The yellowish-brown sandstorm wall rising on the horizon resembled a moving mountain range, carrying rubble and metal fragments as it steadily advanced toward Ronker Town.
Wind speed readings continued to climb, and the air was filled with heavy dust and static interference.
Osiris timed it perfectly. Just as the sandstorm's leading edge was about to reach the outer perimeter of Ronker Town, he adjusted the power system's output to simulate a state of low energy and unstable operation.
With slightly heavy and unsteady steps, he emerged from the swirling sand and dust and walked towards the tightly closed gate made of heavy alloy.
The multiple surveillance cameras installed above the gate immediately turned and locked onto him.
A question, crackling with static and muffled by the howling sandstorm, came from the loudspeaker: "Halt! State your identity! State your purpose!"
Osiris stopped a safe distance from the gate, raised an arm to shield himself from the sandstorm, and also indicated that he was not carrying any obvious weapons.
His voice came through the built-in speaker, adjusted to sound hoarse and weary from a long journey: "A traveler seeking refuge... The sandstorm is too strong... My transport is damaged..."
A small observation window on the side of the door slid open, and a pair of wary eyes scanned him, their gaze lingering for a moment on his slightly damaged but still structurally complex mechanical body.
"A traveler? In a place like this? You don't look like an ordinary wanderer." The guard's voice was tinged with suspicion.
"I used to be a technician… later I worked in archaeological excavation," Osiris replied, his tone remaining calm. "My team and I were searching for relics in the 'Rusty Canyon' in the northwest… when we encountered a landslide and… a raider attack. I was the only one who escaped, and we lost most of our equipment."
He turned slightly to the side, showing the unfinished joints and slight wear marks on his back from removing heavy equipment, consistent with his account of the ordeal.
"Archaeology?" The guard's tone remained distrustful. "What could possibly be worth digging up in this godforsaken place besides garbage and radiation?"
"That's not the case." Osiris took out an object wrapped in shockproof material from his well-worn-looking tool bag.
He carefully opened it, and inside was a metal component about the size of a palm, with an intricate structure and ancient patterns on its surface. Although it was covered in dust, its extraordinary craftsmanship was still evident.
He raised it slightly so that the guard behind the observation window could see it clearly.
"We discovered…some ancient artifacts. Unfortunately, most of them were buried underground in the landslide, and I only managed to salvage this one sample."
The guard's gaze lingered on the "archaeological discovery" for a few seconds.
The device's technological style was completely different from the standard equipment he was familiar with in the Hive City, carrying an ancient and sophisticated aura. This, to some extent, increased the credibility of Osiris' story.
A person with such technical expertise (even if it's just identification and discovery) may indeed be more valuable than an ordinary homeless person.
"Name?" The guard's tone softened slightly, but the procedure remained the same.
"Karl." Osiris provided a pre-prepared, ordinary, and difficult-to-trace alias.
"Wait here. We need to ask for permission." The observation window closed.
Osiris stood quietly in place, enduring the wind and sand, while the power system maintained a low hum, as if it might stall at any moment.
He could sense that hidden sensors were scanning him more closely, analyzing his energy profile and whether he was carrying dangerous items.
A few minutes later, a small side door next to the main gate, only wide enough for one person to pass through, slowly opened with a hydraulic hum.
A guard wearing a protective suit bearing the Van Sauer family crest emerged, carrying a handheld scanner.
He gestured for Osiris to step forward: "Raise your hands."
Osiris complied and did as instructed.
The guards used a scanner to conduct a full-body examination on him, focusing on his mechanical structure and personal belongings.
The scanner issued several alerts, mainly focusing on the energy source and hidden weapon system within Osiris' body.
"The reactor inside your body... its energy readings are quite high. Also, what's that thing in your arm?" the guard asked warily.
"Systems necessary for sustaining life and basic operations," Osiris explained, his voice still steady. "Inside the arm are integrated tools and self-defense weapons. In the wasteland, you always need something to protect yourself."
Their power is very limited, only enough to deal with mutated creatures and... ill-intentioned people.
He deliberately made the energy circuit of the "electric arc disaster" simulate some unstable fluctuations, which looked like signs of damage or aging.
The guard stared at the data on the scanner for a long time, then looked at Osiris' expressionless, mechanical face, and the "archaeological discovery" he had just presented.
Ultimately, he seemed to have made a judgment.
A down-on-his-luck archaeologist with some technical expertise, in poor condition, and whose weapons don't seem to pose much of a threat, requests temporary shelter during a sandstorm. This aligns with Ronker Town's tacit policy of occasionally recruiting external technical talent.
"Go in." The guard stepped aside to make way. "Go directly to the town hall to register. Someone will tell you the rules here. Don't wander around or cause trouble. After the sandstorm ends, they'll decide your fate."
Osiris nodded, said "thank you" in a low voice, and then stepped into Ronker Town.
The small alloy door slammed shut behind him, shutting out the howling sandstorm.
Standing inside Ronker Town, Osiris' first impression was of the difference in the air.
Although it still smells of recirculated gas, it is much cleaner than the outside environment, clearly having undergone effective filtration.
The lighting comes from floodlights installed above the building, which provide the main light source in the dim light caused by the sandstorm.
His sensor system began multi-dimensional scanning the moment he entered, while he maintained the slightly bewildered and cautious observational posture befitting his identity as "Karl".
The town's layout clearly shows a radial pattern centered on the massive, twisted metal structure—the highly recognizable wreckage of the starship's bow.
All major passageways lead to the central area, and the closer to the center, the more robust the building structure and the greater the level of security.
He noticed that there were fixed sentry posts at several entrances leading to the bottom of the bow, and patrol teams in uniform and wearing family crests patrolled back and forth along fixed routes.
The residents were dressed in a fairly uniform manner, mostly in a gray-black, tightly woven one-piece protective suit. The styles were similar, but differences in rank could be seen in the details—some people's protective suits had more interfaces and additional modules, while others were relatively basic.
The vast majority of people wore breathing filters or closed helmets.
However, despite the protection, many people's exposed facial skin, or the complexion visible through their masks, appeared unhealthy, pale or ashen. Some had deep shadows around their eyes, and occasionally, suppressed coughs could be heard from passersby.