Adrian walked down the sterile halls, each step a testament to his resilience. The pain in his chest was a constant reminder of the recent struggle, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. Eventually, he exited into a large, open concrete room. The sight before him was both familiar and alien: the Tram Depot, where the trams of Black Mesa were cleaned and repaired.
The room was vast, with several bays connected to rails that held the silver Black Mesa trams. Some were in their bays, others stopped on the tracks, all eerily still. The depot seemed abandoned, a silent monument to the chaos that had overtaken the facility. The tracks all converged onto one main track that led towards a huge tunnel, the entrance of which was sealed with enormous blast doors. The doors appeared to be powered down, blocking any immediate progress.
Adrian moved cautiously, his eyes scanning the depot for any signs of movement. The silence was oppressive, the only sounds being his own footsteps echoing through the vast space. He approached one of the trams, inspecting it for functionality. It seemed intact, but without power, it was useless.
He walked towards the control room, hoping to find a way to power up the blast doors. The control panel was a complex array of buttons and levers, but Adrian's training and experience in dealing with military and scientific equipment gave him a good idea of what to do.
Adrian attempted to power on any systems he could, but not even the control panel would turn on. It seemed like the power had been completely shut down to this depot. Frustration gnawed at him as he rubbed his head, scanning the room for any sign of where the power source might be.
The room was vast and filled with trams in various stages of disrepair, silent and lifeless on their tracks. He needed to find the power source if he wanted to activate the control panel and open the blast doors.
Adrian began searching the depot, moving methodically from one area to the next. He checked the obvious places first—control panels, breaker boxes, and any access points he could find. Nothing seemed to be functioning, reinforcing the notion that the power was indeed completely shut down.
As he moved through the depot, he spotted a door marked "Maintenance Access." It seemed like a likely place to start. He pushed the door open, revealing a narrow hallway leading to what appeared to be a maintenance area. The air was cooler here, and the hum of dormant machinery filled the silence.
He moved down the hallway, his eyes scanning for anything that might indicate a power source. The walls were lined with pipes and wires, some of which had signs of recent tampering. Adrian's instincts told him he was on the right track.
Finally, he reached another door labeled "Power Control Room." Adrian pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was filled with large circuit breakers, transformers, and control panels. This had to be the heart of the depot's power system.
Adrian carefully moved through the power control room, his senses on high alert. The entire room was dead, no lights, no hum of machinery. As he scanned the area for any signs of life, he heard a rustling noise behind him. Instinctively, he prepared himself, stepping out from cover with his wrench raised.
To his surprise, he found three other HECU soldiers, their weapons trained on him. The tension was palpable until they recognized him as a fellow soldier and quickly lowered their weapons.
One of them, a sergeant with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward. "Corporal Shephard, right? I'm Sergeant Baker. This is Private Collins and Private Ramirez."
Adrian nodded, lowering his wrench. "Why aren't you at the Lambda Complex for the evacuation?"
Sergeant Baker sighed, his expression weary. "We didn't make the first evacuation helicopters. We were cut off by these new alien creatures. One of the scientists called them 'Race X' before we had to... take care of her."
