Misery In the Lanes
Eta SMASHES the head of the corpse trying to bite her on the chest. The chainmail stops the rotten teeth before the corpse's unnatural strength manages to injure her. Kei finishes off the undead, spreading the brain matter of the undead on the ground with her teleforce cane. The associates entering the only entrance in the lanes finishes the enemy off. Pressing my boot on the ground until I hear a crunch. I tore a cloth from an undead and wiped the flat of the blade. Elvira, who is participating with this greets us with the same gusto; leaving Eta annoyed as she shoulders her blade.
“Guessing a hound like you will obviously be here.”
“Eta, and Assistant! Oh my, I didn’t think you’d be combat ready again!”
She eyes Eta’s arms. Elvira’s previous arm has been clearly replaced with something more robust and powerful.
“And Assistant, how are things? Sick of these girls yet? Want to become my Assistant?”
Eta snorts and looks away. Kei gave Elvira a half-closed glare before opening her transmitter to contact the 7S.
Smiling while holding her humming blade. She closes her eyepatch and adjusts the lens. The prosthetic eye of her has this unnatural gleam to it.
“Been a while, Miss.”
“Assistant, you speak like you haven’t seen me for years, then again this profession does not allow such associates to live long.”
She leans her prosthetic arm on my shoulder. I wore a trench coat to this place. Most of us did it for extra protection while the others are using cheap raincoats to cover themselves from the blood and viscera. Even Elvira has the presence of the mind to understand how bad rotten skin and blood is on the living. Creatures of the dead not only are full of diseases. Their very existence is an omen. Breathing in the bad air could spread diseases like the rotten plague. We make efforts to avoid inhaling miasma and areas by purifying the air through various means, such as burning herbs or using scented substances, but in our case by breathing filtered air.
“New arm seems deadly.”
“Liked it?”
She transforms her arm into a bulkier form. Long talons with lines on her prosthetic where she can fire mini-missiles and rounds on a target.
“I thought you’d regenerate it. I think you did?”
“After that demon, I had decided on a prosthetic instead.”
“How many parts of you are prosthetic?”
“A lot! It’s an age where you can become metal. Not like you would need one, it seems.”
Her arm returns to normal. Underneath her jacket I can see the augment lines on her body and around her nape.
“Oh my, if you stare at me too much, I might blush.”
“Must cost a lot.”
“Well, I can’t help it. The life of a fighter is not a kind one dear Assistant. Sometimes you have to go through augmenting procedures to survive even for a second. Not it will matter if Death comes for you with flowers and chocolates.”
She shrugs her shoulders. For a moment I hear gentleness in her tone. And the usual subtle fear of the unknown every hard ass Agent of the state has.
The lanes are 40 square kilometers. You have to understand Changye is a large place. The lanes themselves are made for the purpose of herding those who are unable to roam the districts and it didn’t take for the lanes to become big and in the next few years they estimate the lanes will extend to twenty more square kilometers. The districts are not so big compared to the lanes and is the reason we take service trains everywhere. Changye is simply too large and the road traffic alone is a headache.
The walking dozers are plowing the corpse into a pile. Flamethrowers are being used to burn the body. Each hill of corpses is accompanied by a priest praying for the dead to pass; this is to make sure the miasma is purified.
As the fire rises everywhere. We hear and feel the ground shaking as rotten giants of flesh, undoubtedly crafted by the Scourge rushes from the dilapidated tenements. The associates are currently holding open ground and because we have little cover in the CENTER. All we could do is fight. Wave after wave of the undead are rushing in the the gathering point. Mortar rang out. Heavy gunners tore through the undead, releasing thousands of rounds a minute. The strugglers are free for slaughter and before we know it. We are surrounded by the undead cut down by gunfire or blades. I primed the flamethrower connected to a drone carrying the fuel. My job is to burn what they carved and sometimes I have to pummel the dead to make sure their brains are destroyed. The heat on my masked face, the sweat running down my neck and armpits make me uncomfortable.
After passing the entry lane. The associates were welcomed to the defensive line where most of the survivors have rallied to keep the undead at bay. The place is full of civilians and many of them are surrounding priests who are constantly preaching the words of their gods to keep them from panicking. The defenders are in the inner walls, gathered into this warehouse where everyone is getting their news through a small range broadcast by transmitters. The situation is dire and the ones we met are simply the fourth wave out of the 500k possibly turned undead. The rest have become servants of the Scourge. The one coordinating the defense here in the lane also gave us the appropriate data based on the info they got from previous encounters. The footage is disturbing. Pawns of rotten-flesh golems are being made and the problem with these golems is the concrete armor they are wearing reinforced with the bones of the dead. The sight of the army of the dead wearing concrete armor and weapons made it clear this isn’t just a simple incursion.
The worst part of the problem they are showing us is the misery lane's most valuable resources; the flesh pits have been turned into an undead factory.
***
Footage shows the flesh pits of Zone 13 and 17 have been transformed into undead factories. The dead are transported by the undead and are enhanced into the flesh golems you usually would find in untamed flesh pits; but are rotten and decayed. Some of the flesh-pit mines have been turned into the food source for the undead and because of the fast-evolving mutations of the flesh pit. The undead has started to mutate to abominable creatures. The flesh golems who are deemed to be part of the army are being outfitted by the concrete man with concrete armor and weapons.
The weak and fragile are discarded into the flesh pit, the rest are being transformed into pawns by the Scourge. The sight has a priest chant a litany of fury and the rest are groaning at the prospect of fighting enemies who are enchanted by undead magic and anomalous powers. The only ones who are somewhat happy by all of this are the OB-licensed necromancers and contractors who are eager to learn the secrets of the Scourge or control it. The price is clear to them. The Scourge and the Concrete Man Anomaly who is now a puppet of the Scourge.
The CENTER where we have gathered is full of refugees. Because we have no time and resources to do scans. We let the Priests and Inquisitors who are accompanying the Priest to judge them. They are forced to unrobed and checked for any bite marks or signs of turning. One hour elapses and forty-seven have been executed among the first 500 civics selected. The rest were thrown into a crowded warehouse where one of the clergy accompanied them, preaching the word of God as they waited for salvation in the form of transport. The job at the moment is to secure a supply line from the barricade wall to the CENTER where the refugees and defenders of the lanes are holding up. Dump trucks enter the lanes at 12 PM where nutri-pastes are supplied to the refugees. It is around 1 PM when the undead appear on the scene and we are forced to defend the CENTER. Guns, blade, and flame ravaged the wave of undead. Ruling out the possibility of transporting the refugees after the waves. The trucks finished dumping the supplies while the Bureau’s Containment Unit started setting up the defenses to turn the CENTER into a defense line.
The lanes are full of tenement blocks stacked up together. If you look up you can see the tenements. A vertical labyrinth of interconnected buildings, most of which were several stories tall, seemingly stacked on top of each other with little regard for structural order or design. With each building constructed so closely to each other that they share walls and are only separated by narrow alleyways and walkways. Creating this claustrophobic feeling, as if sunlight is struggling to penetrate the narrow gaps between the structures. Not to mention most of the buildings are constructed using a mix of materials, including concrete, wood, metal, and makeshift materials. Resulting into a patchwork of different textures and colors. The distinct lack of open spaces made courtyards rare, and any available space is often filled with hanging laundry, improvised utility installations, and various forms of clutter. The lack of proper maintenance, combined with the crowded living conditions, gave the tenements you'll see a rundown and weathered appearance. Buildings are covered in layers of grime and dirt, and the lack of proper infrastructure led to visible signs of wear and tear. We are in a rather wide area, but beyond this area is a maze-like layout resulting in narrow and winding passageways that meander through the buildings. These pathways often had uneven surfaces and were dimly lit, creating an eerie and labyrinthine atmosphere.
The close proximity of the buildings made natural light struggle to reach many areas of the tenements. Not to mention the signs, banners, and advertisements from various parts of the buildings, added to the chaotic visual look of the lanes. They say at least 50k people are living in one block and the interconnected structures of the city makes it easy for the undead to close in. The passageways, alleyways, and the dingy corridors are hell to traverse even without the miasma hindering our visions. The first team to enter the interconnected tenements carried a horde of undead with them and barely made it out.
To combat this we made four kill zones where fast runners would lure the undead to enter the kill zones. It is a gruesome task and the smell of burning and rotting corpses made it hard to breathe without a respiratory mask on. I was starting to hate it and I can speak for everyone that we just want to get out of this killing pit.
Elvira’s prosthetic bisected a large undead into two. She crushes the head and wipes the sweat on her brows. Covered in spots of blood, viscera, and bile. I click the safety off the flamethrower and burn the undead.
“Easy job you got there. With all the swords dangling on your waist. They don’t get much use.”
One of the undead she didn’t finish off tried gnawing on my boot. I lift my right leg up and smash the boot’s heel on the temple.
“They are tiring us out.”
I check the tenement floors again. Even I can tell the undead are standing still, as if waiting for us to throw ourselves.
“See this, A? This is why you won’t be finding me in shitholes like this. I’d rather risk my life and kill and kill before I let myself be stuck in a shithole like this.”
“Yeah. I’d rather live in capsule and coffin homes in the districts rather than suffer through the lanes.”
Everyone shares the sentiment. I’d rather put myself into debt-slavery in the districts rather than suffer here. I bet most of us come from these lanes and all we feel about this place is loathing and disgust. I don’t want to spend more time here than necessary. But seeing the amount we are slaughtering. It's going to take a while.
Misery In the Lanes
Eta SMASHES the head of the corpse trying to bite her on the chest. The chainmail stops the rotten teeth before the corpse's unnatural strength manages to injure her. Kei finishes off the undead, spreading the brain matter of the undead on the ground with her teleforce cane. The associates entering the only entrance in the lanes finishes the enemy off. Pressing my boot on the ground until I hear a crunch. I tore a cloth from an undead and wiped the flat of the blade. Elvira, who is participating with this greets us with the same gusto; leaving Eta annoyed as she shoulders her blade.
“Guessing a hound like you will obviously be here.”
“Eta, and Assistant! Oh my, I didn’t think you’d be combat ready again!”
She eyes Eta’s arms. Elvira’s previous arm has been clearly replaced with something more robust and powerful.
“And Assistant, how are things? Sick of these girls yet? Want to become my Assistant?”
Eta snorts and looks away. Kei gave Elvira a half-closed glare before opening her transmitter to contact the 7S.
Smiling while holding her humming blade. She closes her eyepatch and adjusts the lens. The prosthetic eye of her has this unnatural gleam to it.
“Been a while, Miss.”
“Assistant, you speak like you haven’t seen me for years, then again this profession does not allow such associates to live long.”
She leans her prosthetic arm on my shoulder. I wore a trench coat to this place. Most of us did it for extra protection while the others are using cheap raincoats to cover themselves from the blood and viscera. Even Elvira has the presence of the mind to understand how bad rotten skin and blood is on the living. Creatures of the dead not only are full of diseases. Their very existence is an omen. Breathing in the bad air could spread diseases like the rotten plague. We make efforts to avoid inhaling miasma and areas by purifying the air through various means, such as burning herbs or using scented substances, but in our case by breathing filtered air.
“New arm seems deadly.”
“Liked it?”
She transforms her arm into a bulkier form. Long talons with lines on her prosthetic where she can fire mini-missiles and rounds on a target.
“I thought you’d regenerate it. I think you did?”
“After that demon, I had decided on a prosthetic instead.”
“How many parts of you are prosthetic?”
“A lot! It’s an age where you can become metal. Not like you would need one, it seems.”
Her arm returns to normal. Underneath her jacket I can see the augment lines on her body and around her nape.
“Oh my, if you stare at me too much, I might blush.”
“Must cost a lot.”
“Well, I can’t help it. The life of a fighter is not a kind one dear Assistant. Sometimes you have to go through augmenting procedures to survive even for a second. Not it will matter if Death comes for you with flowers and chocolates.”
She shrugs her shoulders. For a moment I hear gentleness in her tone. And the usual subtle fear of the unknown every hard ass Agent of the state has.
The lanes are 40 square kilometers. You have to understand Changye is a large place. The lanes themselves are made for the purpose of herding those who are unable to roam the districts and it didn’t take for the lanes to become big and in the next few years they estimate the lanes will extend to twenty more square kilometers. The districts are not so big compared to the lanes and is the reason we take service trains everywhere. Changye is simply too large and the road traffic alone is a headache.
The walking dozers are plowing the corpse into a pile. Flamethrowers are being used to burn the body. Each hill of corpses is accompanied by a priest praying for the dead to pass; this is to make sure the miasma is purified.
As the fire rises everywhere. We hear and feel the ground shaking as rotten giants of flesh, undoubtedly crafted by the Scourge rushes from the dilapidated tenements. The associates are currently holding open ground and because we have little cover in the CENTER. All we could do is fight. Wave after wave of the undead are rushing in the the gathering point. Mortar rang out. Heavy gunners tore through the undead, releasing thousands of rounds a minute. The strugglers are free for slaughter and before we know it. We are surrounded by the undead cut down by gunfire or blades. I primed the flamethrower connected to a drone carrying the fuel. My job is to burn what they carved and sometimes I have to pummel the dead to make sure their brains are destroyed. The heat on my masked face, the sweat running down my neck and armpits make me uncomfortable.
After passing the entry lane. The associates were welcomed to the defensive line where most of the survivors have rallied to keep the undead at bay. The place is full of civilians and many of them are surrounding priests who are constantly preaching the words of their gods to keep them from panicking. The defenders are in the inner walls, gathered into this warehouse where everyone is getting their news through a small range broadcast by transmitters. The situation is dire and the ones we met are simply the fourth wave out of the 500k possibly turned undead. The rest have become servants of the Scourge. The one coordinating the defense here in the lane also gave us the appropriate data based on the info they got from previous encounters. The footage is disturbing. Pawns of rotten-flesh golems are being made and the problem with these golems is the concrete armor they are wearing reinforced with the bones of the dead. The sight of the army of the dead wearing concrete armor and weapons made it clear this isn’t just a simple incursion.
The worst part of the problem they are showing us is the misery lane's most valuable resources; the flesh pits have been turned into an undead factory.
***
Footage shows the flesh pits of Zone 13 and 17 have been transformed into undead factories. The dead are transported by the undead and are enhanced into the flesh golems you usually would find in untamed flesh pits; but are rotten and decayed. Some of the flesh-pit mines have been turned into the food source for the undead and because of the fast-evolving mutations of the flesh pit. The undead has started to mutate to abominable creatures. The flesh golems who are deemed to be part of the army are being outfitted by the concrete man with concrete armor and weapons.
The weak and fragile are discarded into the flesh pit, the rest are being transformed into pawns by the Scourge. The sight has a priest chant a litany of fury and the rest are groaning at the prospect of fighting enemies who are enchanted by undead magic and anomalous powers. The only ones who are somewhat happy by all of this are the OB-licensed necromancers and contractors who are eager to learn the secrets of the Scourge or control it. The price is clear to them. The Scourge and the Concrete Man Anomaly who is now a puppet of the Scourge.
The CENTER where we have gathered is full of refugees. Because we have no time and resources to do scans. We let the Priests and Inquisitors who are accompanying the Priest to judge them. They are forced to unrobed and checked for any bite marks or signs of turning. One hour elapses and forty-seven have been executed among the first 500 civics selected. The rest were thrown into a crowded warehouse where one of the clergy accompanied them, preaching the word of God as they waited for salvation in the form of transport. The job at the moment is to secure a supply line from the barricade wall to the CENTER where the refugees and defenders of the lanes are holding up. Dump trucks enter the lanes at 12 PM where nutri-pastes are supplied to the refugees. It is around 1 PM when the undead appear on the scene and we are forced to defend the CENTER. Guns, blade, and flame ravaged the wave of undead. Ruling out the possibility of transporting the refugees after the waves. The trucks finished dumping the supplies while the Bureau’s Containment Unit started setting up the defenses to turn the CENTER into a defense line.
The lanes are full of tenement blocks stacked up together. If you look up you can see the tenements. A vertical labyrinth of interconnected buildings, most of which were several stories tall, seemingly stacked on top of each other with little regard for structural order or design. With each building constructed so closely to each other that they share walls and are only separated by narrow alleyways and walkways. Creating this claustrophobic feeling, as if sunlight is struggling to penetrate the narrow gaps between the structures. Not to mention most of the buildings are constructed using a mix of materials, including concrete, wood, metal, and makeshift materials. Resulting into a patchwork of different textures and colors. The distinct lack of open spaces made courtyards rare, and any available space is often filled with hanging laundry, improvised utility installations, and various forms of clutter. The lack of proper maintenance, combined with the crowded living conditions, gave the tenements you'll see a rundown and weathered appearance. Buildings are covered in layers of grime and dirt, and the lack of proper infrastructure led to visible signs of wear and tear. We are in a rather wide area, but beyond this area is a maze-like layout resulting in narrow and winding passageways that meander through the buildings. These pathways often had uneven surfaces and were dimly lit, creating an eerie and labyrinthine atmosphere.
The close proximity of the buildings made natural light struggle to reach many areas of the tenements. Not to mention the signs, banners, and advertisements from various parts of the buildings, added to the chaotic visual look of the lanes. They say at least 50k people are living in one block and the interconnected structures of the city makes it easy for the undead to close in. The passageways, alleyways, and the dingy corridors are hell to traverse even without the miasma hindering our visions. The first team to enter the interconnected tenements carried a horde of undead with them and barely made it out.
To combat this we made four kill zones where fast runners would lure the undead to enter the kill zones. It is a gruesome task and the smell of burning and rotting corpses made it hard to breathe without a respiratory mask on. I was starting to hate it and I can speak for everyone that we just want to get out of this killing pit.
Elvira’s prosthetic bisected a large undead into two. She crushes the head and wipes the sweat on her brows. Covered in spots of blood, viscera, and bile. I click the safety off the flamethrower and burn the undead.
“Easy job you got there. With all the swords dangling on your waist. They don’t get much use.”
One of the undead she didn’t finish off tried gnawing on my boot. I lift my right leg up and smash the boot’s heel on the temple.
“They are tiring us out.”
I check the tenement floors again. Even I can tell the undead are standing still, as if waiting for us to throw ourselves.
“See this, A? This is why you won’t be finding me in shitholes like this. I’d rather risk my life and kill and kill before I let myself be stuck in a shithole like this.”
“Yeah. I’d rather live in capsule and coffin homes in the districts rather than suffer through the lanes.”
Everyone shares the sentiment. I’d rather put myself into debt-slavery in the districts rather than suffer here. I bet most of us come from these lanes and all we feel about this place is loathing and disgust. I don’t want to spend more time here than necessary. But seeing the amount we are slaughtering. It's going to take a while.
