It was a metal pipe that led from amidst the embers of the firepit to what Zelsys recognized as a repurposed Fog Engine, atop which there sat a befuddling tangle of rune-etched flasks and tubes, held together with wire and pieces of scrap metal. There were two fragments clearly taken from the shattered barrier-stone suspended in the tangle, apparently somehow involved in condensing Viriditas, which ran down the stones and into a tube that led into a half-full bottle on the ground. As Zelsys tried to work out why the engine was involved in this setup, she noticed a number of roughly-welded pipes that led from its exhaust ports to just below a flask, serving as burners to heat its contents of vile, rotting meat, black Fog roiling above it.

“Putrid meat?” Zelsys blurted out, furrowing her brow and tilting her head as she tried to grasp what exactly was going on with the alchemic apparatus. It was clearly multi-purpose, as less than a third of it seemed to be in use, though she didn’t quite understand why rotting meat was being used to produce Viriditas.

The Swordsman - who she didn’t notice had disappeared - stepped out of the transport, no longer wearing his chest-plate and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, green Fog rising from his nostrils, intricate tattoos composed of alchemical symbols covering his forearms from the wrists to the elbows. “It was supposed to be an alkahestry setup, at one point,” he said as he walked towards the alchemic abomination with pride evident in his gait. “Figured out the barrier-stones can turn Nigredo into Viriditas even when in pieces, so I’ve been usin’ it to make loads of the stuff since… As long as we’ve been here, really.”

“Black Fog comes from rotting meat and it’s called Nigredo. Got it,” Zelsys thought, making a mental note of this fact.

“Couple’o months. Four, six, eight. Can’t remember...” Wire muttered from behind, still standing behind Zelsys with his gun pointed at her back. His demeanor was still twitchy and cautious, but he spoke with surprising lucidity. His right eye twitched towards the Swordsman, and he let out a wordless grunt.

With a clap of his hands, the Swordsman replied “Right, gotta purge your system,” as he approached his bearded compatriot. Her curiosity drawn to the scene, Zelsys felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Spliteye, subtly nodding towards the transport vehicle. “Let’s see if we can find some spare clothes that fit,” she said, the implication of something else loud and clear in the way she said it. Zelsys gave a smile and a nod, following after the blonde and watching what the Swordsman was doing out of the corner of her eye. Wire’s gun tracked her with unerring accuracy, yet his eyes looked to the Swordsman.

As she passed by the vehicle, Zelsys took note of what its door was really used for - it was covered in dried blood and fragments of bone, a cleaver of prodigious size sat atop it.