Today was Allen's last day as head of the zone.
At that moment, the last of the equipment from the surface mining sites in Zone 18 was being dismantled.
Workshop servants, like diligent worker ants, dismantled the refining equipment, conveyor belts, and sorting devices one by one, packing them into standardized transport containers.
Each container was a five-meter cube, its surface painted with a serial number and weight. They were stacked neatly in an open space, awaiting transport.
The entrance to Cybertron's storage and logistics sector was wide open.
A spatial interface, temporarily opened to the material plane, looked like a rectangular rift torn out of thin air, a faint, deep blue light glowing from within.
The servants lifted the transport containers, feeding them into the rift one by one until they vanished.
The process had been ongoing for seventy-two hours. Packing up everything Allen had built over the past twenty years was no small undertaking.
