cold pane. He looked at Jihoon. The dare. The shove across the Zone border. Jihoon in the baseball stadium shrieking on fire. All of it led exactly here.

Kyle let out a slow, shaky breath, fogging the glass.

“I’ve got you, buddy," he whispered.



Kyle's plot arc is circling back on itself. We're still racing towards to the finale of Escape from Club Apophis. I have more wonderful chapters coming soon for you, showing awesome creations from the current round of The Engine Room.

Kyle is wearing the Voiddrop Steampunk Hunter outfit. It's a complete look with coat, skirt, pants and boots built in. It comes in Black, Grey, and White for men.   ...From Duplexity is the Astrum Glasses. It's mod so you move, tilt and resize it to best fit your face. It comes with a hud to change the textures on the lens and frame. I tinted the frame to red so the side glow would match Kyle's look.  ...From Auro is the BOM Carapace Chest Armour, and materials applier hud for Legacy bodies to create that shiny look.   .... From Nuuna is OKA text layers. Adding a cool bold deco pattern across the chest, neck and arms. The lower layer is tintable, I made it dark red, and the top layer adds a metallic stripe across the arms and down the middle of the chest. very cool. I layered it over the chest plate.

Hwan is wearing Starlit Endeavor's latest well thought out set of clothing and accessories, Kohjan, a traveler ready to walk great distances with map, backpack, compass, canteen, and telescope. He is wearing the Khojan outfit which comes with a texture hud you can mix and match textures, and event tint. I used the Mint and Black and tinted purple the overcoat for a Dokkaebi look. He is holding the Kohjan compass which also has a texture hud, and you can trigger poses, animation, and flip open the compass lid.   ...From Aii are the Dark Fae ears. They fit perfectly on Lelukta mesh heads, just hide your regular ears, and with the shape options, change the size and placement of your new long pointy ears. You can show or hide various parts of it in the texture hud. I hid the more ornate jewelry on the ears for a more masculine look.   ...In the background is the beautiful new statue creation by What's Lost Spirits, part of the Cyber Statue series. It is mod so you can scale it up and down, comes with regular and PBR textures.   ...From TWELVE is the gorgeous Scifi Cinema. It comes in black, white, and tan. it's mod, so you can change light colors, scale or move pieces around if needed. The doors open and close by touch. You can see the dark and light versions of the skybox below.

On Him, Kyle:

Outfit: VOIDRIP - Steampunk Hunter Outfit, Gray [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)

Glasses: Duplexity - Astrium Glasses [mesh](Engine Room)(299L)

Tattoo: Nuuna - OKA, EVOX [BOM](Engine Room)(250L)

Tattoo: AURO - Carapace Chest Armour [BOM, Applier](Engine Room)(450L)

Tattoo: AURO - The Prophet : Neck Fade [BOM, Applier]

Hair: TRASH - Lucifer w/o Horns V1 - Rainbow pack [mesh]

Eyes: Mana - Jelly Eyes, Clear [BOM]

Headphone: !Reliquary - !R! Synth-o Ear Tap [mesh]

Skin: MUDSKIN - Hajimu, C, Brow, WINTER [BOM]

Head: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)

Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On Him, Hwan Dokkaebi form:

Outfit: Starlit Endeavor - Khojan Arm, Legacy M [mesh](Engine Room)(2975L)

Compass: Starlit Endeavor - Khojan Compass and Telescope [mesh](Engine Room)(650L)

Ears: Aii - Dark Fae - Ears, Lelutka Male  [mesh](Engine Room)(800L)

Mask: Axix - Wukong Mask [mesh]

Tattoos: HISS - PATTERNS FACE ROMANCE [BOM](250L)

Hands: {Aii} Demonic Touch - bom/all parts, Legacy M [mesh](800L)

Hair: Truth Rogue colors [mesh](250L)

Horns: Hyperbole - Phosphorus Horn, Vile [mesh]

Head: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)

Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:

Statue: Whats Lost Spirits - WLS, CYBER STATUE, BELIEVE 2.1 [mesh](Engine Room)(500L)

Set: TWELVE - Scifi Cinema - White [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.

Midnight Order: Drowning in Surreal (Escape from Club Apophis, 31)

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STORYLINE:

1-one thousand, 2-one thousand, 3-one thousand...

“Come on,” Plague growled, pressing down on her chest. “Come on, Minjo... Breathe.”

His palms rose and fell in a steady rhythm, centered and controlled, just enough pressure to wake her heart without cracking her ribs.

Minjo’s skin looked alien and translucent in the faint, sickly glow of the sewer tunnel. She looked terrifyingly small beneath him, and strangely… unfinished. Like there was something missing. He pushed that thought away. The only thing that mattered was the silence of her heart.

4-one thousand...

Breathe.

“Come on, Minjo,” he gritted out, his voice cracking with the ache in his own oxygen-starved lungs. “Don’t you dare do this. You’re the smart one. Don’t die in a sewer.”

A faint green glow pulsed in her throat. He tilted her head and swept the sludge out with trembling fingers, rolling her just enough for the filth to drain. His mind raced, cataloging the gunk coating his hands. Not sewage. Runoff from the Forbidden Zone.

If she didn’t die from cardiac arrest, an infection could finish the job.

5-one thousand...

She risked everything. She lit the fire. She can’t go out like this.

Panic, cold and sharp, spiked in his chest. The freezing slime soaked through his jeans. He wasn’t pressing hard enough. Or was he pressing too hard? He was going to break her ribs.

Screw it.

He pinched her nose, tilted her chin, and leaned down to breathe air into her lungs.

SNAP.

Her eyes flew open.

They weren’t hazy. They weren’t confused. They were wide, dark, and filled with a lethal, laser-focused fury.

She stared at his descending face with an expression that clearly screamed: If your mouth touches mine, I will dismantle you at a cellular level.

Plague froze, hovering inches from her face.

Sludge bubbled past her lips.

She convulsed, rolled onto her side, and retched, coughing up black water and bile. The sound was ragged and wet and absolutely grotesque.

Plague sat back on his heels, his hands hovering uselessly in the air. He let out a hysterical, breathless laugh that bounced off the dark stone walls.

“Oh, thank god,” he wheezed, wiping the toxic slime from his own chin. “I really didn’t want to have to explain to your mom why her little robotics patent manufacturer died in a drainage pipe, and especially not because she was chasing a boy.”

Minjo gasped, wiping her mouth with a trembling hand. Water dripped from her choppy bob. She squinted at him through wet lashes, breath hitching between coughs.

“Do not…,” she croaked, “tell my mother about this.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” he scoffed. “She’d probably send a drone strike.”

Minjo made a tiny noise that might have been a cough or the ghost of a laugh.

A strangled gasp tore across the chamber. Echo.

Plague looked around the dark, stone shelf where the current had deposited them. They had washed up in a junction where the sewer widened into an overflow catchment.

A few feet away, Kyle Baek, the man who treated joy like a personal insult, was on his knees. He was soaked, bleeding from a cut on his forehead, and he was holding Echo.

She was hyperventilating, her hands clawing blindly at Kyle, her eyes squeezed shut as she sobbed, a high, thin sound of pure terror. She was shaking so violently her teeth clicked together audibly.

“I can’t… I can’t breathe… it’s still in my lungs…” she choked out, thrashing as if the water were still pulling her down.

“Hey. Hey, look at me,” Kyle rumbled. His voice was unrecognizable, stripped of its usual venom and replaced by a desperate, rough tenderness.

He didn’t scowl. He didn’t tell her to toughen up. He wrapped his large arms completely around her, pulling her shuddering frame against his chest, rocking her back and forth.

“You’re out,” Kyle whispered, pressing his chin to the top of her wet head. “I got you. I’m not letting go. Just breathe. In… out.”

Echo buried her face in his chest, clutching him like a lifeline. Slowly, the panic attack receded, leaving her limp and trembling in his arms.

Kyle looked up, catching Plague’s wide eyes. His expression was fierce, protective, as if to say, Don’t you dare say a word about this.

Plague nodded solemnly, then scanned the black throat of the tunnel they had just exited. The rope that tied them all together trailed into the dark water.

“Where’s Ghost? And Lisa?”

As if summoned, the safety rope jerked taut.

A hand slapped the slimy stone edge. Then another.

Ghost hauled himself up from the rushing water, his movements heavy but precise. He didn’t climb out immediately. He anchored himself, reached back down, and pulled.

Lisa Liemawr emerged like a drowned rat.

The influencer was gone. Her eyeliner ran in streaks down her face like war paint, and she was coughing violently. She collapsed onto the stone, shivering.

Ghost climbed up after her. He didn’t move away. He knelt beside her, unclipped the safety line, and placed a steadying hand between her shoulder blades. Firm, professional, and anchoring her.

Lisa looked up, her usual manic energy replaced by raw exhaustion. She looked at Ghost, then at the others.

“I…” she coughed, spitting out water. “I officially log out… from physical journalism.”

“Good. We’re all here,” Plague breathed, the adrenaline finally crashing. “We actually made it.”

Ghost unpacked their bundles, casting off his wet clothes. Minjo was already moving. She crawled toward the center of the ledge, where the bioluminescent moss gave off just enough light to be insulting.

“Location,” she demanded, voice rough but commanding. “We need to know where the current dumped us.”

Ghost stood, water streaming from his tactical gear, and tapped his wrist-mount. The stolen chip glowed faintly beneath the cracked casing.

He frowned. Tapped again.

Nothing.

“It’s dead,” Echo whispered. “Zone damping field.”

Plague frowned.

Minjo was blinking hard. Her hands were feeling along the ground. Her posture was wrong.

That was when it clicked.

Her face looked bare.

“Minjo,” Plague said quietly.

“Not now.”

“Your glasses.”

Her hands stopped.

The silence stretched, thin and awful. The sound of rushing water filled it greedily.

“They’re gone,” she said.

The words were small. Almost polite.

Plague’s chest tightened.

“My AR Specs,” she continued, more to herself now. “My second brain. Quad-sealed. Four magnetic redundancies. They weren’t supposed to fail.”

She finally looked up at him. No overlays. No scrolling data. Just her eyes, wide and unshielded.

“Chaos is winning,” she whispered.

Cold dampness crept under their skin, like the tunnel was slowly noticing them.

Water dripped in a slow, patient rhythm.

Kyle sniffed the air. “What the hell is that awful stench?”

Ghost struck a match, lighting an analog brass lantern. He waved the sulfur smoke away.

“Not sewer gas,” Minjo murmured, squinting. “More like death. But also gunsmoke… gasoline…”

Ghost lifted the lantern, the light sweeping a slow arc. What it revealed made their stomachs drop.

It was a crash of two realities.

Part Art Deco sewer, part accident scene from another era.

Pavement over limestone. A bent streetlamp bolted into the underworld like it belonged there.

And a 1929 Ford coupe sat crumpled against it, still dusted in smoke, as if the crash had happened seconds ago. The whole moment looked like it had been plucked out of history and slapped into the sewer’s maintenance corridor.

Dollar bills lay scattered across the stone like dead leaves.

A Tommy gun glinted near the curb.

Plague exhaled, disbelieving. “Please tell me we didn’t just walk onto the set of The Untouchables. If a guy in a black tuxedo pulls a baseball bat, I’m out.”

“I know this,” Echo whispered. She reached down and touched a blood-soaked dollar bill like it might bite her. “We’ve seen this before."

"The Chronal Resonance Viewer…” Minjo nodded, her blurry eyes flicked to the coupe. “The day Monstrum was born.”

Lisa stared at them like they’d all lost their minds. “Excuse me… what?”

Urban legends talk about alligators in the sewer, but a wrecked gangster car from 1929? lol The very cool scene is by Dirty Rat. Wrecked car, bent lightpost, steaming engine, busted headlight, flung bag of money on the ground, Tommy gun, and a newspaper. This is just a wonderful scene. A story in itself. ... I used the Dirty Rat Sewer for the scene too, it was perfect with its Art Deco theme that matched perfectly with the backstory.  ...But let's talk about Ghost's awesome outfit by Voiddrip. He is wearing the Fatpack Bonus, with the open shirt and bonus texture. The armor on the legs and arms are separate ontop of the suit. Corporate Knight Core.   ...Adding a bit of mystery is the Oya fade tattoo by Lilithe. It comes with lots of options, plain and decorative, upper and lower themes.   ....The Lantern is part of the Brassman set from Starlit Endeavor. The lantern projects light, has left and right handed versions, hold aniamtion, and the hud has a wealth of PBR textures.   ...Creating the wet look, I used the Shine appliers from Blaxium wet, with Abyssal's Justice Cybertech with BOM cyber lines. The face wet effect is part of the Lelutka hud. And dripping wet hair is Argrace's Natsume. 

On him, Ghost:

Outfit: VOIDRIP - Obsidian Nightwarden, fatpack bonus [mesh](Midnight Order)(1500L)

Lantern: Starlit Endeavor - Brassman Lantern [mesh](Midnight Order)(600L)

Tattoo: Lilithe - Oya Tattoos set, Lower [BOM](Midnight Order)(350L)

Shine: ABYSSAL - Wet Version Justice Cybertech With 3d Shine [applier][BOM](499L)

Shine: BLAXIUM - Sweaty Body Shine [applier](325L)

Hair: ARGRACE - Natsume [mesh](300L)

Head: LeLUTKA - Logan Evolution [mesh](3990L)

Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Pose: Poseidon - Ice 3, gacha

Setting:

Car scene: Dirty Rat - The Botched Job [mesh](Midnight Order)(449L)

Scene: Dirty Rat - Sewer [mesh](549L)

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shots, hi-res, midday sky :

 

Salvage Station: The Pen (Escape from Club Apophis, 28)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Lisa Liemawr held her phone up like a holy relic in a cathedral of rust.

“Welcome back, Dragonlets!” Her voice hit that perfect, chirpy register, the one that usually sold energy drinks and scandal. “It’s your girl Lisa, coming to you with the exclusive from…”

She dropped her voice to a haunted stage-whisper.

“…The Forbidden Zone.”

She fluttered "spooky fingers" at the lens.

The bold and brash Hexa Herald reporter checked her reflection in the black screen before the recording started. It was a disaster. Her bangs clung to her forehead in greasy, tragic ropes. Her eyeliner was a smudge of war paint.

“No glamour filters today. #NoMakeupChallenge: Hellscape Edition,” she said, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. "Today’s vlog is pre-recorded since Wi-Fi here is literally nonexistent, and my battery was raised from the dead via sketchy Monstrum Tech, thanks to our secret mole. #HumanSympathizer. Yay for having enough juice to record my last will and testament! Say hi to the fans, team!”

She whipped the phone around with influencer bravado.

The lens struggled to focus, grainy and grey. It swept across a row of rusted, modular housing units stacked like coffins under a flickering green sign: ATOMIC ESTATES.

Huddled in the long, jagged shadow of the structures were the captured students of Jae Won University. "The Avengers have assembled, folks." But they didn't look like heroes. They looked like refuse.

Ghost wasn’t looking at the camera. He was crouched against a corrugated wall, eyes scanning the laser perimeter like a caged wolf, his fingers tapping a silent, frantic rhythm against his thigh. Calculating.

“Check out the latest in post-apocalyptic streetwear,” Lisa narrated, zooming in on Kyra’s torn pants and the found scrap metal doubling as a prosthetic leg. “Derelicte. So hot right now.”

“Put the phone away, Lisa.”

Kyle Baek surged forward, his hand filling the frame. He didn't look like the sarcastic guard anymore; he looked haunted.

“We are in a concentration camp,” he growled, shoving the camera down. “People here look half-dead. Have some respect.”

Lisa gasped, pulling the phone back and feigning outrage. “It’s called a documentary, Kyle. If we die, I want my autopsy report to pull at least five hundred thousand views.” She turned the camera back on him, zooming in until his furious, dirt-streaked eyebrows filled the frame. “Tell us, Kyle, how does it feel knowing your little dare to Jihoon landed us in Monster Disneyland?”

Kyle flinched as if she’d slapped him. His eyes went wet, then hard. He didn't speak. He just smacked the phone out of her hand.

The camera spun wildly, ...sky, dirt, sky, capturing a blur of dense gray fog and the high-voltage shimmer of the fence. It landed with a thud, face-up.

Auto-focus adjusted. It locked onto what loomed above the camp.

Projected against the dark, smog-choked sky was a massive holographic poster. It showed Jihoon, no, Lathandro, clad in radiant white, luminous and holy, eyes downcast like a golden messiah forgiving their sins.

WELCOME HOME, LATHANDRO.

Lisa knelt to scoop up the phone, her hair brushing the lens. She paused, seeing the image on her screen. The bravado slipped, just for a second.

“That, my followers, is why we are here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Nerdy nobody becomes Prince Charming of Monsters. Crazy, am I right?”

She aggressively wiped the lens on her sleeve. “Anyway, here’s the 411. We’re trapped in a radioactive 1950s sitcom running on sewer fumes and despair.”

She swung the camera toward Minjo. The robotics genius was sitting on a pile of scrap, grimly sharpening a stick against a rock.

“What do you think, Girl Genius? Are we glowing yet?”

Minjo stared at her as though Lisa were a misfiring toaster. “No. The radiation warnings are a deception to hide what's really powering The Zone.”

“Oooooh, conspiracy time. Whisper it to Lisa… and to my future Pulitzer committee.”

Minjo didn’t whisper. She lunged.

Thwack.

Her sharpened stick speared a mutant rat inches from Lisa’s boot. It screeched once, then went still. Minjo lifted the fresh kill by the tail, staring dead-eyed into the lens.

“I’m calling it the Entropy Engine,” Minjo said flatly.

“Right...” Lisa side-stepped her, as if Minjo was the first to go insane. “And speaking of despair...”

POOF.

Strawberry-scented smoke billowed around them, too sweet for the filth it drifted through.

“Whoa! Caught in 4K!” Lisa shouted, jumping back as Ghost instantly leveled his own sharpened stick at the pink haze.

The smoke cleared. Standing there, immaculate in a white suit that defied the grime of the camp, was Romance. He looked like he had just stepped off the stage at Inkigayo, smelling of crushed flowers and ozone.

“That, Dragonlets, is a bona fide Jeoseung Saja,” Lisa narrated, masking her relief. “Blink and you missed his career. Give it up for Saja Boy’s own DJ Romance!” She added fake cheering noises. “Tell us, how does a soul-sucking idol end up guarding Hell’s worst zip code?”

Romance covered the lens with a manicured hand. “Stop recording. You want to get us caught? The Children of Apophis have eyes everywhere.”

“No can do, my Maestro of Pink,” Lisa said, ducking under his arm with the agility of a paparazzo. “Lisa’s gotta scoop just as much as a fish’s gotta swim. If I don’t film, I get anxious. And when I get anxious, I cry. And when I cry, I get blotchy. Nobody wants that.”

He sighed. Then his gaze fell on Kyra.

“Kyra,” he said softly.

Lisa zoomed in tight.

The cheerleader was slumped against a crate. Her skin was a terrifying greyish-blue, and the neon veins in her neck flickered ominously. Her cybernetics whined with the brittle, dying-hard-drive sound of something begging for mercy.

“I’m... fine,” she wheezed. “Just... low power mode.”

“Liar,” Romance murmured.

He checked his surroundings, then reached into his pristine jacket. He pulled out a chip with the Monstrum logo on it. It buzzed with energy and smelled faintly of cotton candy.

He knelt, brushing a strand of dirty hair from her face. With the gentleness of a bomb disposal expert, he slotted the chip into the port behind her ear.

Kyra arched, light washing through her like a pink sunrise. Her optics flared, then stabilized. She gasped, color returning to her cheeks. “Better,” she breathed.

Romance smiled, that practiced, devastating idol smile that had once been plastered on bedroom walls.

Lisa whispered into the microphone. “#ForbiddenLove. One-hit wonder rocks the cradle with a cyborg. Leave your comments below.”

“I heard that,” Romance snapped, standing up. “She’s a college student. Shut your mouth.”

In the background, Ghost watched them, face emotionless. But the camera caught it: the precise moment his hand snaked out. While Romance was distracted defending Kyra’s honor, Ghost pickpocket the Idol and slid the ill-gotten gains into his wrist-mount with a surgeon’s stealth. His Halo-gloves, dead since the boundary, flickered. A tiny, pale blue light pulsed once.

Access.

Ghost hid his hands instantly. But he stiffened.

High above, on a rusting catwalk, a familiar figure stirred, black robes, amber eyes.

Hwan.

Ghost went statue still.

He locked eyes with the Guardian. Hwan had seen the theft. He had seen everything.

Romance was still fussing over Kyra, oblivious. Hwan could have shouted. He could have alerted the Nuns from hell.

Instead, the figure in the tower slowly turned his back.

Permission.

Ghost let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Suddenly, a loudspeaker crackled. A cheerful, tinny jingle played, a distorted, minor-key version of Mr. Sandman played on a broken xylophone.

“Attention, Happy Residents! It is time for the Gratitude Feast! Please proceed to the trough for your daily calorie intake!”

“The trough. Great.” Lisa gagged. “Okay, Pinkie. What’s going on?”

“It’s a mandatory celebration,” Romance said grimly, looking up at the glowing poster of Lathandro. “Master Gin is happy his ‘son’ has returned. So everyone must celebrate too.”

“…Right.” Lisa clicked her tongue, forcing the smile back on. She slapped Plague on the back; he jumped a foot in the air. “Let’s go review the catering, Nerd Snack.”

Lisa followed the shuffling crowd to the center of the plaza. The "Feeder," a man with a scarred face and a butcher’s apron, was happily ladling grey sludge into cupped hands, humming a nursery rhyme.

“Look at them,” Plague whispered, nudging Lisa. “They’re eating it like it’s five-star dining.”

He was right. The residents were shoving the flavorless paste into their mouths with frantic, mindless hunger.

“Okay, Dragonlets. Today on ‘Dystopian Eats,’ we have...” She zoomed in on the grey, bubbling sludge being ladled out of a rusted oil drum. “...Protein paste? Porridge? It smells like wet dog and pennies.”

“Okay," Lisa whispered. "Taste test.”

She took a tiny, tentative sip of the grey soup.

“Oh god.” She coughed, squeezing her eyes shut. “It tastes like sadness. Zero stars. Would not recommend.”

She lowered the cup, wiping her mouth. As she did, the camera panned across the crowd, capturing something off.

She zoomed in on a man’s neck as he swallowed.

“Whoa,” she mumbled.

Glowing softly under the grime of his skin were rune tattoos. They pulsed in time with his heartbeat. *Thump-glow. Thump-glow.*

“Marked,” Plague whispered, shivering. “Like inventory. All of them have it.”

Lisa wandered away from the trough, looking for better content—anything to distract from the glowing necks. She found Echo near the drainage outflow, kneeling in the mud.

“Echo?” Lisa gasped, zooming in. “Doing some spring cleaning?”

The camera panned across a neatly hanging row of used tin cans and rocks arranged in a pleasing geometric shape. A garden of garbage.

But Echo was acting strange. Regressed. She was digging in the mud with frantic, childlike intensity.

“What did you get there? A hidden gem? The key to getting out?”

Echo froze. Slowly, she lifted something from the mud.

A teddy bear. Or, it used to be. It was soiled with clay, missing one eye, its fur matted. Next to it lay a small red ball, deflated with age.

Lisa felt the air leave her lungs. The snark died in her throat.

“Lisa?” Echo asked, holding the bear out gently. Her voice was small. “I think... I think I can fix him. I can replace the missing eye with my shirt button...”

“Stop,” Lisa whispered. Then, louder. “Stop right now.”

She stared at the bear. Then she looked toward the edge of the camp, where the drainage pipe poured dark, oily water into the fog. A river that flowed *out* from the city.

“Echo,” Lisa said, her voice shaking violently. “I need you to do me a favor. Find me a bottle. A plastic bottle. Airtight.”

Echo handed the dirty bear to Lisa and darted off.

Lisa held the bear up to the camera. Her hands were trembling.

She stared at the lens. The mask was gone. The influencer was gone. There was only a terrified girl holding a piece of evidence.

“I had one of these,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Back when I thought monsters weren’t real.”

She zoomed in on the missing eye.

“Okay, folks... Time to get real.”

Tears welled in her eyes, hot and angry. She didn't wipe them away.

“This belongs to a child. A child who probably chased that red ball across the barrier. A kid who never came home.”

“Lisa, please,” Plague appeared at her side, looking terrified. “Keep your voice down. Let’s not draw attention—”

She tore her arm away. “Keep it down? “You think I’m being too loud?” She slammed the ball into his chest. “Tell that to the parents still stapling ‘Missing’ posters to rain-warped bulletin boards. Tell them their babies aren’t lost! They’re here! They’re livestock!”

She wiped her nose with her sleeve—a messy, unglamorous motion

“I will not rest until the world knows about this disgusting place. #ParentsDeserveToKnow.”

She shoved the phone into Plague’s hands.

“Film every face you can find in this cursed place,” she commanded.

Suddenly, a low, heavy thrumming sound echoed from the main gates. The ground vibrated.

The eating stopped. The residents froze, eyes wide with a conditioned terror.

The rusted gates groaned open.

Through the fog rolled a procession of vehicles that belonged in a museum or a nightmare. Vintage Rolls Royces drifted through the fog like funeral carriages.

Figures stepped out — gowns shimmering like spilled oil, jewels blinking like predator eyes.
They crossed the filth with the bored amusement of aristocrats at a petting zoo.

Lisa stared, horrified. “What... what is happening?”

Romance stepped up beside her, his face grim.

“The Gratitude Feast,” he whispered, watching the elites take their seats around the stage. “The humans eat first to look plump for the buyers. And now...”

He gestured to the vampires raising their auction paddles.

“...Now the real feast begins.”

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you all enjoy this ambitious post, (7 characters all in one post. The "7 Dwarfs" together at last). There are lots of sweet post apocalyptic goodies from Salvage Station in this. (And if you look hard, you might even spot Jihoon "Snow White" making a cameo.)  Gobble Gobble

On her, front row left to right, Lisa Liemawr (Happy):

Outfit: FenDuDu - Wasteland Verdict, fatpack [mesh](Salvage Station)(3688L)

Hair: CAMO - Nyx Braids  [mesh](Salvage Station)(699L)

Head, eyes, skin: LOGO - Dawn Desert Nomad [mesh]

Body: Meshbody - Legacy (f) Special Edition (Basic) 1.2 [mesh]

Group Pose: 10sai - Group Pose Stand #WEFIE

On her, Kyra (Sleepy):

Guest Appearance: Aarya Phantomhive, of the Dark Phantom blog.

Pants: AsteroidBox - Deteriorate Pants [mesh](Salvage Station)(289L)
Jacket: CHANDRA - Hyperion Jacket Reborn FATPACK [mesh](Salvage Station)(275L)
Jaw: Evil Baby - Jaws - Accessory [mesh](Salvage Station)(349L)
Makeup: eyecing - Ieku - eyes - liner [mesh](Salvage Station)(30L)
Tattoo: Nefekalum - Salvaged Armor - Polished 02 // Full Tattoo [mesh](Salvage Station)(199L)

Tattoo: SOMEONE - Infected Wounds - Face, Body, Eye [mesh](Salvage Station)(550L)

Tattoo: Fallen Gods - Skychylde, female body +FGInc.+ Canary PG [mesh](Salvage Station)(gift)

Makeup: Stelio - Grungy Eyepaint - Black (EvoX) [mesh](Salvage Station)(gift)

Collar: Cruel - Sulfur Gorget - Legacy F
Hair: A&Y - Medusa Cyber hair 2, multicolor [mesh]

Head, eyes: LeLUTKA - lel EvoX LILLY 3.1 [mesh](3990L)

Body: Maitreya - Mesh Body Lara [mesh](2750L)

On her, Echo (Dopey):

Helmet: Waffle Science & Research - [W] Civil Defender [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)

Outfit: The Muses - Triste Bouffon - Ivory [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)

Hair: Sintiklia - Lillith head 1 Fitted, colors ombres [mesh]

On her, front, Minjo (Doc):

Outfit: BEARCAT.EGG - Mira Top, Skirt, Legacy [mesh](Salvage Station)(500L)

Pet: AxisMundi - Bittersync-(B)ox-Hand L [animesh](Salvage Station)(800L)

Goggles: MILKBATH - Axel Goggles - Unrigged [mesh](Salvage Station)(399L)

Hair: NI.JU Tomtom Hair, naturals [mesh]

On him, back row left to right, Ghost (Bashful):

Scanner: Starlit Endeavor - Nomada Scanner, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(300L)

Cowl: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)

Coat: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)

Mask: Pucca Firecaster Creations - PFC Ninja (Male) [mesh]

Headband: Last Ride - 47 Samurai/Headband back [mesh]

Pants: REBIS - Werk Trousers [mesh](350L)

Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]

Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)

Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, back middle, Plague (Sneezy):

Helmet: Apika - Femm of War - Helmet [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)

Shoes: CULT - Wasteland - Legacy M [mesh](Salvage Station)(369L)

Outfit: toksik - Invasion Top (Legacy M) (Black)

Cape: toksik - Invasion Cape M (Unrigged)

Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]

Scar: Cubic Cherry - Decay [BOM, Materials]

Makeup: maledictus - Lacrimosa, red [BOM]

Hair: Dura U122 -A: Men's [mesh]

Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)

Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, Kyle (Grumpy):

Outfit: ONEDAYs - CLOUD OUTFIT - LEGACY [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)

Tattoo: AURO - The Prophet : White // 25 // EVOX  [mesh](Salvage Station)(450L)

Necklace: HAUNT - Choke Chain [mesh](Salvage Station)(299L)

Sleeves: REBIS - Junkyard Sleeves . LegacyM, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)

Hair: TRASH - Lucifer w/o Horns V1 - Rainbow pack [mesh]

Eyes: Mana - Jelly Eyes, Clear [BOM] (Midnight Order)(399L)

Skin: MUDSKIN Hajimu, C, Brow, WINTER(gacha)(The Arcade)(75L)

Glasses: SOLE SA, Glasses Penta CP, Black [mesh](339L)

Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)

Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:

Neighborhood: LORE Atomic Estates Fatpack [mesh](Salvage Station)(1200L)

Bench: Dirty Rat - Derelict Bench [mesh](Salvage Station)(415L)

Cart: Dirty Rat - Derelict Cart [mesh](Salvage Station)(375L)

Billboard: Dirty Rat - Vintage Billboard w/o probe [mesh]

Bathroom: Eclectica - Wasteland Bathroom Set  [mesh](Salvage Station)(395L)

Picture frames: NI.JU - Broken Frame Set [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)

Picture frames: NI.JU - Old N' Worn Frame Set [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)

Alarm Stystem: Puddles - Tin Can Trap, Soft linked [mesh](Salvage Station)(200L)

Jeweler's work area: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler  [mesh](Salvage Station)(395L)

Desk: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Desks [mesh](Salvage Station)(275L)

Toolboxes: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Toolboxes [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)

Necklace display: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Necklaces [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)

Welders: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Hand Welders [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)

Lamp: Duplexity - Nuk-a-Lamp (Ceiling) [mesh](Salvage Station)(249L)

Dunes: Fundati - Beach Cliffs C1 [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: character shots, inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.  

Engine Room: The Alt Tech Mystery (Escape from Club Apophis, 20)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Minjo’s Workshop, 2055

“This thing is lying to me,” Minjo hissed, her fingers jabbing at keys as the monitor bled error codes in crimson. Lines of text scrolled, stuttered, then reassembled themselves into elegant nonsense. “Every time I think I’ve found a pattern, it shifts. Like the data doesn’t want to be read.”

She spun in her chair and pinned Echo with a sharp look. “You’re the retro-tech historian. Have you ever seen anything like this?”

The air in the workshop smelled of hot oil and static charge, a tang that clung to the back of the throat. Echo clutched her battered field kit and let her eyes wander. This wasn’t the gleaming, glass-paneled lab she had imagined. It was a cathedral of machines that refused to die.

Vacuum tubes pulsed like orange fireflies in glass bell jars. Cables thick as iron vines hung from the rafters. In the corner, a brass automaton stood half-finished, its exposed ribs of gears glinting like the fossil of some mechanical saint.

“I’d almost think you were an Old-Tech fan,” Echo murmured, her voice full of reverent awe. “This place feels… curated. Like a museum where all the exhibits still want to work.”

Minjo gave a short, dry laugh. “Not nostalgia. Discipline. Automata tell you when they break.” She held up Kyra’s smart chip like it was a splinter under her skin. “So. What do you see?”

Echo’s pulse quickened. This was her territory. She slipped on cotton gloves, plucked the chip with tweezers, and slotted it into her portable analyzer—a sleek, Y2K-era contraption bristling with adapters, its glowing cathode display and keys that clacked with tactile defiance.

Her fingers danced. Green phosphor text flickered to life. Her breath hitched. “I’m in.”

The team gathered. Ghost leaned forward, his silence radiating an intense curiosity. Plague hovered, impatience sharp as his grin. “Well?”

“There are two partitions,” Echo said, her voice taut with excitement. “The first is a routing file. It’s… a map.” She zoomed out. A lattice of underworld arteries branched beneath the Forbidden Zone. “Detailed. Marked with hazards, safe zones, and access points. A complete underground network.”

Plague let out a low whistle. “Imagine that. The safest way through the Zone is under it.”

But Echo’s finger lingered on the second file. “This one… it’s labeled as a Sensory Recording.”

Minjo’s head snapped up. “Impossible. We don’t even have tech stable enough for that now.”

“A glitch from another timeline?” Echo teased, but her voice wavered.

Ghost’s hands cut through the air: Why give us a key for a lock that doesn’t exist?

Minjo’s lips curved into something predatory. Her gaze slid to the pedestal where she had placed another technical mystery from the Zone. “Maybe it does.”

The Black Snakeskin Box didn’t gleam. It drank. Its scales were a velvety, matte black that devoured light until the eye recoiled, as if staring into a pit that had no bottom.

“I’ve been studying it,” Minjo confessed. “It’s a delivery system. Quantum entanglement, maybe. But that would demand an impossible power source…” Her brow knit tight. “And yet—the same repeating pattern in Jihoon and the box. So I keep asking myself… what feeds on the absence of light?”

“Anti-light,” Echo blurted. “Like antimatter, but for photons?”

Plague snorted. “That’s not science. That’s pulp.”

Minjo waved him off. “No, no. It’s like it draws energy from what isn’t there.”

Ghost signed one word. Clean. Absolute. “Entropy.”

Minjo froze, wide-eyed, like Ghost had just given her the last number in a holy equation. She scribbled furiously across a pad, calculations blooming in jagged lines.

“Echo, build an adapter between that chip and that box. I’ll construct the viewer. Ghost—hack the box’s signal. Find a way to broadcast it back into the Zone and see if you can get a response from Kyra.”

Before anyone could argue, she whirled on Plague. “And you—I have your assignment. Once we find Jihoon, you’re the one who cures him.” She pulled a vial from a drawer; inside were the iridescent keratin crescents. “Claws. Proof he’s mutating. And here—” she flicked biometric scans onto his tablet—“the night before he caught fire.”

Plague’s eyes lit like a gambler’s. “Beautiful. But I need a control. Something from before mutation.”

Minjo hesitated, then crossed to a battered trunk. She dug out a dog-eared math textbook and, from between its pages, drew a delicate paper crane. When she unfolded it, strands of short black hair glimmered in the low light.

For a moment, no one spoke. The air seemed to still around the fragile keepsake.

Plague raised a brow. “You kept this?”

Her face flushed. “Don’t read into it.”

Echo glanced at her, caught the flicker of emotion Minjo tried to bury, and smiled knowingly.

Plague slid the hair into a sterile tube. “Control acquired.” He rolled up his sleeves. “Let’s see what our little monster is made of.”

Hours bled into a blur of frantic creation. Coffee cups stacked like a miniature skyline. Solder smoke, smelling of pine and hot plastic, veiled the rafters. Sparks flew from grinders, and the air filled with the whine of high-speed drills.

By dawn, something immense loomed in the half-light: a freestanding ring of brass coiled with copper, gauges trembling on its frame. Clockwork gears stood poised to turn like the teeth of a steel giant.

Plague lifted his head from a microscope, blinking at the thing. “What the hell is that?”

“A lens,” Minjo said simply.

Echo’s throat went dry. “We built a Hephaestus Gate.”

Minjo scoffed. “More like a chronal resonance viewer.” She gripped a heavy lever. “Ready?”

The workshop lights dimmed, then the ring flared with a low, resonant hum. Gravity seemed to fail, as if a poltergeist had seized the room—levitating pens, papers, and tools in silent revolt. Gears clanked, relays snapped, and the air thickened, tasting sharply of ozone. The inner circle shimmered, not as a hologram, but like a mirror remembering.

Luminous Roman numerals wheeled into a spiraling vortex, casting an eerie phosphorescence across the room as tools, notes, and loose strands of hair lifted, weightless, into the air.

And then— A faint brass horn. A snatch of jazz, warped by static. The shuffle of footsteps on cobblestone. A man’s laugh, cut short by a stutter of distant gunfire.

The sounds bled into Minjo’s lab like ghosts that had been waiting a hundred twenty-six years to speak. On the monitor, green text scrolled once, then froze:

ARCHIVAL RECORDING — CHICAGO, FEBRUARY 14, 1929

The Engine Room is back! Lots of wonderfully inventive and finely crafted items in this round, it's always such an elegant and imaginative treat.  .... After much thought and intense writing, the Apoohis story continues, shedding its cyberpunk and stepping into the Steampunk world.   ...For this first post, the gang unlocks a secret thanks to the RS Store Syn Time Twist. It's a clever illusion using projectors, it really does look like a time swirling down the drain. It's mod so you can tint and resize it. It also comes with a hud to tint its hologram colors.   ....From Starlit Endeavor is wonderful new outfit, Nomanda overalls, with a crazy number of mesh bodies supported, even canidae legs (LaraX, LaraX Flat, Legacy M, Legacy F, Legacy F Flat, Aesthetic, Jake, Anatomy, Ebody, Ebody flat, Ebody Waifu). For Minjo, I used LaraX Flat, and used the pant length option for taller boots. The textures are PRB and with a hud you can customize or tint.    ....Matching is the Nomada Journal. It can trigger animations and poses, raise or lower the journal, plus many texture options, and ability to customize the notepad.    ....From Apricot Paws are the Faux Fingers with fits for Lara X, Reborn, or Legacy F. They come with a texture hud to change out the look. Textures are PBR. Faux Fingers    ....Ni.Ju brings the new Tomtom Hair with style options, mullet with bangs, no bangs, rigged and unrigged, for men and women. The hair is PBR only and comes with many texture options.    ....Below you see another view of the Widow's Workshop by Candle and Cauldron. It's beautifully crafted and detailed. A trap door, sliding doors for a backroom, stairwell, fireplace stones, large windows and scenic landscape of Victorian buildings. It comes with a hud to switch turn off the landscape, or switch between PBR textures of tile floor or wood, wood walls or aged wallpaper.    ....Standing in for Black Snakeskin Box, is the Wormhole Suitcase by Linkrave. It's a wearable transporter you can program for up to 5 locations. Pretty fun!

On her, Minjo, Robotics prodigy:

Headset: Waffle Science Lab [W] Operator Headset [mesh](Engine Room)(250L)

Journal: Starlit Endeavor Nomada Journal and Pen [mesh](Engine Room)(600L)

Outfit: Starlit Endeavor Nomada Overalls Set (LaraX Flat Human) [mesh](Engine Room)(1900L)

Arms: Apricot Paws: Faux Fingers [mesh](Engine Room)(527L)

Hair: NI.JU Tomtom Hair, naturals [mesh](Engine Room)(300L)

Boots: CULT Ashton - MaitreyaX [mesh]

Glasses: GRAAL STORE Elion Glasses [mesh](249L)

Bodysuit: Sn@tch Full Knit Bodysuit, Black [BOM]

Head: LeLUTKA CAMILA [mesh](3990L)

Body: Maitreya Mesh Body LaraX [mesh](2750L)
Body mod: Maitreya Mesh Body - LaraX FlatChest Add-on [mesh](499L)

Setting:

Portal: RSStore RS-Syn-Time Twist [mesh](Engine Room)(525L)

Skybox: Candle And Cauldron C&C - The Widow's Workshop [mesh](Engine Room)(399L)

Suitcase: LINKRAVE Wormhole Suitcase - Aged Brown [mesh] (685L)

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.