Chapter 101: The Rule of the Grid
Far beneath the surface of the capital, the atmosphere was completely devoid of laughter.
"We are officially crossing the threshold," I announced.
My baritone voice echoed off the damp, rusted walls of the Magitech Catacombs.
We had spent ten grueling days surviving the uneasy waves of the Outer Trenches.
We had slaughtered thousands of Blood-Forged Revenants.
We had perfected our Pack Link coordination, and every single member of the squad had officially breached Level 35.
We were finally strong enough to advance.
I pushed open a set of heavy, sliding iron doors. The grinding sound of metal scraping against metal filled my ears.
We stepped out of the trenches and into Part 2 of Strata 3. The Processing Grid.
The environment shifted drastically. The chaotic mud and rock vanished.
We were standing in a massive, brightly lit facility. Blinding white surgical lights cut through the thick, yellowish smog.
