The sheer scale of the Rig was disorienting.
As the brass diving pod drifted closer, the structure filled the entire viewport, blocking out the red void of the ocean. It was a vertical city of dark, corroded metal, covered in barnacles made of hardened magma and sulfur crystals.
"Got a docking port," Lens said, fingers moving fast across the holographic keys.
"Sector 7 looks intact. The magnetic clamps are... ancient, but readable. Code sequence... Delta-Nine-Zero."
"Just park the thing, Lens," Verdict's voice came over the comms. He was still clinging to the outside of the pod, his wind barrier flickering against the intense heat radiating from the Rig.
"I am parking! Do you think this is a carriage? I'm interfacing with a millions year-old operating system that speaks in binary and arrogance!"
The pod shuddered as it aligned with a massive, circular airlock on the side of the Rig. Giant mechanical clamps, rusted but functional, groaned to life. They reached out from the Rig's hull, grabbing the pod with a metallic screech that vibrated through the water.
CLANG-THUD.
The pod was pulled flush against the airlock.
"Sealing," Lens reported. "Drain cycle initiating."
The water outside the viewport began to recede, pumped out by thunderous turbines.
Hisssss
Steam hissed as the superheated water met the cold air of the airlock.
A green light flashed above the hatch.
Verdict opened the external latch and dropped into the airlock chamber, water dripping from his oilskin coat. He shook his rifle dry, looking unimpressed.
Lens popped the pod's hatch and scrambled out, immediately falling to his knees to inspect the floor.
"Look at this alloy!" Lens squeaked, running his flesh hand over the grate.
"Non-corrosive steel! Do you know how much this would cost in Heaven Dou? You could buy a kingdom with this floor!"
"We aren't here for the floor," Verdict said, stepping over him. He walked to the inner door, a massive slab of blast-proof metal etched with angular, geometric glowing lines.
The sniper raised his hand to touch the panel, but Lens scrambled up.
Thwack
"Don't touch!" Lens slapped Verdict's hand away with his robotic arm.
"That's a biometric scanner. You have the soul signature of a brick. You'll trigger the incinerators."
Lens stepped forward. He raised his mechanical arm. From the wrist, a small needle extended, glowing with a soft blue light. He jammed it into a small port beneath the scanner.
"Bypassing... tricking the logic gate... telling it we are maintenance drones..."
The door hissed. The heavy locking mechanisms, gears the size of carriage wheels, began to turn.
CLICK. HISS.
The door slid open.
A wave of stale, hot air rolled over them. It smelled of oil, sulfur, and something electric.
They stepped into a corridor.
It was wide enough for a Titan Giant Ape to walk through. The walls were lined with pipes and conduits, pulsing with a rhythmic, orange glow.
The only light came from these pipes, casting long, eerie shadows.
"The energy density here..." Lens adjusted his goggles, looking around in awe.
"It's off the charts. This entire station is a battery. It's pulling planet's heat energy directly from the mantle, refining it, and... storing it?"
"Or venting it," Verdict pointed out, gesturing to a window on the left.
Through the thick glass, they could see the center of the Rig. It was a hollow shaft, dropping down into the infinite darkness of the planet. In the center of the shaft, a beam of pure, blinding white plasma roared upward, contained by magnetic rings.
"The Boiling Sea," Verdict murmured. "It's the exhaust pipe."
"Efficiency over environment," Lens noted, his tone a mix of disgust and admiration.
"They generated so much power they had to boil an ocean just to cool the system. The arrogance of the Syltharim... it's beautiful."
"It's loud," Verdict complained. The thrum of the plasma beam was a constant, drilling vibration in his teeth.
"Move," Verdict ordered, unlimbering his rifle.
"The Compass says the Artifact is in the Control Core. Lower levels."
They moved deeper into the facility.
The corridors were empty, but not abandoned. Small, scuttling maintenance bots, shaped like metallic crabs, ignored them, focused on welding pipes or scrubbing rust.
"Ignore the cleaners," Lens whispered. "They run on simple loops. Threat level almost zero."
They reached a junction. A map was etched into the wall.
"We need the Heat Regulation Chamber," Lens deciphered the angular script.
"That's where the regulator artifact would be. It keeps the drill from melting."
"Down the elevator?" Verdict pointed to a shaft.
"Elevator's dead. Power rerouted to the core. We have to walk."
They took the stairs. Flight after flight of metal grating, descending into the heat. The temperature rose steadily. 90°. 100°.
Verdict's soul power flared, his wind cloak keeping the heat at bay. Lens activated a cooling rune on his suit, his mechanical arm whirring as its fans spun up.
"Hold on," Verdict said suddenly, stopping on a landing.
He raised a fist.
"What?" Lens whispered, freezing.
"Not a cleaner."
Verdict pointed down the corridor.
Hanging from the ceiling, dormant, were turret-like constructs. They looked like metallic flowers, closed tight.
"Defense grid," Lens hissed. "Sentry Turrets. Soul-seeking."
"Can you hack them?"
"Not from here. I need a terminal. Can you shoot them?"
"If I shoot one, the others will wake up too. It'll trigger a chain reaction."
"Stealth?"
Verdict shook his head. "My Silent Wing hides sound and scent. It doesn't hide heat signature. In this heat, our bodies are cold spots. They'll see us as anomalies."
Lens looked at the turrets, then at his mechanical arm. A manic grin spread across his face.
"I have an idea. It's stupid, but it's logic."
"I hate your logics ideas," Verdict sighed.
"Give me a bullet," Lens demanded. "A railgun slug. The big one."
Verdict hesitated, then reached into his pouch and handed over a heavy, rune-etched slug.
Lens pulled a small tool from his belt. He attached it to the bullet.
"Throw it," Lens said. "Fast. Past them."
"A decoy?"
"A magnet. A very strong one. When it activates, it'll pull their targeting sensors. For exactly two seconds."
Verdict weighed the slug. "Two seconds is tight."
"You're the Soul Douluo. Run fast."
Verdict rolled his eyes. He wound back his arm.
WHOOSH.
He threw the slug. It flew down the corridor like a cannonball.
As it passed the cluster of turrets, Lens hit a button on his wrist.
ZUMMM.
The slug emitted a massive magnetic pulse.
The turrets snapped awake, their barrels swiveling instantly toward the slug, ignoring the two men on the landing.
"GO!" Lens shouted.
Verdict grabbed Lens by the collar and activated "Accelerate."
They became a blur of wind.
Behind them, the corridor exploded in laser fire as the turrets obliterated the slug.
They slid around the corner, safe.
"See?" Lens panted, adjusting his crooked goggles. "Logics"
"You owe me a slug," Verdict grunted.
They stood before a massive blast door labeled 'THERMAL REGULATION'.
"This is it," Lens said. "The Artifact must be behind this door."
He reached for the control panel.
But before he could touch it, the Rig shuddered.
Not a vibration. An impact.
Something massive had just latched onto the outside of the station.
"Sonar contact!" Lens yelled, staring at his wrist.
"Something huge! Outside the hull!"
CRUNCH.
The wall next to them buckled. Metal screamed as it was torn open like wet paper.
Water, pressurized and boiling, sprayed in.
And through the breach, a giant, singular red eye stared at them.
To be continued...