Sons of Hatred

CHAPTER III: Inheritance of the Ashes

The complex presents an imposing silhouette under the gray sky, casting long shadows over the arid and silent terrain. Carver advances with caution, crouched among the ruins and rubble. His only weapons are his knife and the elite soldier's armor that has protected him on countless missions. The lack of a heavy rifle is noticeable at every step, but he is accustomed to hand-to-hand combat. He is a warrior who has survived the impossible on numerous occasions.
The silence is conspicuous and almost tangible. Every creak beneath his boots and every whisper of the wind through the empty structures seems amplified by the solitude that surrounds him. The atmosphere is charged with a palpable tension, reminiscent of battlefields after the smoke of war dissipates, when everything is put on hold before the next burst of violence. Despite his continued movement, Carver is afflicted by a persistent thirst. His throat is parched, and his tongue feels heavy and dry. He has been without water for several hours, and every second he goes without a drink increases the risk that his body will fail before he can complete his mission. He advances with caution, remaining in the shadows of the collapsed structures as he approaches the perimeter of the complex. The old roads and destroyed buildings provide partial cover from any prying eyes, while also serving as a reminder of what has been lost in this ongoing conflict between Exonarians and Gén-asaris. After what seems like an extended period of time, Carver identifies a water tank among the ruins. He surveys the area and approaches the tank, which is a worn metal cylinder but still intact. It is a notable find in this desolate place. The surface of the water reflects a clean appearance, a rarity in a world where purity is almost an unattainable luxury.

Carver approaches the site at a slow and deliberate pace, taking care to avoid any sudden movements that might disrupt the stillness of this unusual location. Upon arrival, he inspects the base of the tank for any indications of traps or signs of sabotage. Everything appears normal, although that term may not have the same meaning in this context. He then proceeds to drink from the tank, noting that the water is cold and refreshing, providing a momentary relief to his exhausted body. However, even as he drinks, he senses that he is being watched. The brief, silent respite is felt throughout the complex, as if the entire structure is holding its breath, awaiting further developments. Carver wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and slowly stands up, scanning the horizon for any sign of movement. However, there is nothing. Just the wind and the eerie calm of a place that seems to have been abandoned for an extended period.
He continues his advance towards a side entrance to the complex. Upon reaching the door, he notices the control panel that protects it. It is hermetically sealed with a Gen-asaris security system that he cannot bypass. He experiences a momentary sense of frustration. One of his former teammates was responsible for hacking these systems before the team was disbanded. However, Carver is now the sole remaining member, and his skill set does not include manipulating the advanced technology of the Gen-asaris.The constant buzzing of the metal walls serves as a reminder that time is of the essence. It is imperative to identify an alternative means of ingress. His eyes scan the area for a potential solution and finally identify a ventilation duct running along the top of the structure. It is narrow, but sufficiently narrow for him to crawl through.

Carver ascends, leveraging the strength of his armor and his own strength to force the grate of the duct. He gains entry, finding himself in the gloom of a claustrophobic tunnel. The echo of his breath bounces off the metal walls as he slowly crawls through the duct. The place smells of rust and decay, and every movement makes the metal creak eerily. The sensation of being observed intensifies within the duct. Carver is aware that Gen-asaris complexes are primarily managed by humans, with the assistance of subordinate intelligences. These systems are sophisticated, yet not autonomous. However, in this location, everything seems different, as if something is beyond human control. There is no indication of the life that should inhabit this place, and the technology appears to operate independently, causing him a sense of impatience. He continues to crawl through the narrow tunnel, the space around him increasingly suffocating. The silence of the place is so thick that it seems to absorb all sounds. There are no distant echoes of human activity or the usual murmurs of automated systems. Only your own heavy, controlled breathing is heard.

At last, the duct widens sufficiently to allow him to move more freely. Carver pauses for a moment, adjusts his position, and continues. The metal is cold to the touch beneath his hands, but more unsettling is the sense of lack that extends beyond the walls. It is not the kind of emptiness that arises from a lack of activity; it is as if the place has been stripped of everything that once inhabited it. Upon exiting the duct, Carver finds himself in a large, cold room illuminated by a dim light that intermittently flickers. The walls are covered with metal panels and wires, an industrial design that seems to have been both functional and intimidating. The air is thick and heavy with the smell of old metal and stale dampness, a stark contrast to the unbreathable atmosphere of the complex.

The space is expansive, and Carver realizes he is situated at the center of the complex. The design is intended to safeguard confidential information and deter external threats. However, the atmosphere is akin to a mausoleum. There is no indication of human activity or the presence of the bio-engineered creatures typically employed by the Gen-asaris. The complex appears to have been meticulously abandoned or stripped of any discernible presence. Carver advances with caution, each step echoing in the void. He senses that the complex itself is watching him, waiting for the optimal moment to act. The advanced technology surrounding him seems to operate with an autonomy it shouldn't have, and the sense that something else is controlling the place is a cause for concern. As he proceeds with his investigation, Carver discovers a control console. It is equipped with a series of panels and flashing lights, but the controls are inaccessible to him without the assistance of the hacker who previously served on his team. He pauses in front of it, the hum of the systems echoing in his ears, and an unsettling thought crosses his mind: "Are they controlling this place in a way that goes beyond what I expected?"

The atmosphere becomes increasingly oppressive, and Carver realizes that the complex is designed to be a maze full of traps and surprises. As he moves forward, his mind is focused on the mission: to find what Viktor had sent for, without yet knowing what awaits him. The feeling of being watched intensifies, and every shadow on the walls seems to move with a life of its own. At last, Carver reaches a junction in the corridor and senses that he is about to confront more than just security systems. The mounting pressure and constant vacuum in the atmosphere indicate that the real confrontation is about to begin. He prepares himself for whatever he may encounter, aware that every step in this labyrinth may be crucial to his survival and the success of his mission.