The group discussed the abilities they chose as they resumed their journey to the navigation marker for the rat’s nest, which was only a few corridors away. Buzz furthered his Synthesis specialization, seemingly ready to follow the same role in the game as in his life. The ability he chose increased the effects of his Synthesized medicines by 50% when applied directly to the wound or point of infection or exposure. Chunk chose one that made her shield effectively impenetrable for a short period of time but could only be activated once an hour. FarShot’s new ability was a threat identification add-on to the IFF in her rifle scope that would attempt to color code targeted foes in order of probable threat. ShadowRunner seemed quite excited about his, which allowed him to interface with any electrical device he physically came into contact with and attempt to overwrite its instructions. Bob didn’t really understand that one yet, but it sounded vaguely promising.

Their chatter died down as they approached the nest, their ebullient mood effectively killed by the fetid scent of rot and waste that pervaded the enormous chamber the corridor opened into. The walls here were covered in the same bluish green material they’d encountered yesterday. However, this time there was far more of it. The floor was covered with a terraced mound of the stuff, each tier containing dozens of pools filled with murky, foul liquid and a grotesquely distorted mutant rat.

The mutant rats in the pools had a weak and frail looking front half of their body hanging from their enormously distended green abdomens, swollen to many times a ‘normal’ mutant rat’s size. Their two hindmost limbs hung limply in midair, atrophied and useless.

The group stared in abject horror at the sight, their reason and faculties fled at the horror of the sight that lay in front of them. Aside from Bob, that is. He noted the steady plop sound emanating every ten to twenty seconds, and the much smaller than typical mutant rats that scurried to and from the pools on only their four rear legs, using their foremost limbs to carry globs of unidentifiable goop to the pools and tiny wriggling green forms away from where they were being born.

“Huh, they’re acting kind of like ants,” said Bob, breaking the spell of morbid fascination that had come over the others.

Chunk and Shadow shuddered, and FarShot’s face was starting to approximate the same hue as the mutant rats’ pallid flesh. Buzz seemed mildly intrigued now that his initial revulsion had worn off.

FarShot turned to her brother and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Burn it. Burn it all. Burn it all with fire. Give me the damn thing if you won’t.” Her voice gradually rose until it was just a hint below a hysterical shriek, and she began to shake him by the shoulders.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, sis. I got it. Just give me a moment to reclaim my wits, you know?”

ShadowRunner withdrew two of the cylindrical grenades he’d used the day before and handed one off to Bob. Together, they pulled the pins and threw the thermite grenades to opposite ends of the room. The group made a hasty retreat to get away from the rapidly growing inferno filled with squeals and squeaks.

Nearly half a mile of hurried walking later, at a pace set by Chunk and the siblings, they finally came to a halt.

After a vigorous agreement among Chunk, ShadowRunner and FarShot to never speak of what they had just seen and the mildly disinterested acceptance of the trio’s mandate to not do so around the others by Bob and Buzz, they moved on to their next request: taking out a ‘Drone Lair.’ While Bob and Buzz remained enthusiastic about the request, the others were dragging their feet and hoping not to witness anything like the rat nest, even knowing that the drones were merely complex mechanisms and not actual living beings.

They’d walked quite a distance in relative silence and could still hear the distant roar of the nest burning. Whatever that material was, Bob was glad that it was so flammable. It really made the job much easier.

An interminable length of awkward silence later, ShadowRunner held out his hand. “I hear drones.”

They waited quietly for a minute before the Cyber Rogue ushered them forward. Buzz’s shotgun cut the unsuspecting drones down, and the group distributed the loot.

As they drew closer to the Nav marker for the Drone Lair, they encountered incrementally larger groups of drones with increasing frequency, almost as if patrols were being rerouted to target them.

Ammo supplies were getting low, but so far, they hadn’t encountered anything anywhere near the magnitude of the waves of rats they had slaughtered.

Full of over-confidence, the team brazenly stepped into the chamber in which the Drone Lair was situated.

Bob reeled as he stumbled toward the other members of his group, his head feeling a little hazy and mildly painful. “Okay, we’re going to need to plan that out a little better. Let’s make use of the time until this debuff wears off to restock, turn in the requests we have completed, and maybe get some new things for dealing with those emplacements. Shadow, FarShot, how many did you spot?”

“Abyss, I only saw two. The one that tagged me and the one that popped Chunk in the gut and got your head in the bargain. Gods, it took me right in the chest and I didn’t feel a thing before I got the death message.”

“Yea, that was kinda grotesque. She kind of looked like she imploded, and your head was just gone, Bob. I spotted a third one which popped Buzz at the same time. Literally popped him. Like a big balloon filled with chunky red water. Abyss, I think I’m going to be sick.” ShadowRunner took several minutes to compose himself. “I’m pretty sure it was just those three. I got hit by a bunch of medium sized drone guns after you lot went down. My armor barely lasted two seconds.”

Chunk was sitting dazedly on the floor, looking at her shield. It hadn’t even been deployed when she got hit, but that should have theoretically made it tougher to punch through, being three layers thick. A neat hole punctured all three panels, corresponding to a hole on the front of her armor, and a larger hole on her back.

Looking at the others, he saw that their equipment was similarly damaged. He mentally added a visit to the PC building to the to do list.

Then he remembered when he’d met FarShot and ShadowRunner. They’d claimed to have died, but their equipment was pristine.

“You guys didn’t mention equipment damage when you first told me about in-game death. In fact, your armor, as I recall, looked quite new.”

The siblings averted their eyes from Bob’s inquisitive stare. ShadowRunner rubbed the back of his neck and looked particularly sheepish. He hesitated and stuttered a few false starts before seeming to come to some internal decision and speaking with clarity. “We couldn’t afford new armor and didn’t know how to get it repaired. I paid one of our messenger boys to fetch another Virmo crystal, create an account and buy new armor for us with his starting funds. We let him keep the new device on the condition he not tell anyone.”

Chunk chuckled, and Bob just shrugged before he started issuing directives. “Well, I guess we need to do some repairs as well. Transfer your damaged gear to me, I’ll handle the repairs. Buzz, you get on the synthesis stuff you were talking about earlier. FarShot and Shadow, do some research on things we can buy that’ll help us. If we need to blow a bunch of credits, that’s fine, we can always make more. Chunk… just be Chunk.”

Restocked, rearmed, and with equipment repaired, the intrepid quintet set forth once more to conquer the Drone Lair.

The whole group had reached level 9 with the requests they’d turned in, with Bob the closest to hitting level 10 — needing just under a third of the total required experience.

ShadowRunner was talking about his newly upgraded Intruder Link. “… and it’s going to upgrade my IFF jamming a bunch. They won’t even notice me until I start shooting at them! This is going to be awesome! Especially with the special surprise we picked up. We’re going to make those things pay! They’re going to regret the day they shot me to death!”

“You know they’re just automatons, right? Like a basic golem, but all mechanical parts,” Buzz said, deflating Shadow’s enthusiasm.

“Er, well, yeah. I know. But still. We’re going to kick their... mechanical parts… Ah, abyss, you just had to kill my fun, didn’t you? You know, I’m just going to call you Buzz-kill from now on.”

FarShot laughed as her brother floundered.

As before, they encountered a steady escalation in patrolling drone swarms until they reached the chamber in which the Drone Lair resided.

ShadowRunner, who had not engaged in any firefights the entire time, carefully snuck his way into the Drone Lair. Bob did not hear any gunfire, so he assumed the Cyber Rogue’s mission was proceeding as planned. FarShot waited nervously, a small device held in her hands, ready to flip a switch at the first signs of trouble.

A few minutes of tense silence later, and Shadow returned. He gave a thumbs up, and grinned. “See? Easy as can be. Now, dear sister, if you’d allow me to do the honors?”

FarShot flipped a cover over the switch she’d been anxiously guarding. “All yours, brother.”

“Alright Chunk, use your shield thing when I say two. Shadow, on the count of three. Buzz and FarShot, you’re with me on four.”

Chunk deployed her tower shield, and Bob set out two portable shields to either side of her, angling back and away.

“One.”

“Two.” Chunk’s shield began to glow. The group huddled low behind her.

“Three.” ShadowRunner flipped the switch, and a mighty roar issued from the chamber, and a blast wave washed over the group, breaking over Chunk’s glowing shield and continuing past them.

“Four!” Bob shouted. He, Buzz and FarShot each threw a fragmentation grenade into the chamber as far as they could. Moments later, an ominous buzzing whine of converging drones came from the room. Five seconds later and a series of much quieter explosions rang out from the chamber. Another three seconds passed, and Chunk’s shield stopped glowing.

Another wave of drones closed in, and the group spread out a bit, taking cover behind the portable shields to start demolishing the inbound waves. Bob set both turrets to guard their rear and joined in the firefight.

Less than a minute later, the corridors were quiet once more, and the air smelled of gun smoke, ozone, and burning plastic.