Chapter V: The Mission

Seventeen of us made our way deep into the sewers of the hive city of Vandalor. We descended down metal ladders slick with mould, lit only by the dim glow of Level 5 and the heat radiating from the manufactorum.

To my surprise, what I glimpsed in the shadows were not the sewers one would expect, but rather a vast network of large circular pipes, sprawling across what was commonly referred to as Vandalor's sewers.

Despite having gone tens of thousands of years without proper maintenance, these pipes remained functional, I briefly forgot that most hive cities throughout the Imperium were built long before the Emperor of Mankind's rise, in an age of unparalleled technological advancement.

The extensive underground recycling system connecting each level of the hive city was meticulously planned, so much so that it still stood today, even with its faults and weaknesses in certain areas.

"Activate your night vision and follow me. Ignore any voices or calls. You won't want to know who is calling you," Bea's voice cut through the silence, drawing my attention to the young woman as she put on a pair of darkened goggles.

The other fifteen quickly complied, some donning similar goggles, while others seemed not to need them, thanks to the bionic implants in their eyes.

'Damn it, I'm the only one who can't see in the dark,' I cursed inwardly, deciding to cautiously stick close to those nearest to me. Fortunately, we weren't running this time, moving at a steady pace instead, with Bea leading at the front. I was relieved to find that the system's map still functioned and was mapping these sewers.

'If I can learn what each section and part of the hive city entails, I could make good use of this map,' I noted to myself briefly, considering the benefits offered by [The Forge System].

The sound of our footsteps and gear was all that echoed through the vast underground network, apart from the pressure in the pipes and my near-constant sneezing every minute or two.

Even though I couldn't see if anyone was glaring at me, I could feel the piercing stares of the fifteen others as we moved forward, the minutes passing, bringing us closer to the mission's designated point.

After ten minutes of walking, we arrived at what seemed to be the meeting point. Deep within the heart of the hive city, on Level 5 in a place marked on the map as <Waltdorf's Pride> we stopped before a large double metal door that appeared firmly sealed.

As they lowered their packs, I finally saw what the fifteen individuals had been carrying: weapons and cylindrical metal objects that, judging by their appearance, seemed to be explosives. My eyes quickly darted to Bea, who, in the darkness of the sewers, I could just make out—a calm expression on her face as her stare fixed on me with a certain degree of interest.

"Tell me, do you not wear a mask by choice, or do you not have one?" Bea's sudden question caught me off guard, and I responded instinctively, "Eh?" trying to make out her expression in the dim light.

Pointing to the mask she herself wore, Bea continued, "These masks—why aren't you wearing one?"

Without much thought, I replied immediately, "Because no one gave me one? But what are they for, besides covering your face?" I asked with genuine curiosity.

"What the hell?! What circus did you come from? What a terrible accent." To no one's surprise, Bea first reacted to my accent rather than my question, letting out a loud laugh that drew frowns from several around us as they finished their preparations.

Walking over to me, I had to lower my head considerably to maintain eye contact as she asked, "Where are you from? It's the first time I've heard anyone speak like you do, HAHA!" Despite the mocking tone, I sensed a genuine curiosity in her voice, and she seemed to study me with even more scrutiny than before.

Clearing my throat and scrambling for an excuse, the first thing I blurted out was, "Uhh, I'm from a planet called… Ar... Argent… Argento. Yes, Argento! You've heard of it?" I was internally crafting an entire planet and a culture mirroring my own country in the Warhammer 40,000 universe.

'I guess I'll have to stick to this excuse from now on. I just hope I don't run into some obsessive autist who knows every single bloody planet in the Imperium,' I sighed inwardly while watching out of the corner of my eye as the fifteen individuals began to pry open the door with some sort of tool that emitted a turquoise glow.

Bea laughed even harder as she quickly replied, "Your accent is so funny, haha, you sound like a drunk... and nope, never heard of that planet, though that shouldn't surprise you, you know? I've lived here in Vandalor all my life, and I'll probably stay here for the rest of it." The tone of her last words carried a certain sadness, almost as if she wished they weren't true.

"You don't have to resign yourself, you know? Maybe someday in the future, you'll travel and see many planets." I don't know why I felt the need to ease the negativity in her words, but I did.

Bea just looked at me and murmured, "Maybe," before sighing and continuing, "Look, the masks are to stop you from getting sick from breathing at these levels, you know? Only in the uppermost parts of Vandalor or the Underhive do they not have this problem with the air." The more I listened to her explanation, the greater my expression of deep concern grew.

"It's not like we enjoy wearing these masks, but if we don't want to sell a leg or an arm to pay for treatment, they're the only thing keeping us from being poisoned by the air." Bea's tone grew fainter as she noticed the horror on my face; she stopped speaking altogether as my hand clutched my forehead.

'Now I understand why my nose is burning and bleeding… damn it!' Internally, I cursed and raged at whatever force had brought me to this world, while outwardly, I could only show my resignation and weariness.

'How stupid and naive I was to think it was just an allergy to pollution; I'm literally breathing poison. God, I need to get off this godforsaken planet before breathing alone kills me.' Making a mental note to get a health check-up in the near future, I looked up and asked Bea, "Where can I get one of those masks, and how much do they cost?" My tone betrayed my exhaustion, resignation, and frustration. Bea replied simply.

"Any junk shop will make one for fifty or sixty credits, but they tend to break down and stop working pretty quickly."

Letting out a long, deep sigh as I closed my eyes, I resigned myself to spending half my pay on one of these things. I then asked Bea again, "Is there anything else I need to avoid dying while working in this hellhole?"

With a loud chuckle, Bea sat on the ground and turned her gaze to the fifteen individuals, who were just about to create a gap wide enough between the doors for us to pass through.

"Ideally, you'd want some eye protection, but most people don't bother since they save up for bionic implants, you know? They're much more useful than our natural eyes." The casual, almost careless way she spoke about something so profound and taboo took me by surprise. She talked about transhumanism with an almost insulting flippancy that left me momentarily speechless.

"Move! Move! Move!" I heard one of the fifteen shout, weapons and explosives in hand, as they slipped through the gap in the doors and disappeared into the darkness of <Waltdorf's Pride>.

When I tried to follow them, Bea extended her hand and grabbed the fold of my overalls, stopping me. "I wouldn't recommend going in there, especially if you haven't been assigned a mission with the corresponding pay for combat," she said.

Her words shed light on the nature of the mission, making me wonder for the first time why we had guided them here. These past days, I had been so preoccupied with thinking and imagining things that the Guild's rule of not asking or talking about jobs had become second nature to me.

I sat down across from Bea, and she seemed to understand my sudden realisation. "It happens, don't worry. Though, to be honest, this usually happens to the kids who start working with us, not to adults like you."

Looking at her with some confusion, I asked, "Kids do this kind of work?" She gave me a heavier look before letting out a laugh and shaking her head.

"You really have no idea or common sense, do you? What kind of life did you have before coming here?" Understanding that my question had been a foolish one, I sighed and replied, "A pretty quiet and different life from the one everyone seems to have here. I only had to worry about studying to have a good life afterward. Nothing like what I'm living through now."

Bea nodded at my words, as if she understood something she already knew, then asked pointedly, "Were you brought here against your will?" Her eyes moved over my neck and the parts of my body not covered by the overalls, searching for something.

'Well, waking up on another planet in a fictional universe after dying… that would certainly count, wouldn't it?' I debated internally, and then lied to Bea with surprising ease, letting out a weary, sad sigh.

"Yes, I was. One moment I was on my home planet, fighting off some criminals, and the next, I opened my eyes to find myself staring at the sky of this world, naked. Can you believe it?" I mixed truth with lies as I told her how I ended up in Vandalor. She seemed entertained and full of curiosity, listening intently and asking for more details.

Before we knew it, minutes had slipped by as we chatted about each other's lives and the reasons we both ended up working for the Guild. Our conversation flowed so smoothly and naturally that the range of questions and topics we covered never felt awkward.

We only stopped when we heard a rumble followed by the distant sound of an explosion.

"It seems they've completed the mission," Bea murmured loudly enough for me to hear. We both stood up from the ground, alert to any possible danger.

Swallowing hard, I asked, "Do you know what their mission is?" Bea nodded and explained, "Sometimes I've seen the Guild working for noble houses or powerful merchants, blowing up warehouses, shops, or even assassinating certain people."

Though she didn't elaborate further, I understood enough to know that anything could have happened out there in Waltdorf's Pride, from sabotage to murder.

My heart started to race, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I thought to myself, 'Simple job, my arse, Flokk. I could end up in prison for this, or worse.' Clenching my teeth in fury at what I had become involved in for a measly hundred credits, I cursed the Guild.

Several tense minutes passed until we heard gunfire and other sounds, along with the rapid approach of footsteps.

Then we saw the first figures—now battered and bruised—of those we had guided here, shouting loudly, "MOVE, QUICK, GUIDE US!" Their rifles were trained on the doors.

Without hesitation, Bea turned to me and said, "Time to get back to work," before she began to jog into the darkness.

Casting one last look at the doors that were now spewing out the stragglers, I ran after her, flanked on both sides by six of the original fifteen.

Opening the local map tab, I got a shock that nearly made me stumble and fall.

My chest tightened for a moment as I felt my hands grow clammy and my throat go dry. A brief but almost deafening notification echoed in the depths of my mind.

DING

----------<• >----------

[• A new mission has been generated! <Survive in the sewers of Vandalor> Your actions have caused a stir, and the wheel of fate has begun to turn! Survive to alter destiny and receive the following rewards!]

[<5 Experience Points> <Centinel Platform Blueprint>]

---

Out of nowhere, a mission had been granted by the system, revealing a crucial realisation I hadn't considered until now. It seemed that the jobs I took on with the Guild could generate missions from the system, helping me level up [The Forge System] and earn various rewards.

The possibilities seemed to unfold out of thin air; this changed everything.

Now, I just had to survive to start advancing with the system on my side and change my own destiny.