Both AZTea and Jolly took breaks from working on the guns to go out and explore Bastion, taking one of the guns I'd stolen off a Lion's Mane member as protection, and the rebar club I'd entirely forgotten to sell, though Jolly did wrap some cloth around the rebar before adding duct tape as a makeshift handle. The heavy weapon went into an unused bag that barely fit over his bulk, surprising him as he stated that he hadn't had to deal with such a problem before. In the meantime I went from machine to machine, slowly crafting each part until they were up to my rather high standards.

As time passed, I listened to my own brand of music consisting of instrumentals using string and drum instruments. I was in a good mood as I placed another finished Sten into the locker when I heard a knock on the metal door, freezing me in my tracks. Was it guards? Players? I grabbed my Cobra and walked up to the door, the revolver at my side.

I lifted the door a little, only to see several hands grab at the edge, pulling harder than I could possibly hope to push it back down. Instead of trying to keep them out, I leapt back toward the boring machine, Cobra pointing at the door as my back hit the concrete floor.

The first person I saw was definitely an NPC, dressed in a white t-shirt with tattoos ranging down the right side of his neck, a scar marring the left side of his face. I didn't hesitate to fire the first shot, the blast of the gunshot echoing off the walls and being amplified to near deafening levels.

I suffered a disorienting status effect, though I managed to roll just behind the boring machine as a hail of gunfire struck the area around me, bullets pinging off the metal and into the walls. Normally I'd have heard sirens in the distance almost right away, but as my debuff cleared I heard nothing except more gunfire and the shouts of my assailants. I felt a weight settle in the pit of my stomach as I realized help wasn't coming this time.

Just like every time.

I fired off another shot as the sounds of reloading reached my ears, earning another debuff as I saw a second NPC get hit in the shoulder before ducking back down.

------------------

You are now enemies with the Whitman Arms Dealers

-----------------

"No shit!" I blindly fired off another shot. The debuff was extended, all sound muffled to my ears. I opened up my messages as a bullet passed inches away from my face, responding with another poorly aimed shot.

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Recipient: AZTea

Message: Under attack, need backup!

-----------------

I sent the message just as I saw one of them slid by, a pistol aiming right at me. The gun fired, the bullet grazing the left side of my head as I shot my last two bullets into his chest. The debuff extended to a whole twenty seconds now, and a bleeding effect was added, my health starting to tick downwards from ninety percent.

Before they could get the drop on me again, I used my speed loader, the bullets clacking into the firing cylinder as I pulled the hammer back, shoving the cylinder back into place and firing off another blind shot, this time diagonally so that anyone starting to enter the interior would have to either take cover or risk a bullet hitting them.

My heart pounded, memories flashing again and again as the gun bucked in my hand with every shot. I knew it wasn't real, but as bullets rained down around me and a tingling sensation ran across the side of my head where I'd been grazed, all sound being muffled, I couldn't help but feel as if I was back in the moment where the third psychopath had tried to go after me in my own home. I'd had to hide behind an overturned fridge as he sprayed the damn kitchen with a light machine gun.

I started counting each bullet is they pinged off the boring machine, darting towards the lockers and workbench on the other side of the room when I was at least half-certain that I wasn't going to be torn apart by lead. I ripped open one of the steel doors as a bullet shot through it, pulling free the Recycler Rifle and dropping to the ground, the workbench between me and the NPCs.

There were still three of them outside, two reloading while the third fired off a ricocheting shot that bounced off the ground and into my lower right leg. The sensation was almost ethereal in a way as my health dropped to almost half, the bleed effect still ticking downward.

Not having time to dwell on it, I rolled out into the open, firing three times with my Cobra, two bullets missing, the third catching one of them in the throat and knocking him to the ground. Out of quickly loaded ammunition, I switched to holding the rifle with two hands, dropping the Cobra. I pulled the bolt back even as a bullet impacted the ground a few inches to the left of my face, the bullet sailing back into the wall. I put a glowing energy round right through the chest of an NPC who was reloading, slamming him into the door of another storage shed before he shattered into fragments.

I pulled the back for another shot just in time to feel something hot and sharp impact my right shoulder, dropping me to what was maybe five percent of my remaining health. I racked the bolt forward, not bothering to aim as I pulled the trigger, the recoil of the Recycler Rifle almost minimal. The round that shot out caught the last NPC in the shoulder, tearing his arm off in a shower of light fragments before he too disappeared. With my remaining health I leapt for the door, closing it completely shut before I myself shattered like glass, the Recycler Rifle faintly hitting the concrete floor as it fell from my grasp.

------------------

You have died.

Respawns available: 1

Would you like to respawn?

Yes/No

-------------------

My body was now totally see through, my vision turning grey. Sound was still muffled, though I no longer had any debuffs. Looking at the menu option and seeing the single respawn available to me was surreal, even as my heart still pounded away in my chest, the tension of battle having not left yet.

I hadn't seen any warning notifications, so that was nice at least. I took a deep, shuddering breath before looking around the room. The boring machine had so many bullet holes in the frame that I wasn't entirely sure if it still worked or not. The locker I'd thrown open also had a few holes in it, the workbench sharing a few scars from the battle, splinters thrown across the room.

I had to take several more deep breaths before I felt okay enough to press the 'yes' button. The scenergy changed slowly, and I found myself floating in a warm gel-like substance with an oxygen mask attached to my face, all of which was inside a large glass tube.

The gel slowly receded into the floor below me, followed by the glass tube and oxygen mask, setting me down gently against the metal floor below. I was wearing a fairly cheap white shirt and equally white pants, though I was completely barefoot.

--------------

Would you like to purchase another Respawn Slot for 300 credits?

Yes/No

--------------

I accepted the offer, watching as three hundred credits were deducted from my account. I saw none of the NPCs I'd killed in the respawn chamber, rows of tubes with bodies all floating within. I guessed they didn't get the same treatment as players. Lights on the floor lit up, guiding me from my respawn point toward what I could only assume was the exit.

The entire room was eerily quiet, kind of like the moment in a horror movie just before the monster would jump out.

I followed the silently blinking lights until I came upon a dull grey door. Going inside, I saw a large cylindrical machine with a terminal connected to it along with a sign that read 'Item Reclaimer.' I felt the keyboard on the terminal, the plastic deceptively cold even as a slight heat radiated from the machine itself.

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This machine can recreate any mundane articles of clothing or gear you had on you when you fell for only a modest fee of twenty five credits. Would you like to reclaim your items?

Yes/No

-------------

I selected yes, seeing another twenty five credits disappear from my account as the hoodie, face mask, hat, bandolier, pants, and boots all reappeared. The door that led back into the respawn area locked with a click, indicating that I could now re-equip my old clothing. I did so rather quickly, hastily throwing the bandolier over my shoulder, the loop of leather settling across my chest now empty, the few bullets I'd put into it having disappeared.

The moment I finished re-equipping my gear, the wall opposite the door slid upward, revealing a utilitarian looking hall, a pipeline running along the upper right side. I began walking, the floor gradually sloping upward until I reached the exit. I was coming out of the central building, the glass doors that led inside just off to my left.

Taking my first steps outside, the door closed behind me just as I received a reply from AZTea.

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Sender: AZTea

Message: We just got back to the storage shed to find what looked like the mother of all shootouts. Guns and loot drops are everywhere and the door's closed. You aren't inside, so what happened? DId you die? Who attacked, and why? Get back here as soon as you can.

--------------

I started jogging back toward the storage area, boots thumping against the ground. I only had a vague guess as to who might've been the one to send those NPCs, and if that were true then I'd be fighting an almost purely defensive battle until someone found him again. I shook off the thoughts that were beginning to whirlwind through my brain.

When I got back to the storage shed, I found AZTea and Jolly waiting outside, any loot that dropped already cleaned up at this point. Jolly was the first to speak. "What happened? We weren't even out for that long, and we found all this when we got back."

I shook my head while responding. "My best guess is that because we started working in this area, the game sent people to come after us, potentially affiliated with an NPC I've spoken to before. If it's not him, then it's someone else that I'm totally unfamiliar with. For now, let's just get inside before more show up." I opened the door and walked inside, grabbing the rifle that had fallen nearby along with my Cobra. I put the rifle away, and reloaded my Cobra before tucking it back into my waistband. I would have to buy more, most of my ammo having been spent at this point.

"So what's the plan? Are we going to hit back?" Jolly was inspecting the damage to the boring machine and making system-aided repairs, while AZTea checked on the cutting machine.

"We'll hit back if we can figure out who sent them and where they are. The only thing is, we don't have the money or firepower to do any serious damage to them, but we do have the firepower to hurt them a little." I pulled out the Sten from the locker I'd put it in earlier, thankfully finding it undamaged. I placed it on the workbench with a thunk, leaning my back against the damaged wood.

"We'll make more of these, get the ammunition for them, and see if we can find a building that belongs to the Whitman Arms Dealers. After that we can make a plan of attack." I had zero plans at the moment, though the way I spoke I almost convinced myself that we had a feasible idea. Light recon wasn't too difficult to accomplish so long as nobody recognized us.

With the boring machine repaired, Jolly knocked out a barrel to ensure everything worked the way he liked, while the cutting machine had taken almost no damage at all. We worked tirelessly to produce the next two submachine guns, along with a few spare magazines to go with them. The parts we were using weren't well organized so it took a bit of extra time, though we soon had two extra Sten guns resting on the workbench along with the first, fifteen magazines sitting in neat stacks off to the side.

"Now we'll need ammunition for later, or we could go and start looking around, though we don't have any real clues at the moment." I started looking through the forums, trying to find anything to tell us where the hypervigilant NPC had set up shop. I found nothing, though I did find that there was a sort of information broker NPC working out of a mega-building in the southwest section of town. His prices were steep, but his information was fairly good. There were dozens of comments saying that the thread was a total scam, but it was the only lead I could find.

"It's looking like we have a lead but if we're going to follow it, money is going to be crucial. Let's make what we can first and foremost while watching our backs. If anyone knocks on the door, we prepare to take 'em out right then and there." We went back to making more of the new weapons as I made a mental list of everything we'd need for a guerilla warfare style operation. One of those things was a car, or in this case, a truck. That would allow us to steal anything we could while also getting out of there quickly. Along with that, we'd need armor that could protect against regular weapons, extra ammunition, and either suppressors or a large bribe so that the guards didn't hunt us down for tearing through a whole warehouse. The costs kept adding up, even as more and more weapons were finished throughout the day.

AZTea seemed excited at the prospect of being able to shoot up a warehouse while Jolly seemed more cautious, working with a laser focus on each part he made. Fortunately the radio hadn't been hit, so we still had music to listen to throughout the tedious work of preparing our retaliation.