The Hunter | Overwatch

The Belly of the Beast

The echoes of the battlefield fade into nothingness as the massive steel door slams shut behind them, leaving only the hiss of pressurized locks sealing them inside. Shaun's comms erupt in static before cutting out entirely, leaving him momentarily disoriented. He pulls off his earpiece with a grimace, noting the others doing the same. For the first time since their mission began, silence swallows them whole.

The light from outside had been blinding, but now darkness clings to every surface. It takes a moment for his vision to adjust, and even when it does, the dim glow of the facility feels oppressive. He reaches for his visor's lamp and clicks it on, a pale beam slicing through the gloom. The light reveals walls of polished metal, unnervingly sterile, curving upward into vaulted arches like some unholy hybrid of a cathedral and a slaughterhouse.

"Why's it so quiet?" Shaun whispers, his voice feeling out of place in the void. Even the faint hum of machinery seems muted, swallowed by the enormity of the space.

"They don't need sound," Liao replies, her voice sharp but low, as if the walls themselves might be listening. "Or light. The omnics don't build for us."

As his eyes adjust further, Shaun takes in the enormity of their surroundings. Above and around them stretches a labyrinth of interlocking platforms and mezzanines. Machines dominate the space: massive arms pivoting with fluid precision, conveyor belts suspended midair on invisible currents, and automated forges that spit out streams of molten metal. High above, robotic sleds glide along unseen rails, ferrying components that vanish into the factory's endless depths. It's a level of efficiency so perfect it feels wrong, like witnessing something beyond human comprehension.

"This place is..." Shaun hesitates, searching for the right word. Terrifying? Monstrous? Both feel inadequate. "Unreal."

Jack lets out a slow exhale beside him. "Bigger than I imagined," he mutters, scanning the towering columns and sleek, carbon-fiber support beams. The sheer scale of it makes their task seem impossibly small-four humans against a machine empire.

Shaun steps closer to the edge of the platform, peering down at the endless tiers below. The floor stretches far beyond what he can see, consumed by shadows and the faint glimmers of automated lights. It's impossible to tell where one process ends and another begins. Materials are broken down, reshaped, and assembled with horrifying speed.

"Raw material comes in," Liao says softly, gesturing to one of the sleds zipping past. "Everything is automated. Maglev tech-less energy use, higher efficiency. It's how they've been outproducing us since day one."

Shaun watches as a piece of raw steel is deposited into a whirring assembly line. Within seconds, it's transformed into a sleek chassis, slid onto another conveyor, and sent to an assembly pod. There, dozens of robotic arms descend like vultures, completing the warbot's construction in moments. It feels almost sentient in its speed and precision, as if the factory itself is alive, breathing out death.

"This isn't just a factory," Shaun murmurs, his fists clenching at his sides. "It's an assembly line for war. No wonder they've been winning."

Jack steps forward, snapping him from his thoughts. "Then we make sure it stops."

---

Hundreds of meters below, Titans take shape, their skeletal frames moving on conveyor belts like grim marionettes. Robotic arms the size of vehicles affix armor plates and weapons with cold precision. Completed units stand silently at the end of the line, their dim optics casting ghostly halos in the shadows.

Shaun steps closer to the edge of the platform, his fists tightening. "Quiet giants," he mutters, watching the Titans loom in the distance. "They're waiting for us. I can feel it."