The walk from Gwen's hidden slum bunker to the central headquarters of the Iron Wraiths was a miserable journey.
Outpost Rust was a localized nightmare that never slept.
Sebastian limped slightly as his heavy black boots splashed through puddles of unknown glowing fluids. His Void Toxicity was rapidly ticking up and gnawing at the base files of his digital existence.
Every third step, his left knee joint would violently un-render. It turned into a block of raw buzzing green static before snapping painfully back into flesh and bone.
"You look like a walking bad connection," Gwen muttered. Her kinetic pistols rested casually in her hands as she kept pace beside him. Her eyes darted toward the dark alleyways to scan for scavengers.
"If you fall apart before we get to the vault, I'm leaving you in the mud. I'm not dragging a glitched corpse through Syndicate territory."
